I'm A Slut for FanFic

With turquoise waters softly swishing around it and reaching the horizon. The sand is pure white and shimmers with what might truly be crushed gold. It's warm beneath your feet, but not burning.

There's exotic greenery, feeling more welcoming and soothing than dangerous. Trees provide shade, fruit, beautiful flowers.

Among it stands a palace - all white marble with streaks of gold. It's pleasant inside; not entirely cool, but not too warm. It sprawls in intricate corridors, all filled with sunlight. And there are pools of water all around the place. Smaller ones, just to thread through and cool your feet. Big ones to dip into fully and swim laps.

Ari's amusement flares into something more heated when he makes your clothes disappear. There's no need for those fabrics, he says, with the air here always keeping you just at the right temperature. And where only his eyes can feast on you.

"You tried to capture a god, little hunter," Ari said, "this is your punishment. And my delight."

You scowled at the spoiling you got each day. Food and drink at your whim. Water to bathe in. Shade to relax in. A daring god who boldly touched and roused your body.

"She will smell of wild berries. She will be cloaked in dignity but not at the cost of kindness. Her pride in her people will inspire great loyalty."

"Both descriptive and yet, not helpful," Curtis grumbles under his breath.

"I will know her," the Creature promises.

Curtis nods in acceptance.

The morning of your arrival at the palace you make sure to dress appropriately. It's none of the finery you'll be wearing when you greet the king, but it is suitable to a lady of your status.

Conrad and his men are on higher alert because of this change as well. They're keeping you and your horse in a protective circle with Conrad in the lead.

The courtyard around the palace is bustling with activity with the arrivals of parties from every duchy. What staff there is seem well versed in their work and it makes you wonder if King Everett is actually the merciful sort who doesn't harm servants. At the very least, you hope that is the truth of his nature.

Conrad stays by your side as Tanya, the woman who seems in charge of things, tells your party where the carts for the tithes are going. The horses are left with a one-armed man with bright red hair and a small boy who, given the shared hair color, is likely to be his son. It breaks your heart to see young children having to work, but that seems to be the way of things.

Another little boy cuts through the crowd carrying a bucket of water, quite likely for the horses. He trips and the water sprays out, splashing your skirts, and you let out a yelp in surprise.

Immediately the little boy is crying and apologizing and it breaks your heart.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," you reassure him, taking his hands in yours. "It was an accident and it's just water."

"Dirty water," he sniffles. "The other pretty lady threatened to throw me in the dungeon."

"Well I'm not her, and I promise you that you're going to be okay."

"Timmy?" Tanya's voice calls out as she rushes over. "Timmy, are you okay?"

"Yes, Mama," he answers.

"You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, Mama. I was just scared. But the pretty lady promises I'm not in trouble."

"Well she's right," Tanya smiles. "So long as you go and refill the water bucket. We've got a lot of horses to take care of."

"Yes, Mama!" he beams as he grabs the bucket and runs back.

Turning to you Tanya's smile softens. "Thank you for not being angry with him."

"Accidents happen," you shake your head. "Still, I should get myself and to my quarters so I can let this dry up."

Entering the wing meant for the ladies of the palace, you grimace at a familiar voice chiding her servants. Marianne, daughter of Duke Snyder. As vicious and ruthless as her father. She was a favorite of Queen Yelena and was set to marry the oldest prince.

But with King Everett taking over, slaying the old king and his sons, banning Queen Yelena to a tower in the castle, those plans had to be thrown out. You'd give her the mercy of thinking she's upset at having years of planning go to waste, but given her treatment of you, your late mother, your father, you let yourself think of her as a demon in human form.

Most of the rooms are already taken over by other ladies of the court and their servants but you manage to find a smaller one that's the perfect size for you and a guard or two. You probably could have brought along one of the servants from home, but it was a long, dangerous trip and couldn't ask any of the ladies who worked for you to go with, especially in disguise.

Freshening up and changing into a more appropriate dress, you can hear the quiet sobs of the lady in the room next to you. Part of you wants to go over and comfort her. This is a very dangerous time to be a Lady. The new king is no doubt in search of a bride, but his reputation for bloody warfare, carnage even, against the former royals does not bode well for a good life. To be forced into the bed of that man is a scary thought indeed. And that's if he doesn't decide to outright kill you for being of noble birth.

As you're finishing up, a pronouncement is made in the wing that tomorrow would be dedicated to the giving of tithes and oaths. Until then, food would be provided in the dining room, though the King will remain in his rooms.

You're certain there will be very little sleep, if any, for the ladies tonight.

In the King's Quarters, Curtis is pacing. His inner creature is practically feral because he knows you've arrived today. The creature swears it can smell you, though Curtis has his doubts.

She is here! the creature thinks. Our mate is waiting for us! She needs to be claimed!

"If we go to her like this, if we move too fast, we could hurt her, scare her," Curtis warns. "Our mate is not to be harmed, even by us!"

The creature begrudgingly calms itself in agreement.

When they sleep, I want to find her.

"So long as we don't wake her up. You'll need to be in charge and your visage is meant to inspire fear."

I'll be careful. Won't wake her. Just want a scent.

"With any luck, she's the one Tanya told us about. The one who comforted Timmy instead of scolding him."

The Great Glen would not approve of the angry one.

"Fair. But for now, we need to calm down. It's going to be a long, boring day tomorrow."

After we find her.

"After we find her."

In the dead of night, Curtis and the creature take advantage of the cloudy night and slink through the windows. In his human form, Curtis wouldn't dare try to scale the walls of the castle, but the creature has the strength, the dexterity, the claws to make simple work of climbing towards the wing where the women are staying.

As they get closer, the scent of wild berries becomes stronger and his mouth salivates, hoping you taste as sweet as you smell.

Can't taste yet, Curtis reminds the creature.

The creature grumbles under its breath but agrees.

When they reach the window to your room, they almost whimper from how sweet you smell. Wild berries, honey, hints of creme. They could eat you out all day. He purrs as he looks over your soft, plush form. He takes a deep, slow breath, savoring everything.

The guard by your door stirs and the creature quickly, quietly, carefully goes back out the window. They'd hoped for more time, but it was probably for the best they left when they did given how hard they are.

Back inside his quarters, Curtis takes control again and fists his erection with fervor.

Should save for mate, the creature objects.

"If I don't cum I'm not going to be able to hold back next time I see her. Remember, we can't scare or hurt her."

She'll look even prettier with our cubs in her belly.

The mental image is enough to push Curtis over the edge and he cums all over his stomach with a grunt.

Previous--Next

Waking up between two omegas was nothing short of warm and fuzzy. Waking up hungover between two omegas, however, was gut-wrenchingly horrific.

The moments before you came to your senses, you had felt at peace. At home, even. But guilt find you fast and this time it brings a friend; shame.

Your omegas, seemingly sensing inner turmoil, coil tighter around you but it's no comfort this time. Your chest is tight and you can't breathe. You remember last night. Your thighs clench, tears threaten to spill, your body freezing as it spirals hopelessly into despair. You can't remember who did what, whose hands were where but you know you came, you know that you were held. For a brief moment, you were loved.

You try to move slowly. You try not to wake them. But as your half-way sat up, Colin's eye peeks open.

"I meant it when I said I'd make you cum until you stopped thinking of leaving." Colin mumbles sleepily from your chest. "It was a threat and a promise."

"Go back to sleep." You huff impatiently as Jake snores in your ear. You love him so much but right now you're unsure if you're going to throttle him or puke on him. "And get off me."

Colin chuckles softly but doesn't move. "No."

"No?!" Your eyes almost jump out of their sockets when you glare at the top of his head. The audacity! Last night was a mistake! You're the alpha. He should-

"I'm done letting you walk away when you get annoyed with me." Colin replies, soft but stern. Something in your chest twists as Colin's lips graze your skin, a flutter in your tummy over wave of nausea. "Not after last night, Honey."

Heat rushes to your cheeks and your thighs squeeze together lightly at the memory; strung out between the two of them. Being taken care of in more ways than one… You feel the damp throb in your panties again and you can't bring yourself to hate it. You sigh, relaxing into the mattress, and raise the arm half trapped under Colin to stroke his hair. You were defeated.

He shivers as you touch him - like your fingertips are live wires - before relaxing half of his weight onto you with a deep sigh. It feels good.

No.

It feels great. Especially when Colin's chest rumbles with appreciation. Your body reacts instantly; breath catching, nipples pebbling under the dress you were still wearing. You think you've managed to go undetected until Colin speaks again.

"You know," he begins, stretching his back straight so he can not only be eye level with you but also press his firm cock against your thigh. "I doubt Jake'll wake up."

You side-eye him but don't push him away. "Shut up." You hiss.

"What?" He whispers back with a boyish smirk that you wished you could wipe off of his face. "I didn't say what we'd be doing. Your mind went there."

He nuzzles you jaw, acting coy, peeking up at you with a cheeky glint in his bright blue eyes. Before today, you would have shoved him away and lashed out but now, in this moment, you no longer have the strength or energy to fight your true mate.

"'Mega with your cock pressed against me, what else am I going to think?" You murmur back, meeting his surprised gaze. His cock twitches, smirk widening into a grin as he nuzzles you a little harder.

"Dunno." Colin takes a breath through his nose, near the base of your neck, before kissing down your chest to your tits.

"Colin," you warn in a hushed tone.

"What?" He asks innocently, calloused fingertips massaging the breast closest to him. His eyes flicker to yours and don't look away as he moves the material of your dress away and darts his tongue across your taut nipple.

You suck in a breath, trying not to make much sound as Jake stirs beside you. Clearly, the bond between you is doing something to him too, even whilst he sleeps; Jake's cock is already prodding at your other side. Your eyes flicker over to your other omega, whose still sleeping soundly next to you.

Colin repeats the action to get your attention back to him. This time you jump in surprise with a quiet yelp. Jake murmurs something unintelligible and buries his face in his pillow and before you can chastise Colin, his mouth has latched onto your tit; sucking and licking your nipple while gently rubbing his cock against your thigh.

Your right hand grabs at his left bicep, your left hand in his hair, in an attempt to steady yourself and pace his unfair attack. When you push back onto his forehead after a few more seconds, wanting a much needed breather, he complies - but only by letting your tit go with a wet pop. Your panties are a mess again. And so are you. Especially when Colin, still under your palm, licks his wet lips and looks upon you like he's ready to eat you alive.

Your heart thunders in your chest, stomach swirling with guilt. Surely, you shouldn't want this as much as you do. But on the other hand, Colin was supposed to be your true omega.

"No fair. You guys started without me." Jake whines quietly into the otherside of your neck. A hand rakes down your body, sandwiched between your dress and the covers, finding your twice-soaked panties and slipping under them to circle your clit.

"S-sorry, Jakey," you stammers as your breath grows heavy. "We didn't want to wake you."

"Always wake me." Jake says seriously, and far too quickly, despite his still-sleepy demeanour - making you bite back a smile. Perhaps your guilt was mere anxiety, the waves of nausea a learning curve. You went from no one to two, doting omegas. Maybe you could keep the secret to yourself - and enjoy a small slice of paradise between the sheets with Jake and Colin.

