Mia

“Hi everyone! Welcome to my channel where your brain cells are going to disappear today!” you started while looking at the camera and fixing the frame

“Today I’m here with a duo that needs no introduction. Two boys who know how to kick a football but have no idea how to use a microwave. Jude and Jobe Bellingham! Give them a round of applause woooohoo!”

The camera showed the brothers and Jude gave his iconic big smile while Jobe immediately waved his hand

“Hey excuse me! I can make toast” Jobe complained

“Yeah a burnt toast” Jude added pushing him with his elbow

“Today we’re doing the ‘Blind, Deaf, Mute Challenge” you explained taking out the props

“The rules are simple. One of us can’t see, one can’t hear, and one can’t speak. We have to make… wait for it… pancakes with fruit and whipped cream! If we burn the kitchen down my mum is going to kill us. And now, let’s draw the roles!”

After a short fight over the bowl with the pieces of paper, the roles were chosen

Jude: Blind

Jobe: Deaf

You: Mute

“Why am I blind?!” Jude asked as you tied the blindfold around his eyes. “I have the best eyesight out of all of us! Jobe, tell her!”Jobe just stared straight ahead humPming quietly and completely cut off from the world because of his headphones

“Okay let’s start” you mumbled through the tape which sounded more like “Mmm-mmm-mmm”

Your plan was simple: you knew the recipe so you would guide Jude’s hands, while Jobe would be the muscle.

However reality destroyed that plan in about three seconds.

You grabbed Jude by the shoulders and pushed him towards the counter where the flour was. Jude, walking around blindly started touching the air in front of him like a zombie

“Am I touching flour or someone’s face?” Jude asked as his finger went straight into your nose.

You took his hand and placed it on the bag of flour then you showed Jobe with your hands that you wanted him to give you the bowl.

Jobe looked at you and slowly blinked.

You made a bowl shape with your hands and pretended to pour something into it

“AH!” Jobe shouted as loudly as he could because he couldn’t control his volume with the headphones on. “Do you want me to dance?”

You grabbed your head.

„Jobe, idioto, przestań krzyczeć! Słyszę cię na własne uszy!”. Jude krzyknął w ścianę, bo nie miał pojęcia, gdzie jest Jobe.

In the end you took the bowl yourself and placed it in front of Jude and you put a glass in his hand. Your job was to control how much flour he put in but unfortunately, Jude decided that he knew better.

He swung his hand and instead of putting the flour into the glass he poured half of the bag straight onto the counter and all over your black shirt.

You made an angry sound through the tape “MMMM-MMMM!”

“Ooo I’m sorry shorty. Did something go wrong?” Jude teased trying to hug you with his flour-covered hands.

Jobe finally noticed that you were standing in a cloud of white flour so he decided to help. He grabbed the carton of milk and without warning started pouring it into the bowl from a height of about one meter.

Since Jude was holding the bowl the cold milk splashed all over his hands “what's that- oh you little idiot!” Jude shouted.

You made it clear to him with his hands that he had to crack an egg against the edge of the bowl

“Okay, I can feel it. I’m good at this. Control over the ball, control over the egg” Jude muttered. He hit the egg against the bowl. First too softly then he hit it a second time this time much harder so the egg exploded in his hand. Pieces of shell, yolk and egg white ran down his fingers.

Jobe watched everything from the side and held his stomach because he was laughing so hard.

You stood there with your head down, shaking with laughter and with tears running down your face.

Jude stood there with his hand covered in egg. He still had the blindfold over his eyes and a completely serious expression on his face “I think the consistency is perfect. Let’s fry it”

After another ten minutes of complete chaos you had to physically pull Jude away from the hot pan because he was trying to touch it with his finger to check if it was “working yet”

Finally, the pancake landed on the plate.

It didn’t look like a pancake, it looked like a battlefield. It was thick, a little burnt on one side and very runny on the other.

It was covered with a huge crooked mountain of whipped cream that Jobe had squeezed from half a meter away

You ripped the tape off your mouth hissing in pain “Ow! Okay boys torture is over”

You took the blindfold off Jude while Jobe took off his headphones, breathing heavily from laughing so much. The three of you looked at the work of culinary art on the plate and then at the kitchen, which looked like it had been hit by a flour tornado

“So, what do you think?” Jude asked wiping the rest of the egg from his hands “Does it look like it came from a restaurant?”

“Yes. A restaurant that is about to be closed by the health inspector” you laughed but then you immediately leaned against Jude and pulled Jobe into a hug with your other arm “You two are the worst helpers in the world. But I still love you”

“We love you too, boss” Jobe said kissing the top of your head “And now Jude has to eat it because it’s his fault”

“What?! Why me?!” Jude complained “Jobe poured a ton of milk into it and barely did anything!”

