#(I’m like half a bottle of wine in don’t mind me)

[elcucurucho]

sorry for being sappy but anyone who’s ever put in the work to learn a language that isn’t your native language I love you so much. languages are hard and I have so much respect for anyone who’s learned something new ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[ebodebo]

Nuts And Bolts

—mechanic!ghost with psychologist!reader…MDNI

Stepping out of your office and onto the town's bustling streets, you admire the Christmas decorations the city has set up. But, it does nothing to settle your soured mood.

Simon and you had gotten into an argument the previous night, and you haven’t heard or seen him since. You assumed he went to his car garage to let off some steam, but, as his wife, why the hell were you left to wonder about your husband’s whereabouts?

To set the scene, it had been an ordinary night. You had gotten off work before Simon, so you thought you would prepare a nice dinner with a glass of red wine.

Simon swings open the door as you season some vegetables, dawning an unpleasant expression. You turned to face him, raising a brow.

“What’s the matter?” You ask, setting your tongs down to walk over to him. He simply shakes his head and heads straight for your shared bedroom.

You tilt your head and head straight towards the bedroom after him, unable to let him writhe in his agony alone.

“Simon.” You stand in the doorway, observing him as he sits on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t so much as spare you a glance, making you worry.

You make your way to him and sit on the edge of the bed next to him. “You want to talk about what you’re feeling?” You insist, making him finally look at you.

“Stop it.” He firmly states. Your eyes widen at his tone.

“What?” You ask, keeping your tone soft to avoid antagonizing him.

“You’re tryin’ to do that shit again.” He scowls, standing up to walk back through the bedroom door. You quickly follow suit as he continues.

“Trynna’ pick my brain.” He walks over to the liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of whiskey.

“Like I’m a fuckin’ patient.”

“No. I—” You intently pause, thinking. “Okay, you seem upset, stressed even.” You watch him grab a glass and pour some whiskey into it.

“Alcohol isn’t a good way to cope.” You say, adopting your signature calm voice you use on your patients.

He laughs dryly, even though the burning amber liquid coated his throat.

“And, there you go again.” He sighed, looking up at you.

“I’m trying to help you, Simon.” You insist, reaching out to gently grab his forearm, though he quickly retracts from your touch.

He lets out another dry chuckle before setting down his glass and walking to the coat rack to grab his coat. You attempt to question his whereabouts, but he fills in the space first.

“I don’t need a shrink. I need my wife.”

And, with that, he left. Leaving you to stare helplessly at the front door, not knowing where you went wrong and not knowing where to go from there.

You recounted yesterday’s events in your mind all day today, even during patient sessions. You always left your personal matters at the door, but this was different because you were genuinely dumbfounded.

Even walking out of work, you still thought about the whole ordeal. However, your thoughts were absolved when you saw the familiar mechanic shop sign out of the corner of your eye. They would be closed about now, but, knowing Simon, he would still be there.

You walk into the garage part to see a body under a truck, working on it. You delicately press the little bell, you insisted he get, on the desk closest to the doors.

“We’re closed.” God, it had only been a day, but you missed his voice.

“Even for me?” You question, feeling a little shy. He paused his movements before scooting himself out from under the truck. Your eyes shamelessly glazed over his body, looking at what he was wearing: an old white shirt covered in grease and gray sweatpants with oil marks.

“No, not for you.” He stated, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he grabbed an old rag to wipe his hands clean.

You gave him a half-smile. “Been working overtime, I see?” You try to keep your tone playful, but judging by how he slightly frowns, you can tell your voice has defiled you.

“We should talk.” He stated, with almost a cringe on his face. You nod and sit on a chair adjacent to him as he leans on the hood of the truck he was working on.

“I’m sorry.” He sighs out, clearly disappointed in himself. “Was havin’ a shitty day and brought it onto you.” You look up at him and give him a frown.

“I’m sorry, too.” He snaps his eyes to yours, a puzzled expression taking over his face.

“For what?” You gently tug on your bottom lip before answering.

“For treating you like a patient and not my husband. It’s not fair to you.” You sigh, avoiding his gaze.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” He lightly demands. You bring your head up and bring your eyes to lock with his.

“This isn’t your fault. I was bein’ a dick.” He walks over to you and reaches for your hand, which you grasp. He guides you from the chair so you’re standing before him, looking up at him.

“Are you gonna come home?” You softly question as he stares into your eyes, mentally kicking himself for making them look so sullen.

“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” He says, bringing his hand up to sweep a stray piece of your hair away from your face, leaning down to kiss your lips sweetly. You could feel your skin sizzle from only a slight touch, internally sighing as he pulled away to speak.

“Should get goin’ then.” He says, walking over to the truck's hood and gently slamming it shut. “Johnny’s gonna come check the exhaust.”

“When’s he coming?” You absentmindedly ask as you watch Simon slip off his white shirt, observing his toned body.

“Eh, half an hour.” He casually says, turning away from you to walk over to the cabinet to grab a clean white shirt.

“So, we’re alone?” You question, bringing your hands up to untie the front of your blouse.

“Uh, huh.” He agrees, still rummaging through the cabinets, back towards you. You hum a sign of approval as you open your blouse, then move to unclip your bra, your breasts spilling out as soon as you do.

He finally finds a clean shirt and turns toward you, eyes widening as he sees you, chest bare. Your pulse quickens as he stares, unsure of his thoughts. When he doesn’t speak for a moment, you start to lose the confidence you had garnered.

“Is it too much?” You shyly ask, starting to feel insecure. He can’t speak; his mouth has gone dry at the sight of you. He drops the shirt in his hand and walks over to you, bringing his hand up to trace the curve of your breast.

“Fuck.” He manages to get out as your breathing becomes more ragged and your pupils dilate at the sensation.

“It’s never too much.” He answers your earlier question, cupping the bottom of your breast, making you sigh. You bring your hands up to grip his shoulders as he caresses your breast.

He leans to press a hot kiss onto your lips as he rolls your nipple between his pointer and thumb, making you moan into his mouth. He roughly grips the back of your thighs and picks you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he hauls you over to the hood of the truck.

He hikes up your skirt and hurriedly connects his lips back to yours before kissing down your neck, gently sucking on the tender skin, making you whine. He sinks to his knees in front of you, bringing one hand up to grab ahold of your calf, raising it slightly so he can slip the heel off your foot.

Once he gets one heel off, his other hand drifts to your other foot, slipping the heel off as he plants kisses up your ankle, and calf, stopping at your mid-thigh before nipping at the pantyhose encasing your cunt with his teeth, making a tiny hole. He slightly raises his hands and uses his pointers to split the pantyhose further.

“Hey! Those were Falke.” You urge, referring to the German-made, almost three-hundred dollar silk tights he had soiled.

“I’ll buy you more.” He amends, gripping the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, slipping them down simultaneously. His cock immediately shot up, so visibly hard. You brought your hands to gently pump him up and down as his hands went to massage your tender breasts.

He groans at the contact, gripping your breast a little firmer. You moan at that contact, pulling his cock a little firmer.

“You’re killin’ me, baby.” He chokes out, gripping the back of your neck as he roughly kisses your lips. With your hands still on his cock, you gently pull him closer by it, making him hiss as you guide it to your slit.

“I need you in me.” You whine as he brings his hand to twirl in your hair. In one swift motion, he thrusts into you. You both groan at the swift contact, even throwing your heads back.

His movements continue; over and over again, he thrusts into you, making you dig your nails into his skin, desperate for stability. You knew you wouldn't last long and could tell Simon wouldn't either. It has been only been a God-damned day, and you ached for him. Nothing but him would suffice your craving.

“So, fuckin’ good, baby. So, fuckin’ good.” He gruffly repeated, making you clamp around him tighter until you felt that familiar all-consuming euphoria you had so ached for.

As you reached your peak, Simon followed suit, coming with your name on the tip of his tongue. You were both panting, even after both of your orgasms subsided. You looked up at him as he tied your blouse back so your breasts were concealed, bra be damned.

“You did good.” You praised as he reached down to pick up your abandoned skirt from the floor.

“Yeah?” He lightly laughed out, finding humor in your statement.

“Yeah.” You nod as he grips your waist and pulls you off the hood of the car.

“Can you walk?” He questions, his hands still on your waist to help steady you as he carefully slips on your skirt.

“No. Might need you to carry me.” You sigh as you bring your hand up to fake an anguished expression.

“Uh, huh.” He rolls his eyes, though they contain no actual annoyance, as he goes to pick you up bridal style.

“Let’s get you home, Drama.”

a/n: this is the pipeline i’m here for

ur honor i’m just a girl

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[avocado-writing]

Hello there dear! If you are still taking requests how would you feel about writing something for logan x reader x wade, where reader gets between them while they're arguing/in a fight and gets hurt by accident? And how they would react to that.