Whilst you're distracted with your thoughts, Colin dips back down to your chest. This time he focuses his mouth on your other breast, while pinching at your sensitive nipple. The moan that rips from your lungs is long and sensual and one that simultaneously wakes Jake up a lot faster and makes Colin bury himself against you as he makes a short sound of his own.

It feels so fucking fantastic. You're spoiled and you know it. Two omegas to-

One. Your brain interrupts. You only have one true omega, don't you?

The wave of nausea hits you again and you sit up bolt upright, almost launching Jake and Colin off of you.

 "Is it too much?" Colin asks, looking over at you worriedly. "I'm sorry I-"

"No, it's-" you bite your lip. You consider blurting out the truth but you realise you can't and bring a hand to your mouth as if to stop the words from flying out.

You want to be selfish. You want to have them both. Keep them both. Jake wouldn't have to know, right? You could take it to your grave. Then you make the mistake of looking up at Jake as he coos soft reassurances and rubs your shoulder. Your gut churns like a whirlpool - so dizzying your eyes flutter and you must visibly pale because Jake leaps out of bed announcing he'll get a bowl.

"It's alright Honey." Colin murmurs softly, kissing your temple. "Hangovers suck. We've all been there."

You wished it really was a hangover and not a moral dilemma hang-up. Your stomach heaves and you cough - prompting Colin to rub your back. Tears spring at your eyes again. You couldn't do it. You just couldn't.

A sob breaks free and you bury your head in your hands as crashes from the kitchen echo down the stairs. Clearly, Jake has forgotten where the bowls are kept.

"Hey! Hey! What's wrong?" Colin exclaims in a panicked tone. You must look insane."It's okay! It's completely normal!"

"It's not that!" You sob, ugly crying into your hands. "I just- I can't-"

More sobs wrack you and you no longer care that you're an active hot mess in front of Colin. The floodgates are open.

"Why are you so upset anyway?" Colin says softly, trying to smile to comfort you. Yet, what he says next brings no comfort."You have two omegas to take care of you."

"But I don't!" You wail into the bedsheets and then again more softly. "I don't."

"What do you mean?" Colin asks gently, dipping his head lower to try and catch your eyes. "You have me and Jake."

"Jake isn't supposed to be my omega." You blubber. "And-and we spoke about being mates before we bonded. And now that I've taken that chance away from him I-"

Your body shudders from another sob and you fold in on yourself, attempting to make yourself as small as physically possible. It was all ruined. Everything was ruined.

"Hey, now, you didn't. You both clearly love one another." Colin assures you, again with a boyish smile. His hand is warm on your back and for a moment it silences your sobs. "There's no way you two aren't meant to be together."

"But what if I've ruined it?" You ask desperately, as if Colin has the answer. "I've taken away his chance at finding his true mate."

"You are his true mate." Colin says, matter-of-factly.

"How do you know?" The question is quiet and you look at him with big watery eyes. He brushes them away with a thumb, and your heart aches, bring on a new wave of guilt.

"I just have this gut feeling." He says with a shrug. "The three of us together works, Honey."

"But I've treated you so poorly!" You wail, throwing up your hands. "I'm such a terrible alpha!"

"That's what this is about?" Colin laughs, making your head shoot over at him with a frown - despite your pathetic sniffling. "You're not a terrible alpha. You're great and smart...but also just so dumb."

You look at him, confused but he only laughs and presses his forehead to yours. "So, so dumb."

"You can't tell him." Your bottom lip quivers. "It'll hurt him so much. I can't hurt him."

"I won't," Colin murmurs. "For now. But you need to, Honey. He deserves to at least know."

You hum, nerves still shot, and Colin covers both of your hands with his. You turn your head towards him and he kisses your cheek ever so sweetly.

"Thank you." You whisper. "For everything. I'm-"

"Don't even think about saying it." Colin interrupts. "My job is to make sure you're happy and healthy. That's all I care about."

A tiny smile appears on your lips. You say nothing, but press a kiss to his lips. Relief sweeps over you - a momentary respite from your despair. Perhaps your were just lucky after all.

"I'm here! I have the-" Jake bursts back into the room, where you and Colin look up from your intertwined space. "Dammit, what did I miss?" He cries dramatically. "I'm gone for two minutes and you two have kissed and made up!"

You giggle and smile at Jake, who's smile turns into a frown when he realises you've been crying. "What happened?"

"Our alpha was being stupid." Colin says and Jake's eyes narrow. "What? She was."

Jake hums, unconvinced.

"Just, come here." You order. "Please."

Jake rushes over, almost tripping over his discarded shoes and comes over to his side of the bed. Your piggy in the middle again - and you wrap an arm around Jake. He cuddles up to you, and so does Colin, until you fall back against the pillows with a squeak.

"You'll never guess what we found out at the barbecue yesterday," Jake says excitedly. "You were too drunk last night so we couldn't tell you."

You flush. "Go on."

"That so-called alpha, Jack?" Colin says and you hum in acknowledgement. "Not an alpha. He used to do hacking jobs for my dad."

Before you can ask what hacker jobs Colin's dad needed done, Jake interjects.

"So we think he falsified his documents." Jake taps his fingers lightly over your stomach. "And we're gonna try to find out the truth."

Your eyebrows raise. "That's admirable. But how would you-"

"Ask Jake." Colin nods at Jake, giving you a look that warns you before Jake speaks.

Jake looks sheepish. "I can maybe, probably, most likely hack into the system and find out."

You stare at Jake. He ducks his head.

"That has to be-"

"Illegal, yeah, but I can do it without getting caught!" Jake argues and then more quietly adds, "I have before."

Your heart leaps to your throat. "You what?"

Jake looks startled and shakes his head vigorously. "Not to change anything, I swear! I just... I wanted to know more about you before meeting you. I didn't want to wait for the folder."

The corners of your mouth twitch. "And you didn't see anything weird?"

"Weird?" Jake frowns. "Uh, no. Just that I was your omega. Colin was a surprise - I think there was a backlog. We're just lucky we were a pack so quickly."

"Yeah." You respond distantly. "I guess we were."

The squeeze of your hand from Colin grounds you - it stops you from crying again. You're too confused by all of this. But if Jake got into the system and saw they'd made a mistake, that they'd called you...

You push the thought away. Not now.

"Anyway, Sunshine, Mace, Colin and I will be looking into it. Buttons deserves to find her true mate."

You nod, and swallow thickly. "Yeah. She does."

Part 4 End

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Being around you in his human form was far stranger than being around you in dog form. Jake had become so used to your affection and attention, that he'd almost forgotten how to act like a normal, functioning human.

He followed you from room to room chatting away, until he'd almost followed you into the bathroom, and he'd sheepishly taken himself back downstairs to wait for you on the sofa. You seemed just as happy as he was to actually be able to finally speak to someone because when you came back down the stairs, you teased him about the same amount of excitable as he was in dog-form.

Although, you didn't seem too put-out by this.

He couldn't believe that he was so lucky, neither could you, really; to have found a friend in such a difficult time was truly, by all means, a stroke of luck. He both loved and hated the fact you were so kind and understanding. Occaisionally, when you'd smile at him, flashes of your beaten face would cross his mind; and he'd have to suppress an audible growl at the thought of you showing that monster who harmed you any kindness at all.

When you'd suggested watching a movie he didn't know what to do. He suddenly felt like a teenager around his crush - albeit that you were a little fuzzy thanks to the lack of glasses. It felt strange not being cuddled close to you while watching the movie; without your hand raking along his head and hitting that sweet spot behind his ears.

But how do you even tell someone that?

About half-way through a very straight-backed watch, you clear your throat. All Jake can see from this distance is a pink smudge but he can sense your nerves from a mile away.

"You okay?"

"Mmhmm." You hum, strained before sighing. "This is going to sound so weird."

"Weirder than me being a shifter?" Jake jokes, hoping it eases your nerves and he's pleased to see that you smile.

"Hmm. Maybe." You say shyly. "Could I... run my fingers through you hair?" You rush out the words, unable to meet his eyes, but when you do, you bluster; and he's completely unaware that his jaw is hanging open. "Forget it!" You squeak and face the TV, wrapping your arms around your knees and angling ever so slightly away from him.

"I- N-no. It's fine! I swear! Um," Jake scratches his cheek. "You want me to shift back or-"

You shake your head. "No. Forget it. That was weird. I'm sorry." You hold your breath for a moment before releasing a quiet sigh. "It's just... before it made me feel calm."

Jake hums and quietly shuffles closer to you. "Try it."

"What?" You look like Bambi stuck in headlights, big round eyes watching him. "No, I-"

"If it helps," Jake says with a reassuring smile. "Then it helps. If it doesn't - we forget it ever happened."

You make an unsure sound in the back of your throat before looking away as you tentatively reach for him. How could anyone hurt you? He can smell how nervous you are to touch him but there's a small scent of something else... He wants to reassure you more, but that scent makes the words catch in his throat. It smells like lightning in an old bottle; begging to be released.

Excitement.

If he wasn't careful his tail may pop out- and that would be embarassing. Your excitement feeds his own and he struggles to keep his breathing steady as your hand glides through his hair. His eyes flutter and he forces a slow breath as your nails gently curl against his scalp. How the hell does this feel so good as a human too?

You repeat the motion; still soft, still caring. Jake leans into your touch subconsciously, relaxing quicker by the second as the scent of your nervousness dissipates to contentment.

"Is this okay?" You murmur. He can feel your eyes watching him for signs of discomfort. He knows you won't find any.

"Feels go-od." Jake affirms, voice cracking ever so slightly.

"You can tell me if it doesn't." Your voice is still quiet but you don't stop.

"I know." Jake reassures you but when you hit a particular spot, near the back of his ears, his shoulders drop and he loses composure. "But it- ooooh-"

He half-falls onto you; following your hand as you continue to scratch that perfect spot. You smell amazing too; fresh but with a hint of delicate spice that amplifies your warmth. You smell safe.

It isn't until you giggle, that Jake realises he's almost completely on top of you.

"Oh my God," Jake flushes, attempting to sit up off of you. "I'm so sorry. I-"

"It's okay." You laugh - soft and sweet. "I don't mind."

Jake tentatively leans back into you, and you gently start raking your fingers through his hair again; making sure to focus on the spot that made him melt.

At some point during the day, one movie became a movie marathon. A collection of feel-good, cartoony classics; ones you and Jake had seen before. Jake hopped up occaisonally, insistent on bringing you every snack and/or drink you idly thought of - your only reprieve of him happening when you had to go pee.

Every time you sat back down, as if it were natural, you'd open your arms to him and he'd happily re-take his place while you played with his hair. You'd grown mostly accustomed to him being around in human form and his dog-like tendencies were more cute than weird.

By nightfall, when you were thoroughly stuffed from a day of snacking, you had realised that - not only had you willingly cuddled a human male all day - but that you had never felt more relaxed.