The camera kept recording as all three of you covered in flour, milk and whipped cream started arguing about who had to clean the kitchen finally ending with a group photo on Instagram

───

The camera was once again standing steadily on the tripod.

The kitchen in the background was sparkling clean, although there was still a small piece of batter stuck to the ceiling lamp.

The three of you were sitting next to each other at the table. Jude had already showered, Jobe had changed his shirt and you were wearing a simple short top.

In front of you was the same unfortunate, crooked pancake “Okay everyone” you started while looking straight into the camera “The kitchen survived, we survived, although the Bellingham family relationship was seriously tested. Now! it’s time for the final taste test. So... who is brave enough to try it first?”

You and Jobe immediately pointed at Jude

“Why is it always me?!” Jude complained holding his head “I was blind! I’m the victim here!”

“You were the chef, so take the fork and stop complaining” Jobe laughed pushing him with his shoulder.

Jude sighed dramatically and looked into the camera with the face of a suffering hero. He cut a piece of pancake and put a huge amount of whipped cream on it to hide any possible burnt taste then he put it in his mouth

You and Jobe froze staring at him while Jude slowly chewed. At first, his face showed nothing then he narrowed his eyes

Finally a look of real shock appeared on his face “Wait…” Jude said swallowing. “This is… actually good?”

“Don’t lie for views Jude” you laughed

“I swear!” Jude said excitedly. He cut another piece and put it straight into Jobe’s mouth

“Jobe, try it!”Jobe chewed and his eyes widened

Suddenly, both brothers started attacking the plate like they hadn’t eaten in a week “Oh, bro, it tastes like a waffle, just… very flat” Jobe said with his mouth full

“Because you two put a ton of baking powder in it, idiots!” you laughed shaking your head

“Okay, leave some for me!” You squeezed yourself between them

Jude immediately put his arm around you almost choking you with the hug, while trying to feed you the last piece while Jobe started making stupid faces at the camera and gave it a thumbs-up

“That was the most chaotic video in the history of this channel” you said to the camera while Jude shamelessly licked the last bits of whipped cream from the plate

“If you want to see these two trying to build IKEA furniture without instructions, give this video a like and subscribe!”

“And comment that Jobe can’t cook!” Jude shouted

“Shut up, Jude!” Jobe shouted back

“See you in the next video bye!” all three of you shouted, waving at the camera.

©loudmissy this story is my original writing. Please do not copy, translate or claim it as your own without my permission. Thank you for respecting my work ♡

"Auntie Bex!" Noah chirped, his eyes instantly locking onto the massive box. "Is that a spaceship?"

"Better," she whispered loudly, casting a pointed, competitive glare at her brothers who were lounging nearby. "It's a vintage, hand-painted toy train set imported straight from Paris. But don't tell your uncles—they think their gifts are superior."

"Oh, please, sister," Kol scoffed, leaning casually against a pillar with a smirk playing on his lips. Davina was right beside him, holding his hand but already looking exasperated. Kol held a beautifully wrapped, suspiciously heavy box. "The boy is a Mikaelson. He doesn't want trains. He wants adventure. He wants to stir up trouble! Happy birthday, mate!"

Kol dropped to one knee, handing Noah the heavy box. You walked out from the kitchen just in time to see Noah enthusiastically tear through the paper, revealing a beautifully carved, miniature wooden sword and a matching shield. The wood shimmired with a soft, purple-ish glow.

"Kol," you said, your voice dripping with warning as you crossed your arms. "Tell me that isn't what I think it is."

"It’s a replica, Y/N! Totally blunt!" Kol defended defensively, though he winked at Noah. "And Davina put a very minor, completely harmless protection enchantment on it. If he hits a wall, the wall breaks, not his hand. See? Practical!"

"He is four, Kol! He cracked the living room drywall last week with a plastic spoon!" you groaned, rubbing your temples.

Klaus descended the grand staircase, a proud, soft smile resting on his lips—a look he reserved almost exclusively for you and his son. "While I admire the boy's warrior spirit, brother, his mother is right. No enchanted weaponry until he’s at least five. Hand it over."

"You're a killjoy, Nik," Kol grumbled, though he handed the toy to Davina for safekeeping.

Elijah stepped forward next, the absolute epitome of elegance in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. He knelt down with impeccable posture, handing Noah a small, heavy velvet box. "A true gentleman always knows the value of time, young man. Happy birthday."

Noah opened it to find a beautifully restored, antique pocket watch, intricately engraved with his initials and a tiny crest.

"Wow," Noah whispered, completely fascinated by the ticking gears. He looked up and offered Elijah a grand, incredibly formal hug. "Thank you, Uncle Elijah."