Totally fine if you don't like the idea. Thank you for giving us all these lovely works!

It’s hard to know which one of them started it. Probably Wade. It’s usually Wade, saying something stupid or offhand which irritates Logan into a physical reaction. But occasionally Logan forgets to mind his mouth, especially when he’s had a couple of drinks, and then they’re just at each other’s throats with knives and claws. 

They have gotten better to be fair. Calmer. More adjusted to living in the same space, being together all the time. Plus you beg - beg - them not to fight in the apartment, there just isn’t enough room for it. 

To their credit they only get into fisticuffs at Wade’s place. Your home, with your boho throws and favourite posters, has remained unscathed. It is Switzerland in this damn war of testosterone. 

You’ve had Wade’s spare key forever now, he even got you a little unlicensed Deadpool charm to put on it, and you have your headphones in when you open the door. The sound of 80s rock covers up the noise of carnage inside, and that is why you’re so totally unprepared when the bottle comes flying at you. 

It does not hit you to be fair. It shatters on the doorframe, showering you in glass. You gasp. From where Logan has Wade in a headlock and Wade is trying to stab his way out, your boys freeze. Clearly Wade tried to bottle him, Logan swatted it away, and the situation at hand was created. A beat passes as you try and recover from what’s happened, and you feel a small trickle of blood run down to your jaw from your cheek. 

You rip the headphones from your ears, more angry than you’ve ever been. Their faces drop. 

“Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me, you two?! I’ve asked you not to fight because of shit exactly like this!”

You use the plain of your hand to wipe your face and grimace when it comes back red. This seems to break the two of them out of their stupor and your boys are immediately on their feet. 

“Fuck, pookie, we’re sorry—” Wade says, at the same time Logan starts, “Baby, we didn’t mean to—”

You hold up your bloodied hand in the universal sign for them to stop. They do, like a pair of trained dogs. 

“Fuck this shit. I’m done,” you snarl, because if you don’t rev up the anger you know you’ll start to cry. Tears are starting to prickle in the corner of your eyes. Before either of them can say anything you’ve turned on your heel and left the building. 

When you’re home, a glass of Sauvignon blanc deep and with a band aid on your cheekbone, you realise you didn’t really mean it. You’re not “done”. Done with their squabbling, maybe, and done with the situation in that moment, but not done done. You should probably call Wade up and apologise to them both, but honestly you’re still sort of angry at the whole scenario. 

You shove a handful of Cheetos in your mouth and stab the play button on the remote, sinking into the sofa as the next episode of Grey’s Anatomy plays, determined to be distracted in any way possible… when there’s a knock at the door. 

When you open it of course it’s them. They look like repentant schoolboys. Logan’s holding half a dozen boxes from your favourite pizza place, Wade has a bottle of wine with a ribbon tied around the neck. There’s a tag on it. It says “we’re sorry :(“ with a little doodle of them both in Wade’s hand. 

You soften. How could you not?

“We fucked up, we know!” he says quickly, anticipating that you might slam the door on him. “We’re sorry. Isn’t that right, peanut?”

“Yeah,” Logan sighs, remarkably accepting of the nickname when he’s grovelling to you. You drum your fingers on the doorknob. “Sorry you’ve got a couple of knuckleheads as partners, honey.”

Knuckleheads. That about sums them up. What a cute word, though; you forget how adorable they can both be, when they’re not trying to kill each other.  

“Did you get the mozzarella sticks?” you ask, nodding at the pile of food. Wade grins. He knows they’ve won. 

“Two portions, honey.”

“Hmm, okay. You can come in.”

They do and you shut the door behind them. Wade wastes no time in heading to your glass cabinet and decanting a drink for each of you, Logan clearing your coffee table so he can unpack the pizza. He grabs a slice of pepperoni as you sit down between the two of them, ready to imbibe. 

“We really are fucking sorry. Seriously, pookie, we won’t do it again,” Wade reiterates as he pushes a drink into your hand. You hum. 

“I know. I’m fucking serious though, boys. I’m done with your squabbles. Next time you wanna go at each other, one of you leave the room and take a walk around the block to cool down. Even if you don’t want to, think of me and do it anyway. Okay?”

“Okay,” Wade agrees quickly before looking at Logan with intent. The older man sighs. 

“Okay,” he agrees, hand on your knee in acceptance, “anything for you. Sorry again, bub.”

You squeak as Wade reaches over to press a kiss against the band-aid on your cheek. 

“What are you doing?!”

“Making it better.” His kiss lands on your lips this time. He tastes of grease. Must have sneaked a piece of garlic bread on the way up, cheeky bastard. You feel Logan’s hands slip around your waist. 

“Mmm, boys, the pizza…”

“Can be reheated. God gave us microwaves so that we could give you orgasms,” says Wade, happily, “or we can feed you mozzarella while we eat you out, your choice.”

You look at Logan for his opinion on the matter and he shrugs. 

“Sounds good to me.”

You grin, and the pizza grows cold.  

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[with-my-calamitous-love]

DON’T BRING ME TO TEARS WHEN I JUST DID MY MAKEUP SO NICE !

chuuya nakahara x f! reader

after a long and draining argument, chuuya makes it up to you in between your thighs.

smut! you are responsible for what you read 🪽

inspired by please please please

it was no ones fault, really.

it was one of those arguments that are really an amalgamation of many different things. that unwashed plate, his late nights and your early mornings, the way he brushes his teeth so god damn loud when you’re trying to read. it happens to every couple- not everything is sunshine, and you have to learn to love each other despite the things that may drive you crazy.

this should have been one of those nights. but it wasn’t.

you finally give out, surrendering your yells as the tears choke down your cheeks. he’s rescheduled this anniversary dinner about 6 times now, all due to his lucrative line of work. you were a okay at first, despite the nerve he had to make you call the restaurant almost all those times to cancel and reschedule.

“i feel like i don’t matter to you, chuuya.” you sigh in frustration, wiping away a tear. his eyebrows crease in shared annoyances, mostly towards himself for letting it get to this point. he’s tired, overworked by that jackass mori, and just wants to come home to you and feel your love. but he’s broken his promises, and knows he’s wronged you- despite how cocky he may be.

“i know, i know, i know, doll.” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. he hates seeing you cry, and hates knowing he’s the reason why. he hates that the dress you just bought is now wrinkled due to waiting around in the apartment for him, and that your perfect eyeliner and mascara are smudged because of your arguing.

he isn’t even sure why he argued back. he knows he’s a prick that hates being wrong, but he’s also a prick thats head over heels in love with you. he shouldn’t have pushed you to the side, especially on such an important day. his explanations remained the same, but his promises remained broken.

you eventually sigh in defeat, giving up and locking yourself in the bedroom. chuuya resigns to the couch, opening up a bottle of cabernet and filling his glass full. he tosses his hat and his coat aside, loosely undoes his bolo tie and unbuttons his shirts. if you weren’t sobbing over his asshole-like behaviour, you’d get to see his unreasonably toned abs peaking out from his shirt. messy orange hair hangs low from his shoulders, tired and missing you.

a few hours go by. chuuya’s had his fair share of alcohol, but he’s not intoxicated enough to miss the subtle click of the bedroom door unlocking.

he hesitantly walks over to the door, creaking it open to see you standing there. his eyes shamelessly roam your body, seeing how you’ve removed the dress and stripped down to just your panties.

“i was just gonna go to sleep.” you sigh. its not like he hasn’t seen every inch of you, anyway.

“wait.” he says, gently taking your hand and looking into your eyes. (impressive, considering you’re literally naked in front of him.)

you don’t say anything, but your fingers do interlock with his. it gives chuuya the green light to speak.

“…i’m sorry, doll. i shouldn’t have kept rescheduling and accepting you not to care. you do matter. it meant just as much to me as it did to you.” say what you will about chuuya, but he is a stand up guy. he’ll own up to it, especially if he knows its important to you.

you sigh, your lips curling into a small smile. its hard, damn near impossible to stay mad at him. “please don’t make me call the restaurant again, babe.”

chuuya chuckles, and you can see the remnants of the wine on his lips. he knows you’re only half joking, but he kisses your forehead in reassurance. “no, i have something different in mind.”

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

chuuya eats pussy like he’s starved.

he drags you to the end of the bed, getting on his knees and places kisses on your innermost corners until your sobbing, begging for him to kiss you. he’ll use his thumbs to spread you open, just admiring the way he gets your fluids dripping down. he’ll spit on your pussy, seeing how it runs down your already gushing core before he finally goes in.

slowly, he’ll sink down between your trembling thighs, his tongue darting out to take that first tantalizing lick. you arch your back at just that light contact, knowing you’ll be in for a long night. his hands grab your hips, blessedly holding you in place while he lavishes your pussy.