You twirl a lock of Jake's hair as the next movie begins thoughtfully. Three months ago, on the worst night of your life, you had sworn off men for the foreseeable future. Though, Jake wasn't technically just a man. Or human.

It was strange to say the least. You had always been a firm believer that an animal's eyes never lie - and it seemed Jake was proof of that. You had never felt safer than you did in this moment; not even when you were surrounded by police officers. Perhaps it was fate, or karma, or sheer dumb luck that you found eachother. However, you couldn't help but feel sad knowing that your time together was most likely limited.

What would happen when your case was closed? If you got to court that is. That would be years. Jake had a family. Friends.

Part of the condition of your protection was your family didn't know where you were... and after being isolated for so long, you didn't think you had anyone left to call a friend.

"You okay?"

You look down at Jake, who's big blue eyes look worriedly up at you.

"Fine." You murmur. "Why?"

He smiles sheepishly, and taps his ears. "Shifter hearing, remember? I can hear your heart racing."

"Ah." You smile, knowing you're beat. "That got old quick."

Jake chuckles. "I know. Sorry. If you don't wanna tell me you don't have to. So long as you're good."

"I'm good." You affirm, and then add. "Better than good, actually. I feel... relaxed."

"Good." Jake grins. "I do too. It's nice being able to be, well, me."

"Yeah, that-" you blink at him, half-incredulous you're now realising you feel the same way. "That's how I feel too."

It feels like a physical crackle in the air. A subtle shift in tension as you both look at eachother, admitting easily how you truly feel. You don't know if for Jake it feels the same as it does for you - no weight of secrets, no worry of repurcussion. Just simple, honest truth that, in a way, is almost child-like.

Unfortunately, you shy away from it. Unready for complex feelings. The man was your dog. Literally. And there was no guarantee that he would be staying - so there would be no point in wondering about naieve what ifs. And also he was your dog.

You clear your throat, eager to change subject, well aware your heart was beating faster now. "D'you like having belly rubs?"

Your cheeks burn as you rush the question out, regretting it immediately. Jake's eyes grow wide and he blushes, stammering out an awkward half-curated response.

"I- um- no? I mean, yes but I've never - no one has-"

He swallows - opting to stop talking. Something you wished you had the braincells to do. You nod in faux understanding like he had given you a real answer.

"I just thought I'd ask since, you know-"

"I'm a dog?"

"Is that-" You grimace, hoping you pick the right word. "species-ist?"

A laugh bubbles from Jake and he shifts his long legs, adjusting himself in your lap. "No. I don't think so? I've never been asked before."

"It... may have been on my mind." You admit. Among other things.

"I'll answer as best I can." Jake says, rather energetically. "I don't know much outside my own experience though."

"I just thought since you liked head scratches in the same spot." You shrug, grazing the aforementioned spot again. "You might like other things you liked as a dog too."

Jake hums. Half thoughtful, half content. "If you mean stuff like sniffing butts- no, I do not."

You giggle at that. "I'm glad. But no tummy rubs?"

"No one's ever really given me any as a human." Jake admits cheeks beginning to glow again.

You want to offer them up but a wave of bashfulness and sudden need for propriety, stop you. But you file the information away for a later date. Probably.

"Hm." You say. "I'm surprised."

"Surprised?"

"A guy like you with no girlfriend? Or boyfriend," you add quickly.

"Nah, no girlfriends for me." Jake says. "Not for lack of trying."

"Really?" You can't keep the surprise out of your voice and immediately apologise.

"Really really." Jake says unperturbed, with a big smile. "Never knew who could accept all of this."

He gestures to himself, comically proud of his lean frame. "And the whole shifter thing."

Your knuckles rake against his scalp, and you stare at nothing in particular when you say your sage reply; "It's not the worst thing you could be."

END

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But you stopped short when you got in the door and were met with that sonic wall of screaming. But as you looked around, there were no guests, no one unexpected, no source of the sound. The lower floor was empty aside from Ransom sitting on the couch, Lola held firmly on his lap as he gently petted her.

“What’s going on?” you shouted across the room.

Ransom jumped slightly, not having realized you were home, then scrambled for his phone. Immediately, the noise, blessedly, stopped. “Sorry,” he said, blushing a little, and for the first time you were pretty sure you were seeing Ransom self-conscious. “Lola and I have been working on getting used to the sounds of a baby when you aren’t around. Google says it’s a good way to prepare your dog.”

You didn’t try to stop the warm smile you felt taking over your face. “Oh yeah? How’s she doing?”

He let her off his lap, and she scampered over to you. “She’s doing good. Making a lot of progress. It isn’t so scary anymore, is it?”

Lola looked up at you and wagged her tail. “Good job, baby,” you said to her as you put down your bags and picked her up. “What else does Google say?”

“Uh,” Ransom scratched the back of his neck. He was embarrassed by how much work and thought he’d put into this. It made your heart melt. “We should be getting her used to the new smells too, so letting her sniff anything we buy for the baby. And we should introduce any new routines or patterns right now. Get her used to being taken care of by both of us, not just you.”

“You already do a good job of that,” you said sincerely.

He shrugged. “I’m trying.” He bent down to look through your bags. “Speaking of new smells, what did you get?”

“Oh, I passed by a little baby store on my way home, so I decided to stop in and see what I could find.”

Ransom took out a pretty lilac onesie and a soft sage blanket. He carefully held them up for Lola to smell. “It’s so tiny,” he said softly, reverently smoothing his thumb over the onesie.

“Yeah,” you answered, moving your free hand to your bump, which was big enough now that you felt like you could barely call it that. “I think she’s going to be even teenier than we realize.”

Ransom delicately put the baby’s things back in the bag and moved both of his hands to your stomach. You felt the baby shift in response, the way she did right before she was about to start punching you. Ransom had yet to feel her, and you knew it was bothering him, so you grabbed one of his wrists and moved it a few inches to where she’d started to press against you. “She’s right there,” you whispered.

Ransom pressed his lips together in concentration, and then his brow furrowed in frustration. “I still can’t-“ She moved again, and he froze. “Wait,” he said, so quietly like he didn’t want to spook her, and she kicked again, almost in response. “That’s her?” he asked, breathless.

“Yeah,” you grinned, “that’s her.” And then, feeling like your heart was cracking wide open, you added, “She’s saying hi to her daddy.”

You felt his breath hitch through his hands on you. He looked up, tears in his eyes and a scared, happy, joyful smile on his face. He moved one hand up to your cheek while the other stayed pressed to the spot where your daughter was, and kissed you, soft and slow and happy. So, so happy.

You were sharing the couch with Ransom, both reading quietly with Lola snuggled between you, when it washed over you. This had happened a few times now. Heat coursing through your whole body. Need. Out of nowhere. You knew it was normal. You’d read about it in your books. But that didn’t make it any easier.

The last time you’d tried to take care of it yourself while Ransom was at work, but you’d discovered that your belly was now too big for you to reach around and get to your core, even with your vibrator. So you’d cried alone in your bed until it finally passed. You didn’t know if you’d be able to do that again.

You looked over at Ransom over your book. God, he was so beautiful. It still kind of made you mad, even after all this time. The way your feet were pulled up onto the couch, your toes just barely grazed his thigh. You moved back quickly. As much as every part of your body was screaming at you to crawl onto his lap and make him fuck you, you couldn’t actually do that. You didn’t even know if he wanted it. Plus, you were pretty sure that if he touched you, you’d actually explode.

At your movement, he looked up at you. “You okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed the way it did anytime you displayed the slightest hint of discomfort or displeasure.

You smiled and hoped it didn’t come across as a grimace. “I’m fine, just a little uncomfortable.”

“Do you want me to go get you another pillow? Would that help?”

You shook your head vigorously. “Nope! I’m fine. It’s fine. Just ignore me.” You took a deep, slow breath as the need got even worse.

And the way he was pinning you down with his gaze wasn’t helping. “You don’t seem like you’re uncomfortable. You seem like you’re in pain.” He reached a hand out to you, and you shrank back, knowing that if he touched you, you’d lose all semblance of control.

“It’s not pain, Ransom, I promise. Please. Please just drop it.” You could feel the tears starting to gather in your eyes as your whole body felt like it was about to catch fire.

“I’m not going to drop it if there’s something I can do to help,” he said firmly, and you wanted to scream.

“No, it’s– It’s fine, I just–“ You closed your eyes as you struggled to breathe normally. Finally, you gave up. He was worse than Steve; you weren’t going to be able to keep hiding this from him. “It’s the hormones. I just get really horny sometimes. Out of nowhere. And it’s awful, but it’ll pass.”

You felt the way he went completely still and opened your eyes. He was staring at you, a smirk on his face. “Well,” he said, and his voice had dropped at least an octave. It shot right through you. “That sounds like the exact sort of thing I can help with.”

“Ransom–“You shook your head, not sure of what to say. Not trusting yourself to say anything.

The smirk dropped off his face, and his eyes got serious. “Do you want me to help you with this?” he asked. And it wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t sexy. It was a real question, and you knew that if you said no, he would leave you alone. Or maybe make you some tea. Find another way to help, to make you comfortable. But he wouldn’t touch you. And he wouldn’t keep asking.

Your eyes slipped closed again. “You don’t have to,” you answered, your voice small.

“Hey, look at me,” he commanded gently. You forced yourself to open your eyes, and he continued. “I know exactly what I do and don’t have to do. Do you want me to help you with this?”

With one more deep breath, you tried not to whine as you answered, “Yes. Please.”

And before the words had even fully left your mouth, he’d lunged across the couch and captured your lips in a deep, passionate, hungry kiss. It felt like he might eat you alive, and you wanted it. You wanted everything he could give you.

He had you flat on the couch, his body covering yours, even with your bump in the way. You took the opportunity when he came up for air to whine, “More. I– I–“

A gentle hand on your cheek grounded you. “I know, I know. I need you in my bed. Think you can get upstairs?”

A bed sounded nice with the way you were sagging off the couch. But you were also pretty sure that if he stopped touching you, you’d die. You clutched onto his wrist. “I think, but–“

“Yeah, I know,” he said, even as he peppered your neck with kisses, “I’ve got you.”

He helped you off the couch, never letting go of you. And as he moved you up the stairs, some part of him was always touching you. A hand wrapped around your wrist, another on your hip, his lips on the back of your neck.

Once in his bedroom, he stopped you before you could climb onto the bed. He kissed you again, breaking for just long enough to lift your t-shirt over your head and fling it behind him. One more kiss and then he was kneeling down beside you, working your leggings down your legs to the point you could kick them off your feet. Then, his hands moved reverently up your body—your ankles, your calves, your thighs—to your panties, which he pulled down with equal reverence. Then he continued moving up, placing a gentle kiss on your belly and then working to undo your bra. Once he’d freed your breasts, he took them in both hands as he buried his face in your neck.

“Ransom,” you whined, tugging on his shirt, as he still somehow had all of his clothes on. You needed them off. You needed them off right now.