Elijah’s stoic, dignified expression instantly melted into pure, unadulterated fondness, his hand resting gently on Noah's curls. "You are very welcome, Noah."

Freya and Keelin followed, presenting him with a magical night-light Freya had crafted. "It projects moving constellations onto the ceiling," Freya explained, smiling warmly at you. "And it carries a soothing spell to keep away any... bad dreams."

"Or monsters in the closet," Keelin added with a laugh.

"Considering who his uncles are, monsters in the closet should be terrified of him," you joked, teasingly nudging Klaus's side. Klaus simply laughed, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist and pulling you against him, planting a soft kiss on your temple.

"Alright, everyone," you laughed, clapping your hands to gather the chaotic family. "It’s time for cake!"

The grand table in the center of the courtyard held a massive, three-tiered chocolate cake. You crouched down to Noah’s height, adjusting his party hat, while Klaus stepped up right beside him, placing a large, protective hand on Noah’s small shoulder. The family gathered around, their voices blending into a loud, surprisingly harmonious rendition of "Happy Birthday."

As the song ended, the single candle flickered brightly.

"Alright, my love," you whispered softly against Noah's cheek. "Make a wish and blow out the candle."

Noah nodded very seriously. He joined his little hands together, squeezed his eyes shut in deep concentration for a long three seconds, and then leaned forward to blow out the candle. The courtyard erupted into cheers and applause.

"So, what did you wish for, buddy?" Kol asked, leaning over the table with a grin. "A real dragon? A lifetime supply of sugar?"

Noah looked up, his eyes wide and completely innocent. "I wished for a baby sister!"

The entire courtyard went dead silent. It was a silence so sudden and absolute you could hear the distant traffic of Bourbon Street.

Elijah, who had just taken a graceful sip of his vintage champagne, choked violently. He hacked into a silk handkerchief, his eyes wide as he tried to regain his composure. Kol burst into a fit of sudden, delighted, roaring laughter, slapping his knee. Davina buried her face in her hands, giggling, while Freya and Keelin exchanged highly amused glances.

You froze entirely. Your eyes widened in sheer, unmitigated shock. Slowly, almost mechanically, you turned your head to look at your husband.

Klaus, on the other hand, went from stunned surprise to an incredibly smug, wildly delighted, arrogant smirk in a fraction of a second. His chest practically puffed out with pride.

Before you could say a single word, Klaus scooped Noah up into his arms, tossing him into the air slightly before catching him and pressing a deep kiss to his forehead. "A baby sister? Well, my brilliant boy, I promise you that you will get one very soon."

You whipped your head toward Klaus, drilling a terrifying, silent, freezing death stare straight into his soul. If looks could dagger an Original hybrid, Klaus would have been reduced to ash right then and there.

"Klaus," you said, your voice dangerously low, a sweet yet menacing smile plastered on your face. "We are going to have a very long, very detailed conversation about making promises you can't keep."

"Oh, I intend to keep it, love," Klaus purred, completely unfazed by your terrifying aura, his eyes dancing with wicked amusement.

Sensing the impending marital warfare and the very real possibility of the courtyard being destroyed, Rebekah quickly stepped in, loudly clapping her hands and suppressing her laughter. "Right! Wonderful wish! Let's cut the cake before your mother commits a historic murder on your birthday, Noah. Elijah, stop choking, you're an Original, act like it."

Hours later, the storm had finally passed. It had taken an ungodly amount of patience, but you had finally tucked a completely exhausted, sugar-crashing Noah into bed. He was fast asleep, clutching his new toy train in one hand and his wooden sword in the other.

The rest of the Mikaelsons had retreated to their respective wings of the mansion, leaving the Compound blissfully quiet.

You walked into your bedroom, letting out a long, dramatic sigh of relief. You kicked off your heels with a groan and began unzipping the back of your dress, eager to change into an oversized t-shirt and just melt into the mattress.

Suddenly, a pair of strong, familiar arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Klaus pulled your back flush against his chest, his body heat immediately enveloping you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips pressing soft, lingering, warm kisses along your collarbone that made an involuntary shiver run down your spine.

"A baby sister, love," Klaus murmured against your skin, his voice a low, raspy, seductive purr that usually turned your brain to mush. "The boy knows exactly what this family needs. He's a visionary. We shouldn't keep him waiting. In fact, I think we should start working on his wish right now."

You smirked, a brilliant idea forming in your head. You turned around in his embrace, placing your hands flat against his chest, pushing him back just an inch. You schooled your expression into your best, most serious, devastated poker face.

You let out a heavy, weary sigh. "Absolutely not, Klaus."

Klaus paused. His confident smirk faltered, his eyebrows furrowing in genuine confusion. "What? Why ever not?"