“your pussy is so pretty, baby.” he moans against you, closing his eyes and loving how warm and soft you are. he savours this taste likes its the last he’ll ever have. as intimate as the moment is, you both know he’ll fuck his cock into you filthy and fast later- better to enjoy the soft stuff now.

“je pourrais rester ici pendant des heures.” he groans with you, the vibrations sending waves of warm pleasure through your body. it starts from your teary eyes, than to your sensitive breasts, down to your stomach and the finally reaching chuuya in between your thighs. every now and then his eyes will open, looking up to see your flushed pink face, but he doesn’t dare remove his mouth. not until your soaking wet for him.

“chuuya! oh, fuck, please!” you whine, grabbing fistfuls of silky orange hair. he chuckles almost cruely, knowing that he’s not stopping any time soon. he does this just as much for him as he does for you, if not more. he loves the way you moan his name, how your pussy tastes. it makes his cock fill out knowing that he’s the only guy that gets to taste it.

“please what doll? want me to stop?” he asks, already knowing what the answer is. he teases you by slowing down his tongue, only touching your pulsing heat with just the tip of it. you almost cry, begging him to keep going.

“bonne fille, tu as tellement bon goût.” he praises you, wrapping his wine-stained lips around your clit and sucking in a way that gets you sobbing from the pleasure. you want to wrap your thighs around his head, pushing him deeper, but he keeps your legs nice and spread for him. “just like that, doll. god, you’re so pretty like this. can’t wait to fuck you so good later.”

you can feel yourself unraveling, and chuuya knows it. his tongue, lips and teeth move in a messy pattern, making your toes curl deliciously. you’re so close, almost seeing white as you approach your high. he does everything to make it as intense as possible, ending it off with one long stroke from bottom to the tip of your clit.

you wail when you cum, chuuya’s thumb rubbing your clit in circles guiding you through the orgasm. your chest heaves as he moves up higher, placing a kiss on your neck. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make you squirt tonight. just relax.”

safe to say that if chuuya was gonna make you cry, he should do it like this instead.

[augustinewrites]

once shoko opens her door, you offer her a half-hearted smile and hold up your bottle of wine. if there’s one person you can count on to help drink your feelings away, it’s—

“i actually can’t tonight,” she sighs. “i have an exam tomorrow and i already had a few drinks so…”

“wait, shoko—” you catch the edge of the door, sighing as you admit, “i think satoru is cheating on me.” 

she pauses for a second, as if checking to see if you’re serious. 

then, “you open that up. i’ll get the glasses.” 

“thanks,” you grin, following her inside. 

“do you need anything else?” she calls from the kitchen. “a hug? baseball bat? an alibi?”

“no need for glasses, and we don’t need the other stuff…yet,” you grimace, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a swig, kicking the door shut behind you. “and i don’t know for sure that he’s cheating, but he’s just been so weird lately.” 

“weird how?” your friend asks, pushing aside the textbooks she has open on the couch cushions before gesturing for the bottle. “it’s gojo, you’ve gotta be more specific.”

you hand her the tequila, shaking your head. “it was small things at first. showing up late for dates or just cancelling them. not telling me where he’s been all day. then last night i saw this text on his phone…”

shoko’s brows raise. “you were looking at his messages?”

“no!” you exclaim. then, when your best friend sends you a look, “okay, i didn’t mean to! he left his phone on the nightstand while he was in the shower and i looked at it when it buzzed with a text from someone named megumi.”

“oh,” shoko realizes, eyes widening. “that’s a girl’s name.” 

you both sit in silence for a moment, passing the bottle back and forth. your phone buzzes a few times in your pocket - undoubtedly satoru asking why you’ve been avoiding him all day - but you ignore it.

“let’s confront him,” shoko proposes once you’re halfway through the bottle. “find out once and for all.”

“okay!” by now, you’re buzzed enough to think this is a brilliant idea, standing on unsteady legs as shoko calls for a cab. 

_____

“hey,” your boyfriend smiles weakly once he opens the door. “wait, what’s shoko doing—”

“where is she?” she asks, pushing past the both of you to walk into his apartment. she begins flipping up couch cushions and checking behind curtains. 

“what’s going on?” satoru asks, letting you push him inside. he looks down at you, concern clouding his expression. “what’s she talking about?”

you’re not sure if it’s liquid courage or frustration that causes you to blurt, “are you cheating on me?”

“what? of course not—”

“then who’s megumi?”

“he is toji’s six year son!”

your eyes widen. shoko freezes, halfway through opening a cabinet. 

toji…had a son? “so he’s a— a—”

“he’s a zen’in,” your boyfriend confirms. it’s as if all the air leaves your lungs when he says that, catching in your throat. “his mom passed, and after toji…i couldn’t just leave him alone. apparently toji made some deal to sell the kid to the zen’in clan, and i didn’t want…so i filed for guardianship.”

“guardianship,” you echo. “you’re planning to raise the kid on your own?

“his sister too.” 

“i’m gonna go get a cab home. let you two talk,” shoko laughs nervously, speeding out the door. 

satoru walks over to the couch once she’s gone, sitting the edge and hiding his face in his hands. “i’d get it, you know.”

“get what?” you ask, sitting next to him.

“you didn’t sign up for this,” he sighs. “taking in two kids— it’s a lot. but i couldn’t do nothing. he’s going to need someone to help him. teach him. care about him. so he doesn’t end up like…”

he doesn’t finish his sentence. you don’t make him. even after a few years, the heartache of losing your friend causes a dull ache in your chest. 

though…he’s right that you didn’t sign up for any of this. kids were the furthest thing from your mind at this stage of your life, not to mention this stage of your relationship. 

but if satoru, who is barely an adult himself, can find it in his heart to do what you know in your mind is the right thing…

“then i guess it’ll make the next few years of our lives pretty exciting,” you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“our lives?” he repeats, sounding shocked. “you’re…staying?”

you draw back to meet his pensive gaze, though it melts away when you offer him a small smile. you see him in this moment. 

so you cup his face in your hands, thumb softly stroking his cheek. “you didn’t think i would want to stay?”

“i hoped,” he murmurs, lips brushing against the inside of your wrist. “but i didn’t know for sure.”

“well, i’m not going anywhere,” you assure him, kissing the tip of his nose. “even if you’re a monumental pain in my ass.”

[milfsloverblog]

Good Luck, Babe! (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: I know, I know. I’ve got series waiting for an update blah blah blah. But when something sparks your inspiration, you just got to get to work!! This one’s - obviously - inspired by the Chappell Roan song. This is full on ANGST, HURT NOT COMFORT, you’ve been warned! One shot, no second chapter to fix it all. We love the pain. Hope you’ll enjoy my darlings and don’t forget to like and reblog if you do!! <3

Larissa had been startled awake by a sudden loud noise, her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the bedroom she shared with the banshee that slept next to her.

Not a literal one - although that might have been a better choice, Larissa thought as she turned her head towards the man she’d been sharing a bed with for over a decade and nearly two. Ha, there it was again. That loud snoring that kept her awake for nights on end. A banshee, that’s what he sounded like.

She sat up, carefully swinging her legs on the side of the bed and trying her best not to wake him up - somehow the snoring was still more bearable than his incessant yapping when he was awake.

Larissa took a deep breath, rubbing her hands on her face as she contemplated what to do with the rest of her night. She had a little over four hours left of sleep before her alarm would go off, signifying the beginning of her working day. She brushed her fingers through her silver hair, holding back a whine when some of it got stuck in her wedding ring.

Oh bitter irony, she thought as she pulled away to inspect the golden ring on her left hand.

The banshee snored again, pulling Larissa out of her thoughts and nearly making her consider squeezing a pillow on her husband’s face. Instead, she quietly got out of bed, throwing a silky robe on her silkier shoulders and tying it close as a shiver ran down her spine.

Things could have been so different.

As her hand brushed down the wooden handrails of the main stairs, Larissa couldn’t help but reminisce about her younger days. She thought of Nevermore when she was only a student there and not in charge of it. The Poe cup, the Rave’N, the feeling of soft hands on her skin. Larissa stopped dead in her tracks. She could have sworn that she had felt it, right there in the middle of the staircase, the ghost of soft hands on her midriff. She took a deep breath and hurried down the stairs on the tip of her toes, still not wanting to wake up the banshee that rested upstairs.

Turning the light on as she made her way to the kitchen, Larissa walked straight to the sink and knelt to access the cupboard below it. She didn’t even look at the bottles, grabbing the first one that met her hand and pulling it out of the cupboard. It would be a good one anyway, her darling husband always made sure of it. Grand wine, grand house (that she had been against buying), grand life, grand wife. The thought left a bitter taste in Larissa’s mouth and she hurried to open the bottle, eager to replace the bitterness of a wasted life with the bitter taste of an aged Chianti.

As she sipped on her freshly poured wine, Larissa’s mind transported her back to a night twenty years ago.

