Chapter 49 Mitchell
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Mitchell
There’s something about the quiet of the shop at dusk.
The low hum of the tattoo machines, the sharp tang of ink, disinfectant, and the deep, soothing scent of cedar oil filling the air. It's familiar. Comfortable. My place. The place where everything is sharp and clean, where I can keep things controlled.
Except tonight.
Tonight, everything’s a mess.
Freddie and Timothy are talking.
Or, more, Freddie’s bouncing ideas off Timothy, and Timothy’s just sitting there, chewing on his sandwich casually. The fact that I’m standing here, staring at the wood we’ve been carving for the past few hours, isn’t about to change everything.
I can feel the weight of it. The pressure of what we’re doing. The plan we’ve spent weeks building. My fingers ache from holding the carving tools, and my mind keeps wandering back to Ivy. I keep hearing her voice. Seeing the way she handles everything. All by herself.
Well, not anymore.
I smile at the words I’m carving, excited for Ivy’s reaction.
I want her to feel it. I want her to see that it’s not just about the words on those signs, or the house we’re going to buy for all of us. It’s about her. It’s always been about her.
I glance over at the signs, now leaning against the wall of the shop. Each one perfect in its own way.
The first one, Freddie’s careful writing: We choose you. Every day. No matter what.
The second one, mine. Clean, block letters, sharp lines: Stay with us. Build this life, with all its mess and beauty.
And the third, Timothy’s elegant carving: Home isn’t a place. It’s you.
It’s a fucking lot to put out there. Too much, maybe. But we’re all in. Every single one of us. And if she’s not? If this is too much for her, too fast, then that’s her choice. I can’t make it for her.
“Mitchell?”
I look up, and there’s Freddie, his face split by that damn smile of his. “You good?”
I grunt in response. “Just thinking.”
“About Ivy?”
I don’t even need to answer. The tension in my shoulders gives me away, but Freddie seems to get it anyway.
“We’re ready, man,” he says, a little quieter now. “I think she’s ready.”
I don’t know if she’s ready. But we’re about to find out.
This isn’t just about us throwing her into something new, it’s about giving her the space to make the decision. Giving her the option to take that leap with us. She doesn’t have to, but we’re making sure she knows we want it.
Timothy looks up from his sandwich and raises an eyebrow. “You nervous?”
“Nah,” I lie.
Freddie laughs. “Sure you are. You’ve been quiet all day. And, you know, you’re usually a little… louder.”
“Yeah, well,” I grunt, my hand tightening around the carving tool. “This is a little bigger than the usual shit we deal with.”
“It’s just a proposal,” Timothy says, his voice a little too calm, as if he’s not seeing the gravity of what’s hanging in the air. “You know, asking her to stay. Asking her to build something with us.”
I glance at him. “This isn’t just a proposal, Tim. This is everything. This is us. I want her to feel like she’s walking into something real. Not just us throwing it out there like it’s some random idea.”
Freddie watches me for a long moment, then his grin softens. “You’re overthinking it. You know she’s been with us through this, right? All three of us. She sees it. Hell, she probably feels it too.”
I nod, but the knot in my stomach doesn’t loosen. I can’t stop the thoughts running through my head. What if it’s too much for her? What if we’re asking her to take on more than she’s ready for?
“What do you think she’s gonna say?” Freddie asks, more serious now.
I pause, my fingers running over the wood grain of the sign I’ve been carving. “I don’t know. She might say no. She might say yes. I think... I think she’ll say yes. But I don’t know, man.”
“Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
The sound of the door opening interrupts the moment, and I feel my chest tighten in anticipation.
I don’t need to look up to know it’s her.
I can feel her presence the second she steps into the shop.
She always has that effect on me. Her steps are slow, measured, trying to understand what she’s walking into.
Man, it reminds me of the first time she walked through those doors, late at night, wanting a tattoo of an ex’s name removed.
If only I knew then what this would all become.
“Mitchell?” Her voice is hesitant, uncertain.
I turn toward her, my heart thudding in my chest. She’s standing in the doorway, looking at the signs, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“What’s all this?” she asks, her eyes flicking between the three of us.
Freddie steps forward, his grin back in place. “It’s us. This is our proposal, Ivy.”
I step up beside him, my words coming out steady, even though my insides are twisting. “We want you to stay with us. Build this life. All of it. With all its mess and beauty. But most importantly... we want you, Ivy. To marry us, to be a family with us, to be with us forever.”
I watch her closely, waiting. She looks between the signs, then back to us. Her breath catches in her throat, and for a second, I wonder if she’s going to say something that’ll make all this feel like a mistake.