"Klaus, Noah is four. Do you know what that means?" You stepped back out of his arms, pacing around the room and throwing your hands up dramatically. "He is finally sleeping through the night consistently. I have finally regained a semblance of my sanity. Do you actually remember the newborn phase?"

"Of course I do—"

"No, you don't!" you interrupted, point-blank ragebaiting him. "You’re a vampire, you don’t get tired the way I do! The endless crying? The absolute mountain of diapers? The spit-up on every single piece of clothing I own? Klaus, I love our son, but another hybrid baby right now? I don't think my mental stability can survive it. Let's just face facts—Noah is going to be an only child. We are done. The shop is closed."

Klaus stared at you, genuine, utter panic flashing in his brilliant blue-green eyes. The fearsome, ruthless Great Evil of New Orleans, the hybrid king who struck terror into the hearts of witches and vampires worldwide, looked completely defeated and desperate.

"But... but sweetheart," Klaus stammered, stepping forward, his hands reaching out tentatively. "A sister for Noah. A little girl. Think of how perfect she would be. A little princess. I can handle the night shifts! I don't sleep anyway! I'll do every single diaper change, I swear it to you on my life. I'll compel a army of nannies if I have to! You won't have to lift a finger, love, please—"

Seeing him genuinely rambling, completely panicked, and thoroughly stressed out by your speech, you couldn't hold it in for another second. A massive, triumphant grin broke across your face, and you burst into a fit of laughter.

Klaus stopped dead in his tracks, blinking blankly at you. "You're... you're laughing."

"You should see your face," you gasped, wiping a tear of laughter from your eye. "The great Klaus Mikaelson, brought to his knees by the prospect of diaper duty."

Klaus’s eyes narrowed as he realized he had been thoroughly played. A slow, dangerous, incredibly attractive smile spread across his lips. "You were torturing me on purpose."

"Maybe a little," you teased, stepping back into his space and boldly wrapping your arms around his neck, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "But... I suppose a promise is a promise. And a Mikaelson always pays his debts, right? We can't break a promise to our son."

Klaus’s panic instantly vanished, replaced by a wicked, burning, triumphant grin. He gripped your waist, pulling you tightly against him. "You are utterly wicked, love. A true menace."

"I learned from the best," you whispered against his lips.

Klaus didn't waste another syllable, lifting you easily as his lips crashed onto yours, definitively starting the very thorough, very enthusiastic process of granting Noah's birthday wish.

-end

The closest you ever gotten to her is right now, holding on for dear life to Elijah's leg. You don't like being around people you aren't familiar with. Which I weird that you're feeling like that with Hayley, Elijah has been noticing, since you technically have met her before in Mystic Falls. But you guys did just move back to New Orleans and it's a bigger change for you considering you like being in Mystic Falls, that's sometimes hard to believe truthfully for him. Then again you don't have some horrendous memories of the place like the others do.

You look at what she's wearing and your eyes land on her hands. On her fingers, there are a couple rings in various shapes and some have a colorful stone on them.

Elijah is talking with Niky. It sounds like he's mad with him. Though that's not really concerning to you considering he and Elijah get into fights all the time, so you're used to it. The same with when Niky and Bekah also get into fights.

As they continue to squabble, you carefully start letting go of your big brother's leg and start to make your way over to Hayley. You move slowly, not wanting to accidently trip like you do sometimes when you're nervous or excited.

Hayley looks down and sees you standing a couple feet away the end of the couch supporting your small basically toddler frame. She smiles softly, she took a liking to you during her time in Mystic Falls. Even though she despised, and still kinda does, Klaus, she likes how he acts all soft and protective of you.

She's noticed you're basically always with either Elijah or Klaus. Whether that be them carrying you, holding your hand, you attached to their legs or just being in the same room.

"Hi there" She speaks to you first, her tone soft.

You look up at her with big eyes and take a small step towards her, still holding onto the couch cushions on the way. You lift your other tiny hand up to give her a small wave.

It takes you a moment to climb up on the couch and sit down on your knees, facing her.

She has to admit, You're pretty cute.

You look up at her face and then down at her hands, repeating that a couple more times. Your sight finally lands on her hands. The rings shine under the light.

She realizes it's her rings you're looking at, so she moves her hand and places it in front of you, right above your knees. "You like my rings?" She asks you quietly.

You wrap your tiny hands around her hand and start tracing the ring with a butterfly on it. It takes you a moment to reply, but quietly you finally say something, "Pretty." You mumbled before looking back up at her, your hands still clutched to hers.

"It is, isn't it?" She smiles.

Rebekah walks into the house from being out all day. She rolls her eyes at the two arguing. Instead, she made her way to the both of you.

"Well, I think it's time for a certain someone to get ready for bed," She tells you after reading the clock that's sitting on the mantel.