“They’ll catch us!” Larissa half-whispered as her hand squeezed yours.

“Everyone’s at the Rave’N, they won’t even notice we’re gone. Come on, even if they did, Nevermore’s brightest student and its biggest weirdo? No one would speculate that we’re together. They’ll think that you went to bed early, as a bright student should, and that I’m hiding in some dark corner all alone like a loser.” You joked, pushing the door to your room open.

“I’m not Nevermore’s brightest student, Morticia is,” Larissa said, her crimson-painted lips falling in a soft pout.

“Ha, so nothing about me not being a weirdo or a loser?” You feigned being hurt before letting out a chuckle. “Morticia doesn’t have half of your intelligence nor a quarter of your beauty. She’s got a big pair of tits, that’s all.” You shrugged, closing the door behind you.

Something churned inside Larissa’s stomach, the early stirrings of jealousy making her face grow hot at the mere thought of you finding Morticia somewhat attractive.

“Kiss me,” she demanded.

“Wait, I’ve got something-“You didn’t have time to finish your sentence as Larissa's lips crashed against yours, bruising and demanding.

Larissa opened her mouth and you quickly followed, allowing her to thrust her tongue against yours in a dance you two had been rehearsing for months. Her lips moved down your chin and up your jaw, leaving a trail of red marks that you’d have to scrub at in the morning.

“Riss-“ you whined when she nipped at the thin skin of your neck, gently pulling away from her. “Wait, wait-“

Larissa reluctantly let go of you, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb and clearing her throat.

“I want to take my time,” you explained. “We always do this so quickly, most of the time I can’t even get you fully naked. Let’s take our time, everyone will be busy downstairs for another couple of hours.”

Larissa pushed a small smile and nodded. She sat down on your bed and watched as you pulled something from underneath it.

“How on earth did you get that?!” She squealed, nearly ripping the green bottle from your hand.

“Borrowed it from the kitchen,” you shrugged.

“You know that borrowing means you’ll give it back at some point, right?” Larissa mumbled as she read the tag on the bottle.

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll buy some cheap bottle from the supermarket downtown and put it back in the kitchen.”

Larissa let out a snorting laugh and shook her head.

“Do you even know how much this is worth?” She said, gesturing with the bottle in her hand.

“Now don’t be rude,” you raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one that comes from a rich family, not me.”

“Shut up and pour us a glass, if you have anything to open the bottle with!” Larissa pouted. You knew she hated being reminded that she came from money, but it simply was the truth.

“Who do you take me for, a rookie?” You huffed as you opened your bedside table only to pull out a bottle opener and wave it victoriously in Larissa’s face, making her laugh.

What happened next was a little blurry in Larissa’s mind. She remembered sharing the wine, drinking straight from the bottle as you laughed about everything and nothing. She remembered spilling wine on the awfully expensive gown her father had bought her for the Rave’N, and then soft hands helping her out of it. Her head between your thighs, yours between hers. She remembered falling asleep in your arms and waking up still in your arms the next morning. And that had been the breaking point for Larissa. Her parents would never agree to this, to her having this sort of feelings for women, for you. She had to nip this in the bud before it went too far. And so she did.

Larissa made sure to avoid you like the plague after that night, going as far as becoming friends with Morticia Frump and her clique even though she knew how much you disliked them. And then came Henry. He wasn’t Larissa’s type, obviously. But he would please her parents and so she let him court her until they officially became a thing. Then everything had gone so fast, her final year at Nevermore, the graduation, Henry proposing.

“Larissa!” You ran after her inside Nevermore after witnessing Henry’s proposal in the yard. What a dick move, proposing right after she had graduated. Nice way to steal her spotlight.

Larissa spun on her heels, fidgeting with the new ring that felt unfamiliar on her left hand.

“What do you want?” She sighed, trying her best to keep her eyes off of you.

“You can’t do that,” you said, shaking your head. “You can’t marry him, you don’t even love him! Larissa, please…”

“Please what?” Larissa snapped. “What did you think? That this fling we had would turn into more than it was? Don’t be ridiculous.”

You swallowed your pain, refusing to let your heart burst at the seam.

“When you wake up next to him in a decade or two,” you said, fighting against the lump in your throat. “And you’ll realise that you’re nothing more than his wife, you’ll think of me. You’ll think of everything we shared all of those years ago.“

It was Larissa’s turn to swallow thickly as she took in your words. Marrying him meant security, a normal life. But it also meant losing her freedom, Larissa knew that.

“Say something,” you pleaded, hoping that it would be enough for your ex-lover to change her mind.

“I’m sorry,” she simply replied, holding her head high as she always did in any situation - good or bad. “You knew this would come to an end.” She added before giving a small nod and walking past you, the sound of her kitten heels echoing down the corridor.

She hadn’t seen you since. You hadn’t replied to the wedding invite she had sent. She had hoped you’d show up, she’d hoped to prove to you that she had made the right choice. That she was happy in the life she had picked for herself. That she had moved on. But she hadn’t really moved on, had she? Drinking herself half-blind almost two decades after she’d last seen you. Maybe you had moved on. Surely you had.

When Larissa was pulled back to reality, to the empty kitchen and the emptier glass of wine in her hand, tears had started running down her cheeks which she hastily wiped away.

She had thought about reaching out more times than she would ever admit. But she never dared. Not when she had found your Facebook and you seemed so happy with that woman on your profile picture. She would never dare reach out to you for she knew that you would tell her what you always did whenever she had to deal with the consequences of her actions.

I told you so, Larissa. You know I hate to say it but I told you so.

And Larissa wished, she wished she had listened to you. She wished she could go back in time and she wished she could forget you.

But Larissa knew - she would have to stop the world to stop the feeling.

————————————————————————

taglist: @weemssapphic, @im-a-carnivorous-plant, @dingdongthetail, @azu-zu, @gwensfz , @erablaise-blog , @rainbow-hedgehog , @renravens , @kaymariesworld , @niceminipotato , @agathaandgwenslesbian, @witchesmortuary , @notmeellaannyy , @gwenilover, @weemswife , @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 , @redkarine , @women-are-so-ethereal , @opheliauniverse , @willisnotmental , @raspburrythief , @vigelvictoria, @fictionalized-lesbian , @weems13 , @lynn1ebug, @ness029 , @geekyarmorel , @h-doodles , @cxndlelightx , @m1lflov3rrr , @winterfireblond , @nocteangelus15 , @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @spacetoaim22 @1-800-milfdilf @vendocrap8008 @opalthefrog @jkregal l @gela123 @lilfartbox1 @raya0jpg @xuukoo @bellatrixsbrat @sadsapphic-rose @dumbasslesbi @larissaoftarthweems @larissalover3 @friskyfisher @thesamesweetie @fliesinmymouth @imprincipalweemspet @forwhichidream11 @amateurwritescm @imlike-so-gaydude @sugipla @lvinhs @http-sam @franouo @mysteriouslysapphic @gweninred @a-queen-and-her-throne

[mydearesthrry]

episode 2 - love island!harry styles

a/n: im inspired if you couldnt tell. no spoilers! this wont really follow the li universe exactly but if you want more let me know :P LOVE ISLAND USA 2024 CAST BTW

“hi, could i pull you for a chat?” harry softly taps on y/n’s shoulder, a polite smile on his face.

“oh, yeah, of course!” she picks up her wine glass, pulling the skirt of her dress off of her knees and jumping off the stool, grabbing onto harry’s forearm for support.

“oof, careful there, love.” he warns, eyebrows furrowing concerned as she stumbles.

“im okay, im okay! its just my heels. they’re a bitch on this wood, they get stuck in the cracks.” she giggles, intertwining their arms.

harry supports her, leading her towards soul ties for a chat. they get settled, and he pulls off his backward cap. “so, love, how are you feeling?”

she shrugs. “i mean, a bombshell just took my couple so not that well, but…” she flickers her eyes up at him. “i feel…. i like this. i like you, and.. i wouldn’t mind exploring this if— if that’s what you’d want too?”

“i do! i do, i really do— and… i’m not coupled either, i know you aren’t… maybe if we got lucky?” he responds, turning completely to her, resting a hand on her knee.

she nods, smiling at him and leaning a bit closer. “yeah. maybe if we got lucky.”

“so,” harry takes a sip from his water bottle. “do you have your eyes on anyone else in the villa?”

she shakes her head. “no, i honestly… i couldn’t, at this point. i know you got here to the villa last night, but,” she pauses. “i think you got me.”

harry looks up, cheesing. “yeah?”

“mhmm,” she nods. “you’re.. definitely my first choice. but i know that a few other girls want you too.”

he scoffs, shaking his head. “nah. i got you, babe. swear it. tonight? you got me.”