But then she speaks. Her voice soft, unsure, but carrying something else beneath it. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything right now,” Freddie says gently. “But we’re here. And we want this. With you.”
I watch as she looks back at the signs again. Her gaze lingers on the one I carved, and I can see her fingers twitching, like she wants to touch it, feel the letters under her skin.
Then, finally, she exhales and meets my eyes. “Yes. Yes, I’ll stay. I’ll build this life with you. I’ll marry you, however that will work!”
And just like that, I feel the weight lift. The tension that’s been holding me tight, that’s been squeezing the air from my lungs, starts to fade. Because we’re not just offering her a place to stay. We’re offering her a future. A life we’ll build together. No perfect answers. Just us.
All of us.
The second she says yes, I lose it.
Not in a loud way. Not with a whoop or a cheer. Just this slow, bone deep heat rolling through me, fire in my veins.
I stalk toward her without a word.
Freddie and Timothy hang back for a beat, maybe out of respect, maybe because they know I’ve been holding back all damn day, and I’m about to blow.
“You meant it?” I ask her, already reaching out, already pulling her into me.
Her eyes are wide, pupils blown, lips parted. She nods. “Yeah. I meant it.”
I kiss her before she can say anything else, hard, deep, dirty. My hand cradles the back of her neck, holding her in place as I devour her mouth, biting her bottom lip and sucking it between my teeth until she whimpers. She grabs at my shirt, like she needs it to stay upright.
Freddie’s behind her now, running his hands down her sides, gripping her hips while his mouth brushes her ear.
“You just gave yourself to us for the rest of our lives,” he says, voice smoky. “Hope you’re ready for what that means.”
She lets out this shaky little breath, and it’s the sexiest fucking sound I’ve ever heard.
“I want it,” she says. “I want all of you.”
I spin her around and shove her gently back against the nearest worktable.
The wood’s cool against her ass as I lift her onto it, ripping at the buttons of her shirt, exposing skin inch by inch.
Timothy’s there suddenly, silent but focused, kneeling at her feet as he tugs her jeans down and off. No teasing. No slow seduction.
This isn’t soft.
This is need.
By the time we’ve got her down to nothing, she’s already writhing, surrounded by us, claimed by us. Her legs fall open automatically, and Timothy wastes no time. His tongue is on her, licking long and deep as she throws her head back, one hand gripping his hair.
“I want her first,” I growl, already undoing my belt. “I need to fuck her while she’s looking me in the eyes.”
“Then take her,” Freddie says, lifting her from behind and pressing her forward, her hands bracing on my shoulders.
I line up and slam into her in one hard thrust, and her cry echoes through the shop, bouncing off the walls and settling into my spine.
“You’re so fucking tight, baby. You feel that? How full you are already?”
She nods frantically, moaning as Timothy stands and guides her mouth to his cock. Her lips part automatically, fuck, she’s so obedient when she’s desperate, and she takes him in deep, gagging just a little, which only makes his breath hitch.
I fuck her hard, dragging her down onto me over and over, her moans vibrating around Timothy. And Freddie? He’s behind her again, spreading her ass cheeks, watching the way I disappear into her while he rubs a slick finger around her rim.
“You want more, Ivy?” he whispers. “Want to be filled everywhere? Let us own you tonight?”
She whines around Timothy’s cock, trying to nod. I grab her jaw and gently pull her mouth free.
“Say it,” I growl. “Tell us how you want it.”
“I want it,” she gasps. “I want you in my ass, Freddie. I want to be full. Please.”
My vision goes black for a second.
She doesn’t even realize what that does to us, how much power she has in that moment, saying those words.
Freddie takes his time prepping her, whispering filth and praise as I slow my thrusts, giving her time. Timothy’s hands are in her hair, guiding her back onto him, groaning as she sucks him.
And then, slowly, Freddie presses into her ass, and she screams around Timothy’s cock.
We’re deep inside her together, so fucking full, and she takes it all.
“You’re perfect,” I pant, barely holding on. “Our perfect girl.”
“Fuck, Ivy,” Freddie grits out. “You’re gonna make me come just from this.”
Timothy pulls out of her mouth and leans down, kissing her breathless. “Hold it, both of you. She comes first.”
I reach between us and start rubbing her clit, fast and rough. She’s so overstimulated it’s cruel, but she fucking loves it. Her whole body tenses, then snaps, her orgasm crashing through her like a freight train. She screams our names as she comes, clenched so tight around us I see stars.
We follow her off that cliff seconds later, collapsing around her, inside her, wrecked.
Spent.
And yet… not done.
Not by a long shot.
Because now, she’s ours.
And we’re never letting her forget it.