You frown before complying and climb off the couch. You reach up and grab your big sister's outstretched hand. As you guys start walking toward the stairs, you look back and wave a 'bye' to Hayley.

Over the next few months, you start spending more time with Hayley. You got attached to her quickly. She revealed to you about being pregnant with Klaus' child, earning an excited reaction from you, and getting a smile out of herself as well.

It seems as if you're spending more time with Hayley than your brothers. As Rebekah has teased your guys' brothers about.

Klaus sits with you on your bed, trying to get you to sleep. Which isn't working in his favor. When you want to be, you can be more stubborn than Rebekah, and that's saying something.

"It's past your bedtime" He whispers. He's not exactly trying that hard anyway, but you usually listen to him.

"Bad sleep" You frown up at him. "No, not bad sleep, you need sleep, or else you'll be grumpy in the morning," He says, leaving out the point on how Elijah will have his head if he lets you stay up way too late again.

"So let's lay back down, curl up, and go to sleep," He tells you softly, handing you your stuffed yellow teddy bear.

You slowly follow his wording and snuggle your teddy bear as he tucks you in. Your brother places a kiss on your head before turning the lamp off and slowly leaves the room.

After laying in your bed for ten minutes, unable to fall asleep, you sit back up and shuffle out of your bed.

You quietly walk out into the hallway until you find yourself in what used to be Kol's room and now is Hayley's. You patter in and Hayley looks up from her book to see you standing a couple feet away with your teddy bear clutched in your hand.

"Hey sweetie, aren't you supposed to be in bed" She asked you, already knowing the answer. "uh-uh" You shake your head and walk over to the bed and climb up with Hayley helping you.

"Whatever you say, hun" She chuckles.

You crawl closer to her. She lifts her right arm up, having you cuddle into her side. You move down a bit to rest your head on her pregnancy bump. You giggle from the feeling of magic coming from the baby. You're the only one who seems to be able to feel any of it.

You hug your teddy with one arm while your other hand is tracing shapes on Hayley's bump, tiredly. Not even ten minutes later, you're out like a light.

Klaus searches around the house, trying to find you. He hasn't seen you all morning. While he searches, Elijah stands up from where he's sat. "What's wrong?"

"I can't seem to find our baby sister anywhere" Klaus answers before leaving the room, obvious that you're not in here. Elijah follows after him.

"Have you checked Hayley's room?" Elijah asks him. That makes him pause before going up the stairs to where the bedrooms are.

He opens the door to the pregnant werewolf's room and walks in. What he sees makes him breathe a sigh of relief. Showing in front of them, Hayley and you are sound asleep, you cuddled into her arms with your bear still in your grasp.

"What are you two doing? There are more than enough reasons as to why not to wake up one of them, let alone both of them" Rebekah whisper at them, pulling the two men out of the bedroom and closing the door.

Elijah and Hayley immediately go into panic mode. "Absolutely not, you're sixteen. You're way too young to have a kid or even think about it, " your dad says sternly.

"What? Why?! They're so cute." You attempt to plead with them. Kol bursts out laughing, no longer able to hold it in. And of course what he says doesn't help matters in the slightest. "Yeah, why can't the baby werewitch have a kid. It would be spectacular entertainment." You grumble at the nickname he insists calling you before turning back with pleading puppy eyes to your parents.

Hayley bites her lip at the cute face youre making. Though it doesn't last long until Elijah notices and cuts that out right away. "Hayley, you are aware she is sixteen. Much to young to have a kid. There is no exception to you bearing a kid, Y/n. Not until you're at least thirty." He says, making Rebekah scoff.

"Thirty? Oh, brother, you're clearly living in another world. I mean, look what happened when you banned me from men in the past millenia." She crosses her legs and leans back further into the couch. Her seated position showed off her expensive heels.

Your eyebrows scrunch together. "What does men have to do with any of this?" You ask confused and a little disgusted. You're not exactly a fan of the male species. Even if your Aunt Rebekah says all in a matter of them ever since you were old enough to project your distaste of that gender as a whole.

"What do men have to do with this?" Klaus raises a brow, repeating your question. "Brother, little wolf, surely you have given her the knowledge of at least what it takes to create a child," klaus says, a grin appearing on his face.

"Why would they have knowledge about it?" You look between your uncle and parents. "Did you have a farm or something?" You ask.

"What does a farm have to do with this?" Your mother ask. Everyone is confused as of now, not just concerned. "Cause that's where kids come from? I thought you'd at least know, you're the smart one." You turn to your dad.

Kol snorts out yet another laugh, but downcasts his eyes when Elijah's gaze befalls him. "Are we talking of the same thing? You say kid, but you are implying it comes from a farm. And your mother has had the...discussion with you" Elijah looks to Hayley, who nods in answer.