“yeah? i do?” she murmurs insecurely.

he lifts her chin with his hand. “you got me. i promise.” he places a soft kiss to her cheek before wrapping his arm around his shoulders, bringing her close. “my girl. we’re basically already coupled, don’t lie.”

she giggles. “if that’s what you think, h.”

“wh— y’don’t think that too?!” he squawks, ruffling her hair.

“i do! i do, i promise!” she squeals, pushing his hands away, quickly placing her glass on the floor, coming to attack him back.

“no! no! not the hair!” he giggles, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. “you’re so pretty.”

she snorts, shaking her head and scooting closer to his chest. “you’re biased. and you’re a liar.”

“me? a liar? never, my love. you’re the most beautiful girl here.” he says simply, pressing another small kiss to her temple. “ready to get recoupled?”

she nods. “ready.”

———

a few hours later, the girls stand in a line in front of the firepit, y/n at the start of the line. ariana calls her out, and she steps forward.

“um, i’m choosing this boy because… he’s really kind, and a really good person, and i think our connection has been really special, um…” she pauses, flicking her eyes to harry who’s already grinning.

“and yeah, i just think that we could make something special if given the opportunity, and i choose…. harry.” she giggles, face flushing at harry pumping his fist in victory, jumping and hooting as all the boys cheer and shout for him.

they meet each other half way, arms held out for each other. he grabs her and pulls her close, mouth leveling with her ear as he whispers, “my girl. see? you got me, and i got you.” before he places a kiss to her cheek, leading her back to his seat.

he pulls her down to sit next to him, wrapping an arm around her as his hand rests on her hip. he places another soft kiss to her hair, getting comfortable with her resting against his side.

she looks up at him and puckers her lips, harry grinning and leaning forward to peck her lips. ariana squeals, and they both flush red at the reminder that they weren’t alone.

“we were destined for this!” he defends, holding her closer possessively.

“yeah man, we know.” kendall says back, crossing his arms and slightly grumbling.

“don’t be sad, kendall!” she grins, leaning closer into harry. the conversation moves on, and the next girl steps forward.

harry leans forward, whispering into her ear. “you look absolutely beautiful, by the way.”

she moves her head to look at him, scrunching her nose and smiling appreciatively. she leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. “thank you.”

———

Y/N walks in after changing into her pjs and removing her makeup, walking toward her and harry’s bed, harry already under the covers with a book in front of his face. “can i join you?”

harry looks up, grinning widely. “of course, m’girl. come cuddle up, get comfy.”

she hops in, throwing the covers over them, engulfing them in darkness, a sliver of light coming from the barely cracked duvet at their heads. “hi.”

“hi baby, you okay?” harry smiles back, moving a bit closer, their nose now touching.

“so very okay,” she nods. “im really excited for this.”

“i am, too. so excited. wanna cuddle?” he offers, going to pull the covers down.

“wait— wait…” she holds a hand out, and he pauses. “can i… can we kiss for a little? just a little, i don’t wanna be one of those couples, but… just a little?”

“you don’t need to ask, sweet girl. c’mere.” he brings her forward, buttoning his lips with hers. he hums softly at the feeling of her soft lips on his, the taste of her coconut lip balm shooting a thrill of desire up his spine. they kiss slowly, evading the loud noises.

“wait, are Y/N and harry making out under the blankets?” kaylor calls, making them freeze, breaking their lips and cuddling close, knowing someone was going to pull over their covers. and to no one’s surprise, rob’s face shines over Y/N and harry, a smug grin on his face.

“oh, you guys totally were.” harry swats him away, hiding y/n’s face from their view.

“leave us alone!” she squeals, hitting at rob’s thigh.

“okay, okay! jeez lovebirds, my bad.” he smirks, walking back to his bed.

the room quickly quiets down, the lights shutting off as everyone shuffles to get comfortable.

“cuddle?” harry whispers into her ear. she nods, burrowing into his chest.

"I could stay like this with you forever, love," he murmurs, his voice low and affectionate. "just holding you in my arms, feeling your body against mine. It's like the rest of the world disappears and it's just us, together, in our own little world."

“so cheesy.”

“you love it.”

she hums. “yeah. i really do.”

[bloatedandalone04]

Like Fine Wine

➪the one where you can’t resist hayden’s look for his role in ahsoka.

Warnings: hubby hayden bc i want to marry this man so badly, current age (or 41 year old) hayden, smut, fluff, pet names, unprotected sex, handjob (brief), hair pulling, soft smut, you guys just straight up loving on each other, reader is feral for him, spoilers for ahsoka if you haven’t seen the last 2 episodes, takes place during the filming of ahsoka (back in may 2022), this is just self-indulgent tbh

Word Count: 2.5k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

When you finally made your way back to the hotel room you and Hayden were staying at during the filming of Ahsoka, the last thing you were expecting to see was your husband propped up against the headboard, shirtless with grey sweats covering his lower half, and the script for tomorrow in his hands. 

He looked absolutely divine, and you bit back a moan at the mere sight of him, the wine bottle you had bought from the store across the street nearly slipping from your grasp.

When he heard the door open but didn’t hear your voice right after, Hayden looked up to see you standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on your face as you stared at him. “Hey, baby,” he murmured in a greeting, flipping the script back to the first page as you closed the door without breaking eye contact. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go over this scene with me, but you seem…preoccupied. What’s on your mind?”

You set the bottle down on the table by the door, shrugging off your jacket as you stepped towards him. “I was just thinking,” you trailed off, biting your lip as your eyes stalked his body like he was prey. 

Hayden sat up against the headboard, a teasing glint in his eye. “About what?”

Kneeling on the bed, you kick off your shoes before crawling over to him and straddling his lap. “About what I could’ve possibly done to deserve such a hot husband,” you answer, taking the package of papers from him and dropping them on the rug beside the bed. 

His hands instinctively grab your waist, his own eyes raking up and down your face. “Eighteen years together and you’re only asking that now?” He teased, his fingers lifting your shirt slightly so he could feel your skin on his. 

“Oh, no, I’ve been asking myself that since the day you messed up your practice run with Ewan and had to restart it from the very beginning,” you say back, watching as a knowing smile graced his lips.

“That was only because you walked on set looking like something right off of the red carpet. Kinda like how you look right now,” he not so subtly gazed down at your body, his blue eyes beginning to darken the longer he had you on top of him.

You roll your eyes but blush at his forward words, resting your hands on his shoulders. Eighteen years together and fifteen since you’ve been married, and he still was able to effortlessly make you feel like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 

Your engagement ring and wedding band reflected off the single lamp he turned on, unknowingly setting the mood for when you got back. It was on the bedside table next to his phone, which had been turned completely off since he was away from set and planned to spend the rest of his night with you. 

“Aren’t you a charmer?” You mumbled, feeling the cool metal of his own wedding band, that was identical to yours, pressed against the heated skin of your hip. “Seriously, do you even realize how good you look right now?” 

His hair was still somewhat styled in his clone wars look for the flashback scene, and the way it curled in certain spots had your whole body aching for him. If he hadn’t taken off the makeup for the scar already, you probably would’ve been wrapped around him by now. “I don’t know,” he answered, kissing you back when you placed your mouth against his. “I’m not sure I can believe it after you told me that about ten times on set earlier today.”

You and he had actually met during the filming of Star Wars Episode II, but didn’t start dating until Episode III had been fully completed. You went to the premiere together and that was your public debut as a couple, and you still remembered how loudly the fans cheered when he kissed you right there on the carpet.

You, too, would be in a few flashbacks towards the end of the series, in the form of your Force Ghost. Your character was killed in the last half of Episode III by Anakin himself, and you still remembered filming that scene like it was yesterday. 

The tears you shed that day were one hundred percent real, as you were actually saying goodbye to the character that introduced you to your future husband. At that point you and Hayden had gone on several low-key dates, but didn’t become official until a couple of months later. His acting was also more real than not in that scene as he had to pretend to kill you in a somewhat brutal way.

To revisit your character for the first time in over a decade was one of the best opportunities you had ever gotten, and you could only assume that this was how Hayden felt when he was asked to return as Anakin in Obi-Wan. While your scenes wouldn’t be filmed for a few more weeks, Hayden still insisted you stay with him until the filming was wrapped up completely. 

“I’m not apologizing for hyping up my husband,” you say against his lips. “I’m being so serious, Hayden, you look good.”

He grins up at you, pulling your body closer until your chest pressed right up against his, the subtle rock of your hips making you suppress a moan. “Well, thank you, sweet girl,” he nudges your nose with his. “I can always count on you to make me feel good about myself.”

“You so can,” you agree, trailing your hands down his toned chest, smirking at the way his stomach muscle flexed at your light touch. “You’re so attractive, I don’t think you even realize it.”

Hayden hummed, slowly dragging his hands up your body and taking your shirt along the way. “I could say the same thing about you,” he said before asking, “You’re awfully flirty tonight, what’s got you all worked up?”