You felt him grin into your neck, and then he pulled away enough that you could get his shirt off. You ran both hands up his stomach and chest. How was he fair? How was he yours? (Because he was now. He was he was he was.) You dropped your hands to undo his pants, but he stopped you, lifting them so he could kiss your knuckles. Then he very carefully laid you down on his bed, moving a pillow to support your lower back. He trailed kisses down your entire body before he stood back up and took the rest of his clothes off as fast as he possibly could.

Once he was finally naked, he paused for a moment at the foot of the bed, and you both just stared at each other. Even as you’d gotten to know him, gotten used to him, you’d never get used to the way he seemed like he was carved from marble. Or how his skin glowed. Or how–

“God, look at you,” his whisper interrupted your thoughts. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” And then his hands were back on your body, spreading your legs so that he could slot himself between them. He hooked one ankle over his shoulder. “That feel okay?” he asked.

All you could do was nod, and he immediately returned his lips to you, working his way up your inner thigh. With a jolt, you realized what he meant to do, and you reached out an urgent hand to him. “You don’t have to–“ you started but were cut off when he turned back to you with a playful glare.

“What did I say about that?” he asked, his voice so low.

He’d gone back to kissing up your thigh, and you had to force yourself to take a breath, to unfog your mind, to remember what he said. “You said–” you paused with a gasp as his lips got so, so close to the center of you. “You said you already know what you do and don’t have to do.”

“That’s right,” he muttered into your thigh. “And I want to do this. I’m desperate to find out what you taste like.” Then he lifted his head to make eye contact with you. “But if you really don’t want me to, I won’t.” You took another breath and opened your mouth, even though you weren’t sure what your response would be. “But please, please, let me taste you, baby. I’ll stop if you hate it. I promise.”

“What if you hate it?” you asked, voice small, even as you were desperate to just finally say yes.

He laughed and sent you a dirty smirk. “I can guaran-fucking-tee that I won’t.”

Your body was burning up again, so with a small moan you finally let go. “Yes, please.”

And just like that, his mouth was on you. You threw your head back on a gasp, like all the air had been punched out of your body. Your hands bunched into the sheets on either side of your head as he lapped at you like a man starved. You felt his tongue moving between your folds, getting to know you, searching for your clit. The second he found it, your eyes slammed shut, your body spasmed, and you felt more than heard his pleased hum. He experimented with licks first, before he wrapped his tongue around it and gave it a hard suck. You couldn’t help the lewd moan you released, and that seemed to be all the encouragement he needed.

You’d never felt anything like this. Not with the only other person you’d ever had sex with. And you’d certainly never let Ransom do anything like this before, not when getting pregnant had been the only goal and everything else had seemed like a waste of time. And definitely not by yourself. You’d never taken such care with yourself.

Your breaths were coming fast as you felt yourself climbing, climbing, climbing. A good, soft warmth was moving through your body as you felt his hands on your hips, firmly holding onto you. Keeping you from floating away. Your eyes slipped open; you weren’t sure why, but you were immediately met with Ransom’s intense gaze, locked on your face to take in every single nuance of your reaction. And the way he was looking at you, watching you…

That was what did it. That was what sent you over the edge. The way that he saw you. The look in his eyes. You came with a cry, your body shaking apart, only anchored by his hands on your hips, pinning you down to earth.

His mouth stayed on you through your whole orgasm and all the aftershocks. Drinking you up, like he couldn’t get enough. Then, slowly but surely, he began working his way back up you, his lips and hands moving in tandem as he traversed your whole body. Once he got to your neck, he nuzzled into you before meeting your eyes with a cocky smirk. “Feeling better?”

You tried to nod, but all of your bones were like jelly. And while the need inside of you was no longer so insistent, no longer hot enough to burn, there was still something simmering under the surface. Something that had made your legs clamp around Ransom at some point and now wouldn’t let him go. “I– I need–“ you tried to explain to him, but the words wouldn’t string together.

Ransom quirked an eyebrow, and his smirk turned dirty. “You need more, baby?” he asked, voice low. “It’s okay. You can tell me what you need, what you want.”

You felt your face heating up. Your eyes wanted to slip closed, to avoid the way he was looking at you, but you forced them to stay open. “I want–“ You tried to put what you were feeling into words, but everything just felt clumsy. You tried again, summing it up as best you could. “I want you.”

The smile that bloomed on Ransom’s face—you weren’t sure you’d ever seen it before. Cocky and hungry and happy, all rolled together. “I want you, too,” he said softly as he dipped his head down to kiss you, tender and eager with a thread of filth that you wanted to follow. But he broke it off too soon. “Do you want me inside you?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed, and he kissed you again. His hand landed gently between your thighs, one and then two fingers working their way inside of you. They were big and thick as they spread you, but they weren’t enough. “Ransom,” you whined, “I need– That’s not–“

“Hey, I know,” he cooed softly, still working you open with his fingers, “I’m just making sure that orgasm got you ready to take me. I want it to feel good.”

Suddenly you felt self-conscious; he’d already done so much for and to you, and you hadn’t even offered to do anything for him in return. You reached for his length. “I can help get you ready, too,” you said, a little embarrassed.

Ransom laughed, his head thrown back, but it wasn’t mean; it wasn’t judging. It was warm and playful. “Babe, I’m harder than a fucking diamond right now. I don’t need a goddamn thing to get me ready for you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he said with a grin. “You’re so hot like this. Your taste on my lips and the thought of your warm pussy are all I need to get me going. You ready too? You comfortable?”

You flopped back down, giving in to your body and what it was telling you. “Yes, I– Yes.”

That was all it took for him to kiss you again, his body fully covering your own, taking special care to keep his weight off your stomach, as he carefully slid his fingers out of you. You whined at the emptiness, but the shortest moment later he was lining himself up and slowly filling you with his cock.

On instinct, or maybe out of habit, your eyes slammed closed, retreating inside yourself as you felt your insides stretch to try to accommodate him. But before you got very far, you were brought back by a hand, Ransom’s hand, squeezing yours gently.

“Hey, open your eyes,” he directed softly. You did, immediately, and found his blue gaze boring into you. “It’s okay,” he whispered, “You can be here, right now. I’ve got you. It’s okay. I promise. I’ve got you.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. You believed him. You trusted him. As he bottomed out inside of you, you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close. For a long moment neither of you moved, and all you could feel was his cock spreading you open and his stuttered breaths on your neck. And then he shifted so that his forehead touched yours and his lips brushed your lips as he said, “Fucking shit. You feel so fucking good. Tell me– Please tell me I can move. Goddamn.”

“Ransom, please, yes, please,” tumbled out of you as you felt so full you thought you might lose your mind. And it only got worse as he began to rock in and out of you. “Ransom, Ransom,” you chanted, your arms still wrapped around him. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek, and you felt electricity flow through you where he touched you.

He shifted his hips and hit a spot inside of you that had a cry suddenly tearing through you. “Yeah?” he asked with a proud grin. “Right there?”

“Please, yes, yes, yes,” you babbled as he kept hitting it and you were climbing again, up and up and up and–

“Let go,” he whispered in your ear, as his thumb began to press insistent circles on your clit, “go ahead. I’ve got you. I want to see it again.”

One more thrust and you did what he asked, sailing over the edge, shaking apart as you gripped him tightly to you.

“Goddammit, look at you, you’re so beautiful. You feel so fucking good,” he babbled as he fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own. “Holy fuck,” he growled as he joined you not long after, filling you up and holding you tight.

The two of you stayed collapsed on the bed in a heap, just breathing heavily into each other’s necks. After several long moments, Ransom tried to move, but you couldn’t figure out how to move your limbs to let him go. “Hey,” he assured you softly, “I just want to get us cleaned up.”

“Not yet,” you whispered. “Just– Not yet.”

“Yeah, okay. Okay,” he soothed you, dropping his body back down so that he blanketed you again.

Focused on Ransom’s breathing, you slowly came back to yourself. Once the high of your orgasms slowly ebbed away, you couldn’t explain the loss you felt. You knew, intellectually, that it was probably all hormones, but that didn’t stop you from feeling a profound grief for everything that may have been. You were crying, you realized, too late to try to be able to hide it. And it wouldn’t have made a difference. Ransom was watching you too closely to not pick up on every little nuance.

“What’s wrong?” he immediately asked. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “No, no, you didn’t do anything. I’m okay. I’m good.”

“But something’s wrong?” His hand was tentatively running up and down your arm now, doing what he could to soothe you without knowing the cause.

“No, not really. I– I just–“ You took a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from crying harder. “I just didn’t know it could be like that. I wish it had always been like that.”

“Oh,” he said softly, under his breath, shifting so that he was no longer on top of you but still touching you with as much of his body as he could.

“And I know, I know that that’s all my fault. I know that I pushed and I pushed and– But I didn’t know. I just didn’t know.” A fresh wave of tears came, and you didn’t object as Ransom pulled you closer to him so that you could bury your face in his chest.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re alright. There’s nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t your fault. You were very scared, and we didn’t know each other. It wasn’t your fault.” He didn’t say anything else as he rubbed your back and let you cry it out.

After a few minutes, you pulled away, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m ruining the mood. It really was so good. You made me feel so good.”

That got the return of his cocky smirk. “Yeah? It sure seemed like you enjoyed it.” Then his smile softened significantly. “You made me feel good, too.”

“Oh?” You ducked your head, suddenly shy. “That’s, that’s good. I’m glad. I want to– I want to do more. Next time. I want to learn what you like.”

“Next time, huh?” he grinned. “Yeah, we’ve got lots of next times in front of us. If you want. Plenty of time to learn about each other.”

You scooted closer to him, to cuddle into his warmth. “Yeah? That sounds really nice.”

“It will be,” he said definitively, wrapping an arm around you.

You were both quiet for a long time, just enjoying this peace together, when he stiffened a little bit and shifted. You looked up at his face to find him looking thoughtful, hesitant. Without thinking, you reached up to smooth out the furrow between his brows with your thumb. “What are you thinking about?”

He grimaced, like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “I, uh– Shit. I’m not good at this.”

“Good at what?” you asked.

“Asking for something I want. Even admitting that I want something I don’t already have.”

“What are you talking about?” You felt like you’d missed part of a conversation he’d been having with himself.

He sighed, put out, then mumbled, “I want you to stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him, a little confused.

“No, I mean–“ he sighed again and then turned onto his back so that he was no longer looking you in the eye. “I want you to stay here, in this room. I want it to be ours. I don’t want you to sleep across the hall anymore. And when we move into the new house, I want us both to be in the primary suite. I want it to be ours. I want everything to be ours.”

You could feel how big and round your eyes had gotten. “Oh,” was all you could say. But really, why were you so surprised? The part of you that believed that people only kept you around because they had to, that Ransom would rather have his life go back to normal but was stuck with you, had been getting quieter and quieter every day. Your husband had shown you how untrue that was in countless ways. So why couldn’t this be true too?