"What does that gross conversation have to do with me getting a baby goat?" You ask, disgusted with what they and apparently everyone else is implying.

"A...A baby goat? That's what you meant" Rebekah is the one to break the silence. You look over to your aunt and nod your head enthusiastically. "Yeah, they're so tiny and cute and I want one really bad."

"Oh, thank god." Your mom almost weeps in relief, your dad not far behind her. "What did you think I meant?!" You ask bewildered.

"That's you wanted a real kid. A human baby." Elijah says with a scowl. "Ew, gross. Never. Babies and men are disgusting." You show your detest for this topic in your facial expression.

"Why would I ever want a human baby?! I'm not even an adult." Your face continues to twist in disgust. "Just the way you phrased it and neglected to mention you meant a goat in the beginning, baby werewitch." Klaus says, standing and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Now, why dont we go find you a baby goat while your mother and father unthaw from their frozen relief stance, hm?" He says with a smirk.

"Yes!" You exclaim. Before Elijah or Hayley, or anyone else could say anything, your uncle vamped you both away in search of baby goats.

And let's just say your parents were less than pleased when you came back with a three pound tiny baby goat that likes to make a lot of sound. The upside though is the baby goat tends to keep you from getting yourself into trouble in the quarter. Of course unless Kol is the culprit- no matter how much they yell at him.

The baby goat in question:

Such a cutie pie!

He keeps your hand and lifts it, guiding you into a slow turn under his finger, his eyes moving over you, taking in the outfit you put on for him.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, softer now. “That’s my girl.”

You tug him further into the house, a breathy laugh slipping out of you when he follows without hesitation, letting you lead him like he wasn’t already planning to.

The door shuts behind him with a quiet click. His hands settle at your waist, pulling you closer. His nose brushes along your neck, lips ghosting against you, kissing wherever they land with a soft press.

“Fuck me… that the perfume I got you, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice vibrating against your skin as he breathes it in.

You tilt your head back with a smile, giving him more access, a soft confirmation slipping from your lips.

“Knew it,” he hums, pleased with himself.

Your sundress shifts as you press your chest to his, skimming higher on the back of your thighs. He smiles into your skin as he takes advantage of it—his rough hands sliding to grip your ass, lifting you off your feet. You let out a surprised laugh, arms coming up around his shoulders, guiding him closer.

“Miss me?” He murmurs against your neck, not waiting for an answer.

“Maybe,” you tease, breath catching when he bites down lightly.

“Yeah?” He huffs, amused, tightening his grip just enough. “Couldn’t tell.”

“Did you have fun?” You ask, moving close enough that your mouth brushes his when you speak.

“Sure,” he answers with the dry wit of a man who would rather be where he is right now. Then he’s right back on you, his mouth dragging from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck.

“Rafe,” you giggle softly, fingers sliding into his hair, tugging just enough that he groans for more.

“I did,” he adds, quieter, his voice already a little breathless. “Until you told me to come over… didn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

“Sorry, baby.”

“Sure,” he echoes with the same bite. “Started playin’ like shit,” he mutters, the words half lost against your lips. “Couldn’t focus. Kept thinkin’ about you.”

“I should’ve waited.”

“Stop,” he chuckles, like that’s even an option. “Still beat ’em.”

“Of course you did.”

“Stop feedin’ my ego,” he mutters. “Got you in my arms… don’t need help.”

“Please,” you breathe, cheeks burning from the compliment, smiling as Rafe’s lips drag along your neck, sucking at the soft skin, his teeth sinking in with that playful possessiveness you love.

“Made some cash,” he adds. “Gonna take you out later.”

“Yeah?”

“That place you like. Drinks, dinner… we’ll get that dessert you like.” His mouth drags back up your throat. “Do this again after.”

Your back hits the bed with a bounce, and he follows you down a second later, settling onto his knees.

Your fingers drift to the hem of your dress, lifting it slowly, a quiet laugh slipping out of him when you do something he likes.

“Atta girl,” he mutters under his breath.

His hat is gone the next second, flicked off without a thought, his shirt following right after—pulled over his head and tossed aside.

He runs his hands through his hair, pushing it back, and you don’t even try to hide the way you’re looking at him.

“You’re staring,” he points out, a little amused, like he wants you to.

Your hands slide over his chest slowly, feeling the heat of his skin, the way his muscles flex under your touch.

“Can you blame me?” You murmur.

The sound of his belt loosening cuts in, and he lets out a quiet breath, snapping it through the loops. His hands come down to your thighs, warm and steady as he presses them into the bed, pinning you beneath him.

“Look at you,” he says as his thumb drags along the crease between your skin and your panties.