“You,” came your simple reply, your fingers pulling at the loose string of his sweats. You lean down to place a chaste kiss to his lips, one that leaves him wanting more as you descend your mouth down to his shoulder, where you place a few open mouthed kisses to his skin. “You, being so unbelievably sexy when you’re back in your element on set. The way you looked when you were practicing earlier? The way you look now? You don’t know the things you do to me, Hayden.”

“I beg to differ,” he rasps out when you place another kiss to the base of his throat, his hands quickly fumbling to take off your shirt. It drops to the floor beside the script and you lift your head so you were looking right at him, your body level with his as you slowly rocked your hips against his. “Y/n.”

You give him a teasing grin, sliding your hands down his sides before they land on the front of his sweats. “I know,”you murmur and kiss him slowly, slipping your hand past the waistline and palming him. You hold back a smirk when you find him already hard for you, his body’s way of responding to yours every time you come onto him. “I just want to make you feel as good as you look.”

Hayden huffed out a breathy moan as you pulled him free from the sweatpants. “I want to make you feel good, too, baby,” he managed to say as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking him. 

You hum, “I already feel good from just looking at you,” 

A ghost of a moan escaped your lips when leaned forward to kiss your exposed shoulder in an attempt to quiet his own sounds. 

Though this was a nice hotel, he still didn’t want to risk the possibility of the walls being thin enough for him to receive noise complaints, though the thought had him growing harder in your hand. 

“You don’t know how much you turn me on,” you nearly whisper, the pad of your thumb brushing over his tip and making him groan quietly against your skin.

“After twenty years of knowing you, I think I know exactly how much I turn you on,” he mumbled, bucking his hips up so you stroked him a bit harder. “It’s the same way with you, baby. You make me feel so good all the time.”

You whimper quietly when his hand slips inside the front of your leggings, biting down harshly on your bottom lip when he finds your clothed clit with no trouble at all. Being intimate with the same person for half your life came with that perk. “I want you so bad,”

Hayden lifted his head back up to connect your lips in a kiss, murmuring, “You have me. Since that first day I saw you, I’ve been all yours,” when he pulls away to lift your hips in order to rid you of your leggings and the lace that covered your core. “I love you, Y/n Christensen.”

You moaned at that, moving back to straddle his hips again. Gripping the sides of his neck, you use the tips of your thumbs to tilt his head up in order to be able to give him a deep kiss. “I love you,” you whined as he guided your heat over him a few times, prepping both himself and you with your slickness. “My hot, sexy husband.”

And then you were lifting your hips and sliding onto him until he was buried deep within you. Your hips met his as moans escaped both of you, with Hayden leaning back against the pillows and headboard to let you take full control. 

While he always wanted you in this way, seeing him as Anakin again clearly did something to you, and he was more than okay with letting you take the lead like you needed to. 

You close your eyes and grip his shoulders, moaning softly when you lift yourself up before dropping back down again. “I’m never getting over this,” you confess, though it wasn’t new news. Even though you had been together for nearly two decades, you still hadn’t grown tired of each other, further proving the fact that you were meant to be together. “Fuck.”

Hayden groaned under his breath, his hands gripping your waist as you began to slowly ride him. “Just like that, sweet girl,” he praised softly, feeling the way you clenched around him at his words. “We fit so well together, don’t we? Make each other feel so good.”

You moan a bit louder, nodding quickly as your hands move to tangle in his  hair. The fact that it was you who got to see him like this, and it was you who got to mess up his Anakin-styled hair had you going a bit feral.

“So good,” you agree, dropping yourself down on him with a bit more force, really setting a pace that would ensure you both wouldn’t last too long. He is forty one and you were pushing thirty nine, you couldn’t really expect to be as durable in the bedroom after a long day of filming. 

Still, when he hadn’t spent a whole day on set, Hayden could go for longer, simply because he aged unbelievably well and kept his body in great shape. 

He also wasn’t expecting you to want to jump his bones as soon as you got back from your wine run after he changed into more comfortable clothing, planning on going over a few of his scenes with you before bed. 

That still didn’t stop him from letting you completely drain any and all energy he had left from the day as you grind your hips against his. Small, needy whines left your pretty lips as you moved further down on him, driving him even deeper into your willing and wanting walls. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he couldn’t help but say, making your pace falter slightly as you flushed at his words. “My girl. The prettiest woman in the world.” He complimented as his hands slid up your back and expertly unclasped your bra. 

He pulled it from your body and replaced it with his hands, his thumbs and index fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. You whimper at the feeling of his smooth fingers against your sensitive buds, tugging harshly at his strands. “Hayden,” you murmur, guiding him into you quicker with swift grinds of your hips. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah, baby,” he said under his breath, trailing one hand down to circle your throbbing clit with his thumb. His other hand moved to tightly grip your hip again as you picked up the pace, beginning to feel that tight sensation forming in your abdomen. “You feel so good. So good for me, baby, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut as you pulse around him, your thighs burning with exertion and forcing you to stop for a brief second before Hayden grabs your other hip and begins thrusting up into you. “Yes,” you gasp out, tangling your hands tighter in his hair as he lifts himself up from against the pillows to really allow him to drive himself impossibly deeper inside you. “Oh, fuck, yes, don’t stop, Hayden, please.”

How could he deny you your wish? In all honesty, he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to stop, anyway, as you were clenching so tightly around him and sucking him in as deep as he could go, he almost blacked out for a second from how blinding the feeling was. 

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he requested quietly in your ear, his deep and raspy voice making you clench tighter around him as your walls pulsed in time with his quick thrusts. “I want you to, want to feel it.”

Your mouth opened in a faint cry and your stomach swelled as you wrapped your arms tightly around him. As your whole body tensed up in his arms, Hayden felt your walls spasm slightly before he also felt the flood of your release coat him. It gave him the perfect amount of friction for him to fall not too far behind. 

His jaw locked slightly, his hands wrapping around your middle and pulling you closer to him as he, too, came. Deep within you, he pushed his seed further with a few extra thrusts before he was forced to stop due to the sensitivity of it all. 

With his last remaining energy, he lifted you up and set you down on the bed next to him. He hovered over you a second later, wrapping your legs around his waist as he nuzzled his head in between the space of your neck and shoulder. “I love you so much,” he whispered in between peppered kisses to your sweaty skin. “Thank you for always making me feel like the most important person, everyday.”

You ran your fingers through his damp and messy hair, playing with the curls as a smile formed on your lips. “You are the most important person,” you reminded him, kissing him quickly before wrapping your arms around him and pulling him further down onto you. “And I love you, too.”

[suempu]

Hi!! First of all absolutely love your writting <3 Can I ask for Chilchuck x fem tall Human reader when they both get drunk together for the first time and things get handsy, If you could do nsfw headcanons it would be perfect, thanks a lot!! :D

thank you so much for the kind words, i really appreciate all the support :’D!!!

unestablished relationship + tw: alcohol

<3

it was a few days after laios’ formal coronation, and the party decided to have a casual celebration in one of the palace’s common rooms.

there must be something special in the way they brew royal wine since even chilchuck, the experienced alcoholic, had already been wasted from the 3rd bottle.

your friends was scattered all around, with senshi dozing off on a chair, laios falling into a food coma, marcille and falin mumbling dazily among themselves.

in the far corner, you and chilchuck were drunkenly snickering to yourselves. everything was so groggy and warm, you couldn’t help but laugh and peck his forehead while he was showing you the different bottles and labels.

“you’re so cute. i don’t think i’ve ever told you that.” giggling, you smother him in hugs.

he grumbles, trying to shake off your hold, “stop treating me like i’m a kid!”

“so cute and handsome… always so good with your hands…” you mumble, not hearing a word he’s said as you rub your cheeks together.

chilchuck stops for a moment after that, and he thinks he might’ve sobered up before he starts mouthing your face in a daze. pressing his lips against your soft skin, mindlessly nosing into you with half lidded eyes and flushed cheeks.

you both look crazy right now, warm air and fuzzy tension as you snort at his silent nuzzling, the blush on your cheeks only getting redder.

“i think… you’re pretty… uh, cute too.” he murmurs, making you gasp dramatically. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and squealed, “stop, you’re gonna make me fall in love.”

chilchuck snickers, not at all minding how he’s nestled on your chest. in a bold act under the alcohol’s influence, he snickers before leaning up to your head, pressing a light kiss to your cheek.