But Ransom seemed to take your shocked silence as resistance, so he kept going. “I know you want your own space, and I’m not saying that room has to go back to my gym, or– Or– It can still be yours. But I just– I miss you in my bed. Lola too, the little blanket-hogging jerk. I’m tired of sleeping alone. I miss you.”

Tears were pricking at your eyes again, but this time they were good tears. They were tears of feeling so wanted, and wanting right back. They were tears of belonging.

“Please say something,” Ransom whispered, finally turning back to look at you. And he looked so scared. Scared of being vulnerable. Scared of being rejected. Scared of a life lived separately.

“Of course,” you whispered back. “Of course, I will, Ransom. I’d love to.”

And he seemed so young when he beamed at you in response. So hopeful. “Thank you,” he breathed, and kissed you on the forehead, because that was the part of you he could reach first. “Thank you,” he said again, and then pulled you into a soft, grateful kiss.

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If his behaviour didn’t alert you that something definitely was not right, the redness that spreads over Jake’s cheeks and ears would. He’s blushing so hard, you’re afraid he might start fevering. 

“Jake,” you say his name softly, “just tell me what’s wrong.”

You sit up a little, to match Jake’s position as he sits so far on the edge of the bed that he risks falling off. He has his back pressed to the headboard and the covers pulled up to his chin. He’s definitely not cold, since it’s the middle of a heatwave summer, plus he generally runs hot. 

“Nothing. It’s just- it’s just there’s only one bed.” He laments. 

True, the one bed situation at the hotel surprised you a little. Your cousin, whose wedding you were attending, knew you’d be coming with your friend Jake. She knew that you were just friends. But apparently the hotel put all people attending the wedding with a plus one as a couple. Hence, one bed in your bedroom.

Which isn't really an issue. Or so you thought. 

“What about the bed?” You patiently ask Jake. 

He turns even redder. You hope he won’t have a stroke. 

“You’re in it!” Jake blurts out. 

After that, the words keep spilling. 

“You were so close, and you’re so beautiful, and you’re warm, and you smell nice, and your ass was pressed into me, and I got hard, and now you’re looking all cute all mussed up and soft, and damnit I’m getting even fucking harder just looking at you, and we’re friends, and I’m sorry, and-”

“Jake!” You interrupt him before he suffocates from the lax of oxygen. 

He stops, mouth open mid-sentence. He keeps looking at you, all embarrassed and eager, and mortified. 

His confession doesn’t make you feel awkward. Quite the contrary, something light and warm blooms in your belly then spreads in fluttering waves through your chest. And down between your legs. 

“Will you show me?” You ask, biting your lower lip.

“Will I-?” Jake stutters, pupils widening further. “You want me to- show you my-?”

“Your hard cock, yes.” You grin and giggle when he nearly chokes on air. 

When he just stares at you, a little helpless and probably losing all blood from his brain, you sigh softly. Still smiling at him. 

“Jake,” you scoot closer to him, but still leaving him space in case he doesn’t want that closeness. “I’ve been ogling your biceps and ass for the past half a year. Thinking about your cock did occasionally happen, too. So you getting hard from sharing a bed with me doesn’t exactly offend me in any way.”

“You’ve been checking me out?” Jake blinks a few times. “I’ve been checking you out the whole time! Shit! Sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that. But why- why wouldn’t you say something?”

“Because, apparently, we’re both disasters?” You point between the two of you. “I thought you wouldn’t be into me and that it would ruin our friendship.”

“I thought you wouldn’t be into me.” Jake laughs awkwardly and drops the covers he’s been holding tightly under his chin. 

The fabric pools around his waist, exposing his broad chest and the amazing biceps. 

“See, we’re disasters.” You snort, then burst out laughing.

“Oh my god!” You wheeze. “I can’t believe your wood made us confess our feelings!” 

Jake laughs at that, too, though his expression still holds a tint of shyness. It makes him even cuter. Makes your heart soften for him, as well. Jake may sometimes act a bold flirt, but he’s actually very genuine and respectful. 

“Can I, uh, assume-” Jake clears his throat after your laughing fit ceases- “that we’re both interested in each other and want to be more than friends?” 

You tilt your head to the side, purposely dragging your eyes down his torso and slowly back up to his face. 

“Yes. I want to be more than friends, Jake.” You reply with a soft smile. 

“Can I, in turn, assume-” your smile turns into a smirk- “that you’ll show me how hard you got for me?” 

“You really want that? Now?” Jake’s voice turns huskier. 

You don’t say anything back. Instead, you take off your tank top and fling it across the room. 

"AAAH!"

"HOLD STILL!"

"It's cold!"

"It's for your own protection!" You puff out your cheeks at Jake, like a small angry chipmunk. "I'll even warm it up in my hands for you first if you're going to be such a baby about it."

Jake pouts and makes a noise in the back of his throat, unsure of how truthful you're being. You huff and rub the cream on your palms before showing them to him in a means of truce.

"Come on, honey." You plead, already seeing the red marks under his eyes where the glass of his glasses has amplified the power of the sun on his skin. "Whose gonna be there to protect me from all the water balloons if you're catatonic with sunstroke?"

This, it seems, makes Jake concede. He can't leave you to fend for yourself against his friends and family.

He gives you a resigned sigh. "Alright. Fine."

You try not to smile, cupping his face and running your thumbs along his burned cheeks. Trails of sunscreen are left in your wake, until you gently rub it in. It quickly becomes a make shift massage. Your hands trail from his face to his neck, then his shoulders; where a short squeeze of the shoulder muscles makes your boyfriend suppress a sound you know to well.

"Oh," you tease softly, pumping more suncream into your palm. "Bet you're wishing you hand this sooner, huh?"

"Shut up." Jake mumbles, half-heartedly annoyed. He jumps with a squeal when you press, cold creamy hands onto his bare back.

"What was that, babe?" You taunt, furiously rubbing the cream in as he tries to flail miserably away from you.

"Ahh no!" He wriggles beneath you, laughing. "No fair! No fair!"

He flops, then flips, so that you are beneath him instead. He tries to catch his breath but you steal it when you run your hands down his bare torso with a wicked grin.

"There." You say, booping a small blob of cream onto his nose. "Now it's just your legs."

"My-" Jake shivers and shakes his head with a broad grin. "Yes. My legs."

You snort. "Then we will be outside."

"Yes. Outside." Jake nods, moving off of you. "Of course."

"Jake," you narrow your eyes playfully. "Then outside."

"Yeah, yeah. Then outside, I heard you."

Suffice to say, by the time you got outside it was already much, much cooler. And Jake needed another dousing of sunscreen.

End

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Make sure y'all wear hats and sunscreen - and DRINK SOME WATER 😡

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You forced yourself to let it go, gently setting it on the counter. “My mom called,” you conceded.

His hand immediately moved from Lola to your back, not moving. Just a steady presence there. “Everything okay?” he asked quietly.

You nodded again. “They’re—uh, she and Joseph—they’re coming here next week. Want to see us.”

“Oh. They aren’t going to stay with us, are they?” He sounded a little alarmed at the prospect, which made you smile.

“No, definitely not. Joseph will find the nicest suite in Boston, I’m sure.”

Ransom gave you a small smile. “A man after my own heart,” he joked.

You couldn’t quite join him. “Sure,” you shrugged.

His hand on your back became firmer. “Will it be nice,” he asked softly, “to see your mom?”

You took a deep breath. “Is it stupid if I say I miss her?” you asked quietly instead of answering him.

“No,” he said immediately. Firmly. “I can’t relate. But it’s definitely not stupid.”

You finally turned your body to him. “She’s really excited about the baby. That she gets to be a grandma.”

“That’s good,” he said, his hand on your back moving to your stomach, seemingly involuntarily. Like a magnet. That’s how it’d been for the last couple of weeks. Since you’d kissed. Since you’d talked. Otherwise, not much had changed in how he acted. Kisses when he left in the morning and usually when he got home. Or before he and you parted ways to go to your own bedrooms at night. He was taking things slowly. Presumably following your lead. But his hands. His hands always found you.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“How long will they be here?”

“Really just a day, I think. They want to have dinner with us. And Joseph wants to set up at least eighteen holes with you.”

Ransom’s hand shrank back from you, a look of horror on his face. “He wants to golf?!”

You shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Why?”

“Because technically you’re his son-in-law. And I’m sure he’ll have some deal or something he’ll want to talk over with you too.”

He rolled his eyes. “I fucking hate golf.”

“That’s fine,” you shrugged. “He’ll expect to win anyway.”

He looked affronted at that. “I didn’t say I was bad at it! Just that it’s a stupid way to waste your time.”

You sighed. “Well, can you do it for one afternoon? Just to make my life easier?”

He gave you a considering look. “You hate him?” he asked.

“I do,” you said, very quietly.

“Alright,” he said with a decisive nod. “I’ll play a fucking round of golf. And I’ll demolish him.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that bloomed on your face. “Sure, Ransom,” you said fondly. You doubted it. Joseph golfed more than he worked. But the sentiment was really nice.

He took a step back into your space. The arm that wasn’t holding Lola wrapped around your waist. “You okay with them coming here? Really?”

And you knew, in that moment, that if you said “No,” he would figure out a way to keep them as far away from you as he could. Warmth bloomed in your chest. You still hadn’t gotten over the fact that he cared. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’ll be good to see my mom.”

“Okay,” he said, with a shockingly gentle kiss to your forehead. “Then I guess I can tolerate golf with Joseph for an afternoon.”

You woke up early the morning your mother was visiting. You had too much nervous energy to sleep. So you got up, took care of Lola, and started making breakfast for yourself and Ransom.

Your mom was going to come spend the day with you at the house, and then you’d go to the country club together to meet Joseph and Ransom for dinner after they were done golfing. Spending the entire day with her would be good. It would.

Ransom didn’t comment when he got up and found you already in the kitchen. He just kept you company as you cooked. He seemed to understand that you needed the silence filled, so he told you about what he expected his work day to include. A new author coming in, a probable fight with Walt, paperwork he’d been putting off. He didn’t make any mention of the time he’d be spending with Joseph this afternoon, and you were grateful. You were anxious enough already.

Too soon, you were both done with breakfast, and Ransom had gone back upstairs to finish getting ready. The doorbell sounded, and you took a deep breath before answering it.

Your mother stood on the front step, looking put together but maybe as nervous as you were. And frail. She looked very frail. She smiled at the sight of you, as big as she had ever managed. Despite all of the feelings that always swirled around inside of you when you thought of her, you smiled too. And then you threw your arms around her in a big hug.

You hugged her as tightly as you thought she could handle, as you breathed in the familiar floral notes of the perfume Joseph always got her for her birthday. And she hugged you back, her face pressed close.

“Oh honey, I’ve missed you so much,” she said softly.

“I’ve missed you too, Mom,” you replied. And you meant it. Eventually, you pulled away. “Did you have breakfast at your hotel? Can I make you something?” you asked as you ushered her into the house.