He leans over you without breaking eye contact, one hand braced beside your head as he dips down, catching your lips again.

“All dressed up for me…” He murmurs quietly.

You let out a soft sigh against his mouth, your hands coming up to his shoulders, feeling the tension there.

His mouth drags lower, from your neck down to your chest, before he lifts the lace cups of your bra just enough to knead your flesh, his mouth sucking down on the other while his body grinds into the mattress, keeping pace with each swirl of his tongue.

He releases your nipple with a pop, kissing down your stomach, his breathing hot against your skin, heat building with each touch.

Your fingers slide into his hair, raking through his bangs, guiding him lower until his mouth reaches your hip. He pauses there, lips brushing, goosebumps spreading across your skin.

His grip firms, thumbs pressing into your skin as he leans in closer, his breath warm where it hits, his gaze still locked on yours.

“Rafe, please.”

“Yeah… yeah,” he murmurs teasingly, his voice rougher now. “Fuckin’ desperate, huh? I can tell.”

His hands adjust on you, keeping you right where he wants you as he leans in again, slower this time, more deliberate.

“Easy… Stay put,” he mutters, low and steady, thumbing over your clothed clit, making your hips buck, your lip caught between your teeth as you try to stay still. “You don’t think I know what my girl wants?”

His hand leaves your thigh for a second, sliding up your body, big and warm as it catches the fabric of your dress and pushes it higher.

“Show off, baby. C’mon now,” he murmurs like he’s starving for it, watching from between your thighs as you lift your bra completely. “So fucking beautiful. Oh my god,” he moans against you, making your back arch.

His tongue retraces the same path, gliding up your inner thigh along the lace, licking just beneath it before he catches the fabric between his teeth, tugging your panties to the side.

You shiver as your wetness hits the breeze of the ceiling fan above, your thighs drawing in, squeezing his broad shoulders between them. Looking up into his blue eyes, you spread your legs—Rafe kissing your clit like a thank you, groaning into you before he drags a line up your slit.

“Fuckin’ soaked,” he murmurs, more to himself than you. “Didn’t even make me work for it.”

His arms slide under your thighs, biceps flexing as he pulls you closer, diving in. Your fingers tug at his hair again, your other hand twisting in the sheets, gasping as his finger presses into your entrance, your body tightening around it as it curls and thrusts.

He leans into it, his mouth just far enough away that you’re left reaching and trembling—too much pleasure building to move, to let it fade. His chuckle is low, close enough to make your head spin.

“Yeah?” He huffs.

Your head falls back as it keeps building, so close to the edge you can feel yourself about to break.

“Eyes on me, baby. C’mon,” he murmurs against your sex.

You lift your head again, eyes locked, lips parted. “Fuck, Rafe. I’m gonna cum.”

“That so?” He asks.

You nod immediately, heavy-eyed as you fight to keep them open. “Yes. Yes—” Your body jolts at the loss, a sharp breath punching out of your chest as your hips stutter.

“Yes. Yes. Oh fuck, Rafe,” he mocks, mimicking your breathless tone—just nasal enough to make it sting, his eyes rolling away in annoyance.

“Baby?” You breathe, half disbelief, half frustration hitting all at once. “What—what the hell? Fuck!” The word breaks from your lips as his hand comes down sharp, slapping your pussy, making your eyes well with tears from the shock alone.

His head tilts as he looks back at you, pouting his lip to match yours.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice comes out pathetically small.

“Wrong?” He asks, like the word doesn’t make sense to him. “Nothing’s wrong.” His eyes drop to where his hand is, watching the way you react—how you still follow his touch.

“What,” he adds, crueler now. “You were countin’ on something?” Your stomach twists at the tone, the pleasure that had been building, gone now. “Or someone?”

“I—yeah?”

He hums, playing with you shamelessly, fingers slipping through the wet mess he made.

“U n r e l i a b l e…” He breathes, like he’s thinking out loud more than talking to you, drawing every letter of the word over your clit with his rough finger.

“I don’t know what—what’s going on?” Your words clip off in a gasp as he thrusts his digits in and out, in and out, then stopping—leaving you rocking your pussy into his palm, chasing something he still isn’t giving you.

“Y’know what pissed me off the most?” He asks, his eyes dragging over you slowly, his fingers still moving like he’s still deciding your fate. “It’s not even that you said it… it’s that somebody out there might’ve believed you.”

“Believe what?” You whisper.

His hand slows again—not stopping, just playing, keeping you waiting—just enough to pull you back before you can settle into the feeling of it.

“You tell me,” he says, glancing up at you like the issue’s obvious. But it’s not.

He lets out a low, sharp laugh under his breath, shaking his head in frustration. “You even know what ‘no’ means?” He asks.