“what if i did this?” another peck, “or this?” another smooch, “in love with me yet?” he teases.

the situation escalated pretty quickly once you decided that it was a competition. simple kisses turned into a full blown makeout session.

you both were riding the highs of doing such a lewd act while your friends were in the room, although passed out.

chilchuck had his knees up on the sofa, hands resting on your hips and waist as yours were on his hair and shoulders.

occasionally, you’d lean away breathless and panting for air while chuckling to each other, not thinking of the consequences that will come in the morning.

chilchuck kisses lazily, fingers trailing all over your body, from your sides to your stomach, and even cheekily poking and prodding near your chest.

meanwhile your hands were busy tugging at his hair and messing it up, your other one busying themselves with running up and down his abdomen, making him shiver and groan into your mouth.

no hickeys were formed though, he only sucked and nipped at your shoulder and neck but it wasn’t enough to leave a mark.

hours later the party woke up to half of your body hanging off the sofa while chilchuck’s face was hidden in your stomach, hugging your waist and cuddling you.

the whole morning was spent ignoring their constant teasing.

[gegewrites]

Harvey (SDV)- One Glass Was all it Took (SMUT)

Hi, just dropping off this fanfic for you. Eat it up. hope yall enjoy I started this legit at 10am TODAY. This is the fastest I’ve written in a bit and the first fic I’ve finished in months (I’m so sorry)

The Harvey brain rot is real.

4-7-24

5.2k words

Your pov-

The sun was setting and I was relaxing on the porch swing, looking at the sky changing colors. It was a relaxing day, it rained in the morning, which made it easy to pet and collect from the animals, but annoying to  harvest the crops that were ready. It stopping raining at about four, and by then I was already done for the day. I contemplated going fishing or heading to the mines for a few hours to make up some of that wasted time but I ended up just cleaning and re-arranging some of the house. The birds were singing, still warm out but a cool breeze drifted through the trees. It was perfect out. 

"Enjoying the sunset?" I heard Harvey ask, I looked over and he was by the produce bin. I wasn't expecting him at all.

"Yeah, so pretty tonight." I smiled. He didn't come up into the porch, he leaned against the railing in front of me, a bottle of wine in hand being held out to me.

"I had to go to Zuzu City today, I picked this up on my way out. Think you'll enjoy it." He smiled as I leaned off the swing and grabbed it from him.

"This is my job." I giggled. It's a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, the label boasting a 10 year age and top quality French grapes.

"Just a little bit of payback for all the stuff you've brought me." He smiled,"I-"

"Should I get glasses?" I asked,"you don't have to leave so soon do you?"

"I can stay for a bit." He leaned off the railing as I stood up.

"Perfect, come in."

Half and hour later-

"…Just a bunch of city and small town doctors and donors looking to shell out money. If I was convincing enough hopefully a few donors will step up and donate some money to the clinic.” He took a sip from his glass and looked at me,” It's a decent drive to the city, i don’t mind it. I use to intern at the Zuzu hospital, but when I heard they didn't have a doctor in this town, that the other towns also driving to the city for healthcare, I settled in." His eyes looked away from the now dusky blue sky and looked at him, which were watching him intently," why are you here? Besides your grandfathers passing, I don’t think you’ve told me.”

"I wasn't doing so well back home...so when we did get the news grandpa died my parents saw it as a way for me to get a new fresh start...and it worked, but boring I'll be honest. Three years, everyday almost the same." I shrugged my shoulders and finished the last of my glass. We both were only on the first glass, talking more than drinking.

"I get that. In a town so small it's easy to fall into a repetition...only reason why I've kept my car. I could sell it, put that money into the clinic, but when people in the outside towns needs assistance and they can't get here I get to switch it up and go to them."  He looked down at his glass and then back to me,"it's important to find joy in daily life, especially when you're life is a lot of physical work....its also important to find the time to relax."

"Yeah, but there's always something that has to get done over here or someone needs something." His hand came down and sat just above my knee.

"You need to start making time for yourself." His face was serious, but not scolding. His brows lightly furrowed together, but his eyes held a caring look.

"Doctors orders?" I smiled, a chuckle trailing behind the words and I felt my cheeks flush. Luckily it was darker out but the porch light was still on.

"Doctors orders." He smiled, his eye contact was held with mine. He did look like he was contemplating something, his eyes slightly looking down below mine before locking back with mine.

Usually it would take me a third glass to get the confidence to make any sort of move, but over the few years I've been here, the conversations we've had, professional settings and non professional, it gave me the confidence.

The swing wasn't big, our legs were comfortably touching, and his hand still sat on my leg. I pushed up just a bit, my lips connecting to his, my heart was pounding out of my chest, but he returned it quickly, the hand on my thigh came to my check and my heart rate relaxed a bit.  His mustache tickled my nose but I didn't mind it at all. We both tasted like wine and I heard his glass tink against the table in his side, his newly free hand softly held my other cheek, mine still holding my glass. He was the first to pull away from the slow kiss.

"(y/n)..."  he whispered before pulling back more and my heart sped up, awaiting rejection,"are you sure about this?"

"I've never been more sure of anything, Harvey." I replied quickly but not forcefully, he took the glass from my hand and placed it with his on the table behind him.

I could tell he was thinking, quickly contemplating the decisions he could make. He turned back to me, pushing his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.

"I'm a thirty four year old doctor stuck in place." His thumb brushed my cheek as he spoke.

"And im a twenty five year old who couldn't hold down a job long enough to have a chance to be stable." I confessed,"my last relationship ended with cops and a restraining order."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But (y/n), you said you're bored, you're bored here... I watch the history channel and live quietly."

"You don't get it, Harv. I'm bored cause I'm alone, everyday I wake up and it's just me, you're stuck in place cause it's just you. Don't humans need others around? We are social animals."  He let out a quiet and sharp exhale from him nose, hand still in my cheek that didn't even realize I've relaxed into.

"There are others-"

"Please Harvey, I've already tried, they've all got their own dreams in places I've already tried to live and couldn't....i want quiet but I don't wanna be alone."  His hand slid away from my cheek, just to hold onto my chin,"there's no reason to not try."

"You have to understand that I'm still your doctor and if it doesn't work-"

"If it doesn't work my ass Harvey." I grabbed lightly onto his other wrist,"I've never been more sure of anything.."I leaned forwards,"and you haven't been only  charging me half for no reason, don't think I haven't noticed. You can say you're not the right one but it's obvious Harv-"

He cut me off with his lips, his hand coming to my waste, pulling my body a bit closer to his. I kissed him back quickly not wasting any time, my body was twisted a bit, my hands held onto his jacket covered shoulders. Our lips moved in sync, tongues tangling with each other, heat and want radiating from the both of us.

My hand grabbed onto his tie as I slid off the swing and stood up, our lips didn't disconnect, his big hands sat on my waist as he sat up higher before standing. He was taller than me, so he was bowed down to keep the kiss going and my back pressed against the railing of the porch. He pulled away, and stood up straight, looking down at me. His hand left my waist and he pushed his glasses back up. God he was handsome.

I decided to ditch the glasses that were on  the table and lead him inside by his tie.

When we got to my bedroom he took off his jacket and I loosened his tie before I started undoing his belt while he kicked off his shoes. His hands coming to the bottom of my shirt, slipping it off of my body, dropping it to the floor as he walked me back, the back of my legs feeling the mattress and he unclipped my bra. My thighs pressed together a bit, feeling that pulse between my legs and myself getting wetter. He slid it down my arms and I sat down, his hands running down my body as he slowly got down onto his knees.

"This bruise is concerning."  He ran his thumb on the right side of my ribs and I rolled my eyes.

"I can't even feel it Harv." I rolled my eyes with a smile and cupped his cheek, his cheek and jaw was a bit tickly. He placed a kiss to the top of my chest, kissing my collarbones and then down between my breasts,"if you want to know it's from my goat getting too excited and accidentally butting me."

"I'm glad.." his hand cupped my breast, fingers massaging it, my nipple pressed into his palm as he placed a kiss on my other. My hand sat on the back of his neck, my nails lightly scratching his scalp, his shaggy hair between my fingers," it's nothing serious…but goats are pretty strong,” he looked up at me,”could’ve broken a rib.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as his lips returned to my breast. I propped up on my left arm, his tongue swirled around my nipple, teeth teasing it lightly and I grinded down to on the mattress from the pressure of need building up inside of me. While he places kisses to my breasts his hands came down and undid the button of my jeans, and unzipped them. He pushed up slightly placing a kiss on my sternum and I laid back on my forearm. He hooked his fingers into my jeans, I raised my hips a bit and he pulled them down slowly, my panties going with them. His eyes locked with mine, until the fabric fell to the floor, and now I was naked with him between my legs.

Both of us paused. Suddenly I wish I had drank another glass. His eyes trailed down my body, taking it in.

“Harvey?” I asked, and he looked up at me, his look alone told me I was the one feeling off.

“Sorry…taking it in now.” He pushed my thighs out, spreading my legs wider, and he grew taller, kneeling only on one knee now,”once these glasses come off I can’t exactly see you the best.”