“Oh no, you don’t need to do that. We had a nice spread at the hotel. But if you wanted to share a pot of tea, I wouldn’t say n-“

The sound of footsteps hit the stairs, and your mom stopped talking immediately. You watched as her eyes tracked Ransom as he came down. Her body curled inward, just a bit, somehow making herself look even smaller than normal. “Ransom,” you called to him once he was in the room, wanting to break the strange tension that had suddenly filled the space. “You remember my mom, Lydia.”

Ransom stopped short, right next to you. A vague look of surprise on his face. He quickly schooled his expression into something much more neutral, and you made a mental note to ask him about it later. “Yes, of course,” he said, taking a step forward but stopping when she took a small step back. “It’s lovely to see you. I hope you got here alright.”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

She didn’t say anything else. An uneasy silence settled over all three of you. You tried to catch your mom’s eye, see if she was okay, but she couldn't keep her wary gaze off of Ransom.

“Well,” Ransom finally spoke, as awkward as you’d ever heard him, “I should get going.” He turned to you, one hand immediately going to your bump. “You’re sure you’re going to be okay?” he asked, lowly, just for you.

You ducked your head with a shy smile at his care and nodded. His other hand came up to briefly caress your cheek as he gave you a small peck on the lips. Then he grabbed his work bag and headed out the door, calling out behind him, “I hope you have a good day together. I’ll see you both at dinner.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, you could feel your mom’s relief. You took a step towards her. “Mom, are you–“

“This is such a lovely home,” she said, stepping past you to look into the living room.

You blinked after her, trying to track what was happening. “Oh, um, thank you. We’re actually moving soon, though. Before the baby comes. We found a house we both really like.”

She looked at you, surprised. “He let you help decide?”

There was something about the question that made your heart crack, just a little. You weren’t sure yet who for. “Yeah, Mom. We discussed what we wanted. We’ll both be living there, after all.”

She opened her mouth to respond before she was distracted by Lola running into the room and jumping up onto the couch. “Oh!” your mom exclaimed. “I didn’t know you still had your little dog!”

You did your best to ignore the implication of that—that she’d assumed Ransom would make you give her up—and went to Lola to scratch behind her ears. “Of course, I do. Lola goes wherever I go, don’t you, baby?”

You looked up to find your mom staring at you, her expression tricky to read. There was relief there, first and foremost, but something else you couldn't quite decipher. After a very long pause, she said very quietly, “He must be very fond of you.”

All you could do was blink at her for a moment. Then, “Yes, I think so. I think– We’re fond of each other. We get along well.” It felt strange to talk about your relationship this way. It felt so new and– and delicate. And yours. You didn’t know how to talk about it with someone who hadn’t been there for the whole thing.

“He really isn’t so bad?” she asked with a hopeful tinge to her voice.

“No,” you said, “he’s not so bad at all. Now that I’ve gotten to know him.”

And at that, her body sagged. Like she’d finally released a breath she’d been holding for the last eight months. Her eyes were watery when she looked you in the eyes and said, her voice shaking a little, “That’s good. That’s so good.”

You took a step towards her and held out one hand. “Mom,” you asked, “are you alright?”

“Of course,” she said, too quickly, with a wobbly smile. “I’m just so happy to see you.”

“Yeah,” you said, but kept a careful eye on her. “Me too, Mom.”

You were able to busy yourself for a few minutes by preparing a few mugs of herbal tea for both of you before you settled on the couch in the living room with her.

Once you were seated, she put a hesitant hand on your stomach with a soft smile. “You’re glowing,” she said. “Is everything going well with the baby so far?”

“Yeah, I think so. The doctor doesn’t have any concerns right now. And they’ve started moving. It’s wild to think that there’s an actual person growing in there. I’m really looking forward to meeting them. And I think Ransom’s getting excited too.”

Her smile shifted a little. “Men are always excited to meet their sons.” And at that, you couldn’t help the way your smile dropped. Your mom noticed, of course. “Have you found out the baby’s sex yet?”

You turned away some as you shook your head. “No,” you said very quietly. “That appointment’s next week.”

“Do you have a feeling either way?” your mother asked urgently.

“No,” you lied. Of course, you had an inkling. One that had been growing stronger every day. But you hadn’t dared voice that feeling yet. It was too terrifying. “I have no idea. I just want them to be safe and healthy.”

“Sweetheart,” she placed a hand on yours, demanding your attention. “That– No, you can’t afford to think that way. You need to be prepared in case the worst happens.”

“The worst?” you asked, voice small, unable to look at her.

“There’s no greater heartbreak than having a daughter.”

You almost gasped, the words hitting you right in your chest, deep and sharp. You couldn’t help the way your hands came up to cradle your stomach, wanting to protect the person inside if you couldn't protect yourself. “Mom,” you whispered, torn apart.

“Honey, I love you so much. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. But– But men want sons. Especially for the first one. They need heirs. And you and your children won’t be truly safe until you give Ransom an heir. I’m sorry, but it’s true. You must remember what it was like when your father died without an heir.”

“I–“ you started, but came up short. Your earliest memories were all a blur. You remembered feelings. Fear of your father. And then panic after he died. But nothing specific.

“It was the scariest time of my life. Even scarier than when I first married him. Because he died without an heir, because I hadn’t given him one, everything reverted back to his family. And my family wouldn’t take us back. You and I, we had nothing. Honey, I didn’t know where we were going to sleep or how I was going to feed you. I was so terrified. If I’d had a son, none of that would have happened. And I tried, after you were born, I tried so hard to give your father what he wanted. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t give him another child, a son, so when he died, I had to do everything I could to find someone else to take care of us. We’re so lucky that Joseph was willing to take us in, that he already had an heir, and that he didn’t need that from me. He saved us.

“I don’t want any of that for you. Ransom is fond of you. That’s good. He’ll forgive you if this baby isn’t a boy. But if it isn’t, you need to try to have a son again as soon as you can. You can’t hesitate. You never know what might happen.”

“Mom, please–“

She gripped your hands tightly, “I know this is difficult to hear, but you need to listen to me. This is so important. I don’t want you to go through what I went through. I want a better life for you. Do you understand?”

You swallowed harshly. She was looking at you with such desperation that for a long moment all you could do was nod. You believed Ransom when he said he cared about you, cared about this baby. But you’d also seen previously doting husbands turn cold when their hope of an heir, their legacy, came unfulfilled. As painful as it was, your mother was right. You couldn’t afford to ignore everything that was at stake here.

“Yes, Mom,” you finally answered, voice rough. “I understand.”

She exhaled in relief as her grip on your hands lessened but didn’t disappear. “Honey, even though you weren’t the heir your father wanted, I was so happy when I finally got to meet you. I didn’t have to be alone anymore. You’ve always been the greatest joy of my life. And no matter what happens, this baby will be that for you too. You’re going to be such a wonderful mother. I just know it.”

You blinked back the tears threatening to spill over your lashes. Your heart was breaking for numerous reasons you couldn’t even name. You moved one hand from her grasp and used it to gently cradle your stomach. “I hope so,” you said, too quietly. “I want to be good for them.”

“You will be,” she said, with one final, loving pat to your hand. Then she reached for her tea and began to ask you about your new house. And you tried to pretend like everything was fine.

You got to the restaurant at the country club feeling raw and anxious. You’d wanted to enjoy your day with your mom, but her words from this morning were hanging over your head.

Ransom and Joseph were already at the table. Ransom with a shit-eating grin on his face while Joseph looked thunderous. Ransom stood to greet you as soon as you were at the table, with a gentle kiss on your cheek. With a wary eye towards Joseph, you asked, “How was the golf?”

Ransom’s grin got even bigger. “I think it went pretty well!” he said, surprisingly brightly, loud enough for the whole table to hear. “Especially for my very first time. I won by three strokes!”

“Goddamn beginner’s luck,” Joseph grumbled under his breath from his side of the table, where your mom was already sitting stiffly next to him. He barely acknowledged her.

You looked back at Ransom, slightly confused. Just last week he’d told you he was an experienced golfer. At his subtle wink, you had to work hard to stifle your laughter. You couldn’t think of anything that would piss off Joseph more than being beaten by a supposed beginner.

“How was your day together?” Ransom asked as he pulled out your chair for you.

“It was nice,” you said. And parts of it were. The little girl inside you would always be happy to see your mom. Even if every flinch, every sigh, every piece of advice felt like a dire warning for the life you could have, the person you could become if you weren’t very, very careful. You smiled over at her, and she smiled back, even if it was a little fragile.

Joseph rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Lydia’s been very excited to see you. Hopefully she got all that chattering out of her system.”

And just like that, your mom shrank back down, like she was trying to take up as little space at this table as possible. Joseph saved us. Your mother’s words from that morning echoed in your head. Had the cost been worth it? Had any of this ever been worth it?

Ransom leaned forward. “She’s been really looking forward to your visit, too.” He said to your mother, sincerely. “I hope it was a really good day.”

She looked up at him briefly before looking away again. “Yes, it was,” she said very softly. “Thank you.”

You reached under the table and grabbed Ransom’s hand. He didn’t react, but he gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze.

Joseph spent most of the dinner only talking to Ransom, which was honestly fine with you. You tried to engage your mom in conversation on your end of the table, but now that the two of you were no longer alone, she didn’t have much to say. Her eyes kept darting nervously to where the men were talking.

You didn’t catch what prompted it, but your attention was caught when Joseph laughed, “You’ll feel differently once your own son is born in a few months!”

Your son your son your son

But this baby isn’t a boy something inside you responded with a certainty you could not have. There was no way to know that. There was no reason to be so sure.

You were too busy spiraling to catch if and how Ransom responded. But then Joseph turned to you and captured all of your attention. “And look at you, Sweetheart,” he said, his tone slick and smug and awful, “you’re glowing. Don’t you feel silly for the scene you made that night? I told you it was just cold feet.”

Your heart lurched at his words. You didn’t have to pause to try to remember what he was talking about. That awful night when you’d gone to the man who’d raised you since you were six years old and begged him to have a shred of humanity and not all but sell you to a stranger. The night your step-father had laughed at you and patronized you and turned you away. The night your entire world had come crashing down and this man who was supposed to be your family hadn’t cared.

You knew you should say something. You knew you should stand up for yourself, but all you could do was choke on the words as you felt yourself going back in time. As you remembered how completely terrified you’d been.

Ransom went completely still next to you, still holding your hand under the table. “Cold feet?” he asked, his head tilting dangerously. “What are you talking about?”

Joseph seemed to be the only one who hadn’t noticed how tense the atmosphere had gotten. He chuckled. “Oh, she came to me after your first dinner. Fussing about the pregnancy clause. She begged me not to make her go through with the arrangement.” He rolled his eyes. “I told her she was being ridiculous, of course. That there was a lot more riding on this than some silly girl’s nerves over being a mother. And look at her now! I was right. Everything worked out fine.”

Ransom got very, very quiet. The only part of him that moved was a muscle in his jaw that ticked angrily. You squeezed his hand under the table, unsure of what he was going to do. And equally unsure if you wanted to stop him or not.