You blink up at him, confused, your brows pulling together as your lips part to answer, but nothing really comes out.

He watches that happen in real time, something in his expression shifting when you don’t have an answer.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “Didn’t think so.”

“Just tell me, Rafe…”

He exhales through his nose, leaning in closer.

“You know how embarrassing that was today?” He says, quieter this time, like he’s replaying it in his head. “My boys saw that TikTok shit and thought I don’t take care of my girl.”

He looks you over as he says it, slow and pointed, like he’s making sure you feel the ridiculousness of those words.

“Me?” He adds, a disbelieving edge slipping in. “You fuckin’ kidding me?”

“Rafe, I can explain—”

“I mean, look at you, huh?” He murmurs, lifting his fingers, sucking off the wet. “You’re a mess.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say breathlessly, still a little unsure. He just scoffs, muttering your words under his breath. “I was just trying to be funny,” you whimper, soft and a little desperate.

“Funny,” he repeats, his hand resting on the bed beside your head as he lowers himself closer.

“It was silly,” you whisper.

“Tryin’ to be relatable, huh?” He asks, his thumb pressing against your clit, rolling slow. Your brows pull together as he keeps you right on the edge. “Had people lookin’ at you different today,” he mutters. “That’s not how this works with me.”

“I know, baby. I—”

“You really thought I was gonna laugh that shit off?” He laughs, dark and demeaning. “C’mon, baby. You know me better than that… I don’t do halfway,” he mutters. “Not with you. Never have.”

Your eyes roll back in your head, the pressure building between your thighs, your heart racing in your chest.

“I don’t want any girl lookin’ at you,” he says, quieter now, “and thinkin’ they’ve got a man who takes care of them like I take care of you. I don’t want them to think you’re relatin’ to that bullshit, understand?” He asks, slowing his hand just enough to keep you right there—a fat tear rolling warm and heavy down your cheek, landing on your silk pillow.

“You mean so much more to me than that,” you whimper.

“Yeah?” He asks, dipping in to kiss your lips. “Sayin’ you couldn’t rely on me… like I’m not gonna have you like this ten minutes after I walk through the fuckin’ door if I wanted to. Lucky for you I still do—”

“Please,” you whimper as your thighs shake uncontrollably.

He leans in closer, his forehead brushing yours for a second, his tone steady when he speaks again. “Delete that,” he says quietly. “Then we’ll talk.”

“Oh—okay, of course,” the words stutter out of you in a rush, breathless and weak, your hand patting blindly against the bed until you find your phone, fingers fumbling as you lift it between you.

The device trembles in your hand, hitting every button but TikTok, struggling to get from your fyp to your main page. A sharp huff of a laugh leaves him as his eyes drop to your hand, then back to your eyes, something dark and amused flickering there.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, watching you struggle with a simple task. “Who’s got you shakin’ like that, huh?”

“It’s gone,” you say quickly, completely breathless, almost dropping it as you flip it around to show him. “See? I deleted it.”

He takes the phone from your hand, glances at it for half a second, then drops it back onto the mattress, his attention already back on you.

“No more bullshit. You understand me?”

“I’m sorry, baby,” you whisper, nodding immediately as your vision goes hazy, blinking the tears from your eyes as you look up at him.

“Don’t do that shit again.”

“I won’t,” you say quickly. “I promise.”

“You’re a fucking brat sometimes,” he mutters, the tempo of his hand speeding up as your orgasm comes within reach. “My brat.”

“You’re so good to me… I’m sorry.”

His thumb brushes your jaw, tilting your face back toward him. “Better,” he says, almost amused. “See? You learn fast.”

Your eyes pinch shut, your back arching off the mattress, hands wrapping around his body, digging into the broad planes of his back as your body releases.

Your pussy flutters around his fingers as he pounds his hand into you, palm slapping against your clit again and again, until you’re pushing him away from the overstimulation—but he’s having none of that, lowering himself between your thighs to work you with his tongue as well.

He circles your clit, groaning against your heat with each breath of praise that slips from your lips.

“You’re gonna make it up to me,” he breathes against your pussy, spreading your lips apart, your panties stretched at the seams from being yanked. “I’m gonna take care of you like I always fucking do. You’re gonna be screaming my name over and over… I promise you that. You can see how reliable I am then.”

“You always take care of me,” you whisper, pulling down your panties, tearing your dress over your head. He shoves his pants down his thighs, quickly pressing your thigh to your chest, tapping his tip against your pussy.

He traces lower, lips parting when he feels you start to stretch around him.

“C’mon, baby… remind me. Who takes care of you.”

“Rafe Cameron,” his name falls from your lips in a moan, his lips swallowing the sound as he presses his body tight to yours.

“Always me.”

dividers @pixopix