But before anyone else could say anything, your mom rushed in, her voice panicked and urgent, even as she tried to keep her tone light. “Oh, no, but– But she didn’t mean anything by it! All girls get nervous! It’s normal! It wasn’t anything against you! She just– She– She–“

“My god, Lydia,” Joseph interrupted. “What are you babbling about?”

Your mom went silent, but her eyes stayed on Ransom, desperate, pleading.

You felt Ransom take a deep breath and force his body to relax. He leaned across the table to your mom and said, voice calm and reassuring. “I would never be upset with her for being scared. I promise.” But as he turned from her to Joseph, you watched his face turn to stone. “But I can’t imagine ever turning away my own child if they were that scared of something.”

“It isn’t like she’s my actual child,” Joseph scoffed. “And she was overreacting, being dramatic. Everything turned out fine!”

Ransom’s eyes narrowed as he hummed in thought. “You think you’d be a little more grateful to her, considering the fact that you’ve been trying to get the rights to Harlan’s works for decades without any luck. The only thing that made the deal go through this time was the fact that her addition finally made the pot sweet enough. So it might be a good idea to remember, if I were you, that the one thing holding together the only significant rights deal your flagging studio has had in years is the woman sitting next to me. Just a thought.” And then, just like that, he went back to eating his steak, like nothing had happened. But the hand holding yours shifted so that he could thread your fingers together.

You were quiet on the car ride home. Saying goodbye to your mom had been difficult, even as much as you were ready for your life to go back to normal, whatever that might be. She’d hugged you so tight. You hadn’t wanted to let go.

You were leaning your head against the window, watching the world go by in the dark, when Ransom cleared his throat. “And I thought Linda was a piece of work.” His attempt at humor hung in the air awkwardly. You didn’t say anything or turn to look at him. You were too tired.

“Sorry,” he said after another few long, silent moments. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said into the window. “I’m fine.” You knew he hated that word, but you didn’t know what else to say.

It was quiet as Ransom merged onto the highway, and then he tried again. “How old was your mom when she had you?”

That finally got you to turn your head. “What?”

He glanced over at you before returning his eyes to the road. “She was a lot younger than I expected.”

You gave him a confused look. “You met her before, didn’t you? At the wedding.”

He sighed and looked at you again. “That was a hard day. There was a lot that never really registered,” he answered, somewhat sheepishly. “And so today, I was surprised. I expected someone older.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “She was twenty with me.”

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself. “And your dad?” he asked, like he didn’t really want to know the answer.

You shrugged, shrinking in on yourself, just a bit. “I don’t know. I was really little, and– I don’t know. Old enough to have a heart attack, I guess.”

“Jesus Christ,” Ransom muttered to himself again.

He didn’t say anything else, but you were finally ready to talk. You had too many words swirling around in your head to be able to stop them from tumbling out of your mouth. “She was really afraid of you. Did you notice that?” You didn’t wait for him to respond. “Really scared. At first, I thought it was so weird. She doesn’t really know you, why would– And then I wondered if maybe she was just afraid of all men. Given her track record– But tonight, during dinner, it clicked. She’s afraid of you because if you got upset about anything, you could take it out on me. That’s what had her terrified. And then I realized, all the advice and the ‘just keep him happy’ and the letting me learn how to cook and how to dance and, and– She thinks she’s protecting me. And she is. I guess. In the only way she knows how. And I want to be grateful for it. I– I do. I am. Maybe. But, god, she still handed me the pen!”

“What pen?” Ransom asked, and you suddenly realized that you weren’t just exorcising your turbulent thoughts into the ether but having a real conversation. With your husband.

You swallowed hard, trying to will yourself to stay in the present instead of hurtling back in time to that awful day that started everything. “When they first showed me the contract for our marriage. When they made me sign it. She’s the one who handed me the pen. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

Ransom didn’t say anything. He didn’t even take his eyes off the road. But he took his right hand off the steering wheel and extended it over the gear shaft to cover both of your hands in your lap. And he maybe didn’t know what to say, but this– It was enough.

A week later, you could tell Ransom was concerned as you walked into the clinic together. You knew why. You’d been quiet all day. Nauseous. Today was the day it could all fall apart.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked as you sat in the waiting room.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said quietly.

That just seemed to worry him more. “Are you sure? Did you eat today?”

“Yes, Ransom, I did,” you lied. “I said I was fine.”

“Is it the baby? They’re healthy, I’m sure. It’s going to be alright.”

You almost laughed in his face. This appointment was not going to be all right. That, you knew for certain. Instead, you just said, “Yes, I know, Ransom,” unable to keep the irritation out of your tone.

He didn’t say anything else, but you could feel him watching you until your name was finally called.

The appointment was going fine. The baby was healthy, a good size. Everything looked the way it was supposed to. You wished you could take comfort in that.

Ransom was staring at the screen of the ultrasound. “Wow,” he said, his voice full of awe and a soft smile on his face. “They’re starting to look like an actual baby.” He looked to you, to share in it, and you found it easier than you expected to smile back. He was so happy. You had to savor it. Especially since you were so scared that he’d no longer be looking at you like that in just a few minutes.

Sooner than you were ready for, Dr. Patel said the words you’d been dreading. “So,” she asked with a grin, “are we learning the sex of the baby today?”

Ransom’s smile got even bigger, eager. “Yea–“

“No!” You interrupted, too loud, too fast. This hadn’t been your plan, but the panic had overtaken you, and you were operating purely on instinct now. “No, we don’t want to find out!”

“What?” Ransom’s shock may have gotten to you if your heartbeat wasn’t so loud in your ears.

“We don’t want to find out,” you repeated, urgently, shaking your head too hard.

He was staring at you. They both were. But you couldn’t do anything about it. You were too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

That got a little easier when your husband finally turned his attention away from you. “Could you give us a minute?”

“Of course,” she said with a tight smile. Then everyone but you and Ransom left the room.

At first, Ransom didn’t say anything. He just held your hand, his thumb sweeping across it in soothing arcs. After a few minutes, his voice impossibly soft, he started a steady tide of comforting murmurs. “Hey, it’s okay, honey. You’re alright. You’re safe. Everything’s okay. Just breathe with me, honey. I’m right here with you. You’re okay.”

You closed your eyes, letting yourself be comforted by it, even if you knew it couldn’t last. After several minutes of that, you’d calmed down enough for him to attempt a real conversation. “I guess we probably should have talked about it first,” he said, keeping that same impossibly soft tone, “but I assumed you’d be excited to find out. I’m really excited to find out.”

At that, you tried to close your eyes even tighter, tears leaking out from the force of it, falling down your cheeks.

His thumb paused, for just a beat, then continued to sweep across your skin. “Honey. Please look at me. It’s okay, I promise. I just want you to look at me.” It took all the strength in you, but after a long moment, you forced your eyes open and finally looked at Ransom. His expression was terribly worried, but he let out a small breath in relief once he could see your eyes. “Okay, can you tell me why that was the wrong thing to say?”

This was the last conversation you wanted to have, but you knew you had no choice, so you powered through as best you could. “You’re excited to find out this baby’s your heir. That’s what you’re excited for.”

“What?” The worry on his face was replaced with sheer confusion. “Honey, I don’t give a shit if this baby’s my heir.”

“Yes, you do,” you countered, voice firm. “You might not know that you do, but you do. All men do, whether you realize it or not.” He opened his mouth to reply, but you kept going before he was able to get any words out. “And I’m not upset with you for that. I’m not. I understand. And I’m not afraid you’ll do something to me if they aren’t the boy you want. I know you won’t. I trust you. I know you’ll even still try to love this baby, but… I just– I just can’t see the disappointment on your face when you find out. I just can’t. I think it will break my heart completely, and I– Maybe it’ll be better if you find out when they’re born. Maybe it’ll be harder to be disappointed when there’s a real baby in your arms instead of just the idea of one. Maybe it won’t. Maybe you’ll still be upset. But I just can’t see your disappointment today. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

Ransom was very quiet for a long time. You didn’t say anything either. You didn’t have anything else to say. You just stared at his hand, still holding yours. Finally, he spoke, his voice surprisingly rough. “You know, there’s a lot I’ve been thinking about lately. A lot of things I’m really worried about. One of the biggest ones is the idea of a little me running around. I was a pretty terrible kid. An awful teenager. A shit twenty-something. I think of a son, and I think of all of the mistakes I’ve ever made. I worry that he won’t be able to escape them. But you know what doesn’t worry me? The thought of a little you. Beautiful. Kind. Funny. Unbelievably brave. That’s who I see when I close my eyes and imagine our child.” He paused, thoughtful, and squeezed your hand. “Either way, the thing I most want for this baby is that they have all the best parts of you and none of the worst parts of me. That’s what’s most important to me. I don’t give a shit about the rest of it.”

You felt another wave of tears fall down your face. Later, maybe you’d be able to tell him all the ways you hoped your child was just like him, all the things of his that you wanted them to inherit, but for now, all you could say was, “You mean it?”

“Yes,” he said, so solemnly, looking you dead in the eyes. “I mean it.”

You took a deep breath. “Okay,” you whispered, not able to get any louder.

“Yeah? Okay? Should we let Dr Patel back in? Are you ready to find out?”

You took another deep breath. And then another. And then you nodded. At least now you would know for sure. Either way.

The doctor and the tech came back in. More gel was squeezed onto your stomach. The baby’s placement was found again. The wand maneuvered around. And then, with a careful smile, a little wary of the news she was about to deliver, Dr. Patel said, “Congratulations. You’re having a girl.”

Your breath stopped again, and your eyes flew to Ransom. He was staring at you. A wide smile on his face. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “It’s okay?” you asked, voice shaking.

“It’s incredible,” he beamed, placing a happy kiss against your forehead. “It’s absolutely incredible.”

Exhaling a breath you felt like you’d been holding for weeks, you finally let yourself let go of some of your worry, just for now, and feel the same joy he felt. You smiled back at him. It was incredible. You were having a girl.

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It took longer than you cared to admit to get back to sleep. Jake's presence was somehow still comforting, yet, your mind was buzzing with a thousand thoughts that wouldn't quiet. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness slowly and you had to remind yourself to breathe normally multiple times as you patiently waited for Jake's snoring to start. It made you smile knowing he snored as both a man and a dog.

The predicament you know found yourself in created more upon more questions that you didn't think Jake was best suited to answer, or even know. Like, for example, was he born a shifter or created? And would it be rude to ask him that in the morning?

You tried not to toss and turn as you struggled to keep your thoughts at bay, eventually succumbing to sleep. But not before you had a mental list of questions to bring to Jake and multiple plans to ensure your safety - just in case.

You forgot all but three questions to ask when you awoke the next morning, and only one contingency plan which so happened to be run away. You also knew that that plan was about as useful as a chocolate mug since Jake looked like he could run faster than you in human form, not just as a dog.

Sighing as you swing your legs out of bed, you can smell a sweet scent in the air. Pancakes.

As you enter the kitchen, Jake was wearing a blanket around his waist and not much else, as he flipped another pancake onto a pile of perfectly golden ones on a plate next to him. You stared at the muscles on his back as he worked before he shot you a smile and said good morning.

You really hoped he hadn't noticed your staring as you took your seat, muttering a bashful good morning of your own before he set the giant stack in front of you.

"Oh, thanks." You pick up the syrup the was waiting for you on the table and drowned your pancakes, before adding a blob of butter. You ignore the tightness in your chest when Jake does the same. "I have a bathrobe upstairs. It's way too big for me if you want to wear that."

"Really?" Jake asks, syrup sliding over his chin. "You wouldn't mind?"

You shake your head. "Not at all."

Not if it stops me from going all goo-goo-eyed.

"Thanks." Jake pauses as he spears one of his pancakes. "How are you feeling? About our... situation?"

"I kinda feel weird about it." You admit taking a bite of a syrupy pancake. "I mean, you were my dog and secretly you were this hot guy all along. It's like that Supernatural episode-"

"But you think I'm hot." Jake interupts and your eyes narrow over at him as your cheeks burn. His head dips and he gives you an apologetic look through his lashes. "Sorry. Continue."

"I keep forgetting that you're not-" You're about to say a dog but instead say, "-that you're a human being. Sorta. Kinda? What-" you shake your head as if physically shaking the question of what are you, actually? away from your tongue. It seemed rude. You sigh at your pancake. "Nevermind."

"It's ok." Jake says with a smile. "I don't really know either."

You manage a meager smile back. "Well, you make really good pancakes."

Jake's smile broadens and he's about to say something when there's a knock at the front door.

"Miss L/N?" A male voice calls out. "It's Officer Jones."

"Uhhh, yeah!" You shout back. "I'll be right-" you go to shoot Jake a look of panic but when you look around he's disappeared. "-there."

You try to act as calm as possible when you answer the door and let the officer in. He's in plain clothes, like the others before and flashes you his police badge from under his jacket. He scans the room as he enters, before he settles on you and you try to look innocent (although you're not sure what you'd be guilty of) whilst your mind races about where Jake disappeared to.

Is he okay? Would he have changed back in time? Where was he?

"You good?" Officer Jones asks, handing you over a small bag of groceries. It was only the weekly must-haves; bread, eggs milk. Survivable things.

"Uh, yeah, um…" You shake your head and smile nervously. "I just… I had some pretty bad nightmares last night and I'm a bit frazzled."

It's not a total lie. You were prone to nightmares.

Officer Jones seems to believe you and nods seriously. "Good news is perimeter looks fine, though so you can put your mind at ease." He gives you a reassuring smile before adding, "Besides, don't you have that dog to protect you?"

"I- yes!" You clap your hands together, hoping Officer Jones didn't notice the look of bafflement at the mention of Jake's dog form. You'd almost forgotten everyone else thought he was just a dog. "I do. Yes."

"Have you come up with a name for him yet?" Officer Jones chuckles. "Back at the precinct everyone tells me you call him Goldie."

"Aha…" You begin awkwardly. "My golden boy."

"That's it!" Jones says, snapping his fingers. "You have to have thought of a better name by now."

"Uh - yeah. It's Jake." You say, immediately feeling stupid.

Who's going to know? Or even guess?

"Jake?" Officer Jones pulls a face. "A human name for a dog?"

You shrug comically. "He acts more human than dog."

More than you'll ever know.

The officer chuckles,"Yeah, my dog is exactly the same."

"Ohhh, what dog do you have?" You ask, inviting him further inside. "I really need some pointers."

Officer Jones closes the door quietly and follows you through to the kitchen, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Well, actually, it's my girlfriend's dog. And she's hardly trained."

He goes onto explain that Muffin is a very happy, very pampered pooch Lassa Lapso who lives in the city centre, and her tricks include sleeping and knowing whether or not the food she is given is high quality, expensive chow.

"Sounds like you've got your hands full." You tease, hurriedly clearing away the two plates that were left out before he notices. "Jake will eat anything."

As if on cue, Jake appears, shiny golden coat reflecting the middle morning sun. He makes a disgruntled sound, obviously catching the last part of your statement, before giving Officer Jones a cautionary sniff.

Officer Jones squats and ruffles Jake's fur. Knowing what you now know about him, you aren't sure if you should find the affectionate cooing Officer Jones makes over your dog-not-dog endearing or downright strange. It makes you wonder if Jake feels uncomfortable by the constant attention - but from his lolling tongue and wagging tail it doesn't seem to.

"He's real handsome." Officer Jones says finally before standing. "It's good you've got something to protect you and keep you company."

"Yeah," you say, subconsciously fussing Jake when he comes to sit next to you. "I'm really lucky I found him."

"Definitely." Officer Jones smiles again - friendliness rolling from him. He was much nicer to deal with than Officer Chuckles. "If there's nothing you want to report, if you haven't noticed anything strange recently or if you're not settling in, I'll just do a quick walk round the perimeter and report back to the precinct?"

"Yeah, sure." You nod. "I've not noticed anything recently - and I'm doing much better with Jake around."

Officer Jones nods. "Alrighty. I'll stay out of your hair and let you know once the ." He flashes a smile down at Jake. "Nice to finally meet you, bud."

Jake does his usual excited happy dance and a short howl that makes you both laugh. Officer Jones buds you both goodbye and begins a quick perimeter search, leaving both you and Jake in the kitchen.

It's extremely strange. The behaviours he now exhibits are no longer cute but entirely human. He doesn't brush up against you for more scritches, but waits patiently next to you for the officer to come back with the all clear. You half expect him to start speaking to you in dog-form any second.

His gold ears move and twitch to sounds you can't hear, nostrils occasionally flaring at the scent of something new. New questions begin to take form in your head and so many more when he turns to look at you quizically with big brown eyes you were sure were blue when he was human.

Today was going to be a long day.

Once officer Jones had given the all clear and the hum of the undercover car became nonexistent, Jake politely toddled upstairs. You sat patiently on the couch, stroking the sides of your warm mug of tea in an effort to soothe your nerves. You didn't know why you felt anxious but you were glad that it was more of an excitable anxiety than terror.

When Jake reappeared, he was human again and donning the bathrobe you mentioned. It seemed to fit him perfectly - even if it was just a tad short on his legs.

"Hey," you smile awkwardly, knowing you're trying so hard to act normal in such an un-normal situation.

"Hey." Jake says and rubs the back of his head, eyes to the floor. Seems he was just as awkward as you.

"So, um," you shrug, attempting nonchalance. And failing miserably. "The whole-" you gesture vaguely to his body. "-shifter thing. Honestly? Not the worst thing in the world."

Jake beams at you, and playfully tugs at the collar of the robe in a proud, mayoral fashion. "That's reassuring to hear. And look, I swear, I wasn't trying to be weird or a creep or-"

You cut him off with a small wave of your hand. You're smiling softly, genuinely, but you can't help that it's bitter. "You were trying to survive. I can't judge you for that."

Jake makes a gentle hum sound - between a thank you and an I'm sorry you went through that - that makes your heart warm. You're glad he doesn't try to apologise or speak further on the matter. You don't want to confront that demon yet.

Your eyes flicker back to his and you're taken by surprise to see that he's squinting down at the book you'd picked off the shelf while waiting for Officer Jones to finish his checks.

"You... ok?" You ask.

"Sorry- erm..." Jake looks sheepish. "I usually have glasses."

"Glasses?" Now that he mentions it, you can't look away from his face trying to imagine him with glasses.

It's a mistake. You remembered him being hot, though you'd been to pre-occupied by the fact your dog was suddenly a man to really appreciate his features. He had a perfectly chiseled nose that you found hard to imagine glasses sitting a top of, pink pouted lips that you knew would melt your heart if he paired them with that puppy-dog look he's mastered and, worse still; his body was lean but muscular - and covered in dark golden hair. He was built like he was pulled from a romance novel.

"Yeah, I usually have them in a safe area so I can see when I shift back." Jake continues, seemingly unaware of your inner-processing.

"Is that why your eyes change colour?"

"You noticed?" Jake blinks at you and you can feel heat rise up your neck as he smiles. "Yeah - dogs eyes are almost always brown. So, I guess as an evolutionary thing I always have brown eyes as a golden since it would look weird if I didn't."

"Makes sense." You nod. "Is your eyesight better when you're a dog?"

"Yeah," Jake shrugs. "Most of my senses are heightened as a human but all are increased as a dog."

"That's-" you catch Jake's look of worry and smile. "-really cool."

"You think so?" He brightens.

"Yeah," You say trying not to laugh - but his energy is infectious. "Is it the same for all shifters?"

"Mostly. Eyesight being the biggest issue - really depends on what you shift into." The more he talks the more animated he becomes, clearly excited by getting to share this information. "Like I knew a guy who shifted into a cat. Man, that was so awkward - I chased him up a tree. His eyesight was fine but he suffered with chronic fatigue."

Jake eyes the spot on the sofa beside you cautiously and on impulse you smack to call him up; immediately recoiling. However, Jake chuckles and plops down ungracefully next to you whilst still maintaining a respectful distance.

You take a sip of your coffee thoughtfully. "Do you know many shifters?"

Jake shakes his head. "It was mainly my family. The community is small and so far as I know many shifters like keeping to themselves."

You hum distantly. "So you didn't really have a big support system for all of these changes?"

Jake blows out a long breath as he thinks of what to say and you watch him carefully. It was nice to be able to have a conversation with someone that wasn't a cop or detective or lawyer. It was nice for your dog to talk back. Still, you didn't know him very well and you should be on your guard... but something about Jake told you you were safe with him. Something about him made you comfortable. Relaxed.

Even when you thought you shouldn't be.

"My mom did her best for me and my sister. She was great." He says finally. "That's all I needed."

You huff a little chuckle, somewhat envious. "I'm glad. And a sister? That's new."

"And a niece." Jake says proudly. "And before you ask, being a shifter is a genetic thing. I don't know how or why - but if you're worried I'll bite you to turn you it doesn't work like that."

"I wasn't," You say playfully. "Until you mentioned it."

Jake looks so terrified for a brief second you can't help but laugh. "I'm kidding! If you wanted to have bitten me, you'd have done so by now."

Jake breathes a sigh of relief and smiles sheepishly. "Sorry."

"It's fine." You wave him off dismissively with a smile. "Look, I could order some glasses online if you know your perscription and if I can get away with ordering an air-bed-"

"I'm happy sleeping on the floor!" Jake interjects. "I was in the special forces. Just gimme a pillow and a blanket and I'll sleep like a baby.

"Absolutely not!" You gasp. Jake only shrugs.

"Or I can sleep on the sofa - so long as I wake up early."

"I can take the sofa." You say defiantly. "And if you're not happy with that then we can take turns."

"Deal." Jake says quickly. "But I'll sleep down here tonight since you didn't get a fullnight's rest last night."

You roll your eyes but your heart skips at his thoughtfulness. "Okay, let's get you some glasses and I'll make a list of some snacks to stock up on."

Part 6 END

A/N: I finished this ages ago but never got around to posting it because i wanted more consecutive parts... I think y'all have waited long enough 🫠😅

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