I felt my face blush as his hand ran along the inside of my thigh, and my pussy tighten from his touch. It’s been awhile, a good four years since I’ve been with something other than a vibrator. I felt his thumb slide up my lips, feeling how wet I’ve gotten, then his thumb slipped between and immediately found my clit. My lips parted the moment his thumb pad touched my clit, he slowly and softly dragged his thumb in a circle against it and my head lulled back a bit and I let out a sigh. He trailed a few kisses on the inside of my thigh, mustache tickling and dragging against my skin. His thumb worked a bit faster and my thighs quivered a few times.

“Harvey please.” I pushed out with a breath and I heard him hum lightly. His thumb left my clit and I felt his middle finger circle my wet hole before dipping in causing a moan to rumble in my throat as I bit my lip. His fingers were nice, he had nice hands at that. His fingers were long kind of thick, but nimble none the less. He curled his finger to the curve of my walls as he slowly dragged it in and out. I didn’t realize where he was till I felt the left side of the bed dip a bit.

“Absolutely soaked.” He whispered into my ear and a shiver ran down my spine and I tightened around his finger,”you haven’t had anything in a while, huh?”

“Too busy..mm, too tired at the end of the day.” I answered, feeling him kiss my neck, his stubble scratching lightly at my skin.

He kissed my shoulder with a hum, his middle finger leaving me, but coming back with his ring finger in tow. His fingers slipped right back in, my head couldn’t help my fall back, the front of my neck completely bared to him. He curled his fingers to my anatomy again and he sped up the slightest. I could feel how wet I was, it was almost embarrassing, but come on…it’s Harvey.

My hips rolled into his palm and his fingers found my gspot, I bit down onto my lips, my eyes fell close.

“Right theere.” I moaned, and he changed his fingers positions, a deeper curl. I heard something light fall onto the bed and my eyes opened the littlest. I saw his glasses. I raised my head, timing perfectly with him lifting my left leg onto his shoulder. His stubble rubbing against the inside of my thigh, before feeling his tongue against my clit, he kept a steady pace and motion with his fingers. His tongue slowly lapped at my clit,my hand finding the top of his hair, not tugging but sitting in it, holding it out of his face. I was breathing heavy, breathy moans just slipping out. His lips latched on to clit, a mix of licking and sucking, making my body tense and my moans grow louder.

“Oh God.” I moaned out, my heel digging into his back just below his shoulder blade,”Fuuuck Harv.”

He pushed up onto the bed, his left arm wrapped around the front of my thigh, holding the inside of it with his hand and he pumped his fingers deeper and faster. I heard a groan erupt from him as his tongue dipped in with his fingers before sliding back to my clit, giving it a harsh suck. My hands gripped into his hair, my body pushing into his. My head felt light, my thigh tensing in his grip, being held open to avoid squeezing his head. The way he was circling, sucking, and licking my clit roughly paired with his fingers “come hither” and just how deep his fingers were inside of me I was on the verge of cumming. I could feel my slick dripping down my ass, definitely soaked in the comforter, my walls tightened around his fingers. My moans were more present, louder, and longer. My body felt like it was on fire in the best way possible.

“I’m gonna cum Harv.” I whined out, releasing his hair for a second before griping back on. My thighs started twitching and the upper half of my body curling forwards yet my head lulling back,”I’m gon-gonna cum baby.”

He didn’t change was he was doing, and my toes curled, my eyes rolling back, my teeth digging into my bottom lip as my body tightened. that knot in my abdomen snapping, cumming on his fingers. We kept his pace steady as I rode out my release, only slowing down when I started whimpering and hips near spasming into his face.

I fell onto my back, as his fingers slid out of my pussy, his tongue lapping up my release. His hand left the inside of my thigh, and I heard his glasses drag towards him, before wrapping around it again. He placed a kiss to the inside of my thigh, his mustache wet. I was catching my breath, coming back to reality when my thigh dropped from his shoulder and I felt his thumb swipe across my bottom lip. I opened them and his finger laid on my tongue, I closed my lips around them, cleaning my cum off of them.

I opened my eyes when he slid his fingers out of my mouth. He was standing in front of the bed, looking down at my pussy, the bulge in his dark brown corduroys prominent. I sat up, and pulled him to me by his tie, kissing him heatedly, tasting myself on his tongue. My fingers started undoing the buttons of his shirt, tugging it out of jeans and pulling away from him, a light bite dragging his lip before letting go. His lips were pink, so was his face. He undid his tie enough to get it off over his head and took off his long sleeve as I placed kisses down his stomach, slowly unzipping his pants.

He wasn’t a “fit” man, he had a dad bod but no kids(not yet), but he was attractive and sexy as hell nonetheless. He brushed the hair out of my face as I kissed down his happy trail. I slid down to my knees and he took a step back. I looked up at him through my lashes as I hooked my fingers into the waist on his pants and boxer band, and slid them down. His cock sprung out and I stopped pulling down his pants. He was decent size, long enough to where he wouldn’t be able to get all of it in but most, but he was thick. It made sense for a man as meaty as he is.

I kissed up his thigh, which had impeccable grinding quality. His fingers carded through my hair, my hands sat on his hips as I kissed up his body till I was standing, a bit wobbly, but his hand came around to my back.

“I wanna ride you.” I kissed his chest and he chuckled, his hand sat on the side of my neck and lower part of my jaw, his thumb brushed over my jaw, before he angled my face to look up at him.

“You can, but you have to go easy.” I gave him a pouty furrowed brow look and he smirked with fondness,”you haven’t had sex in awhile. Feeling how tight you were-and just with fingers, you have to take it easy.”

“You saying I’m too small for your cock, Doctor?” I whispered intimately and I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on my tippy toes, my chest pressing into his, his cock pressed against the front of my thigh. His face flushed even more as his hands held onto my waist. My hand came around to the back of his head and I pulled his head closer to mine and I whispered,”guess it’s a good thing I’m absolutely soaked for you.”

He let out a breath I don’t think he realized he was holding in and I lowered down onto my soles. He hasn’t gotten a moment to speak, this pussy has his tongue caught. My fingers dragging against his skin as I backed up and crawled onto the bed. I propped up onto my arms, facing him, and spread my legs open, my heels stable on the edge of the bed.

“Do you wanna be the one to stretch this pussy then?” It looked like his brain stopped working for a second, before has hand gripped onto his cock, his tongue quickly swiping along the bottom of his top lip and he smirked lightly, more adoration then the lust his eyes held.

“I probably shouldn’t, no condoms.” He crossed his arms, oh he looked good.

“What did you go into the city and fuck a stripper?” I joked and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“We’re unprotected.” His hands moved to his waist and I looked at him with a dumbfounded look.

“Harvey…you’re the dude who gives me my birth control every month.” He rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses.

“I’m aware of that, It’s still unsafe nonetheless.” His hands sat on my knees before grabbing the back of my calves.

“Live a little, just for tonight.” His grip tightened on my calves and he looked to the side and then back to me before pulling me edge of the bed, I fell onto my back as he held my calfs on his waist, his cock sitting right over my soaking cunt. His head tapping against it as it bounced lightly.

“For tonight.” His hand let go of my calf and I held it against his waist. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and his caressed my cheek, him thumb brushed against the cheek bone. He used that same hand to drag the head of his cock between my slick lips, running it against my clit, then rubbing his tip against my needy hole, he watched his cock slide between my lips before he looked up at me.

“Need a pillow.” I quickly grabbed the fluffiest one from behind me and handed it to him. I tightens my legs around him but he peeled them off,”where’s your bathroom?”

“Why?” I asked sitting up.

“Just need a towel.” I just fell in love with him. Luckily there was a bathroom in my bedroom so I pointed to the door and he walked over. Man has a nice ass, he is just good looking in general.

He came back with one of my thick towels, dark grey. He folded it into two and put it over the towel. I laid back down, holding my knees close to my chest and he grabbed my calf’s, spreading my legs and placing my lower half onto the pillow.

“That’s better.” His hands guided my legs around his waist, spitting into his palm and stroking his cock. I swallowed and bit down onto my lower lip as he stroked his cock through my lips. He was right, this angle felt better. His tip circled my entrance and he looked at me,”you ready?”

“Mmhmm.” I nodded and he paused for a moment before he started pushing the tip in. I immediately gripped onto the mattress below me my eyes squeezing shut, he was so right. He always right.

“I think I-“ he stopped pushing in mid tip.

“No no, just keep going…Fuck Harv.”

“Just tell me if it hurts, I’ll go easy.” He started pushing it in again. My walls stretching around him yet clamping down on him. It was a mix of absolute pleasure and pain. A deep throaty grain erupted out of his chest, I opened my eyes to see his head tilted back before coming back to look down at his cock stretching into me. I when he bottomed he pressed deeper into me and pushed out a shakey moan from my lips.

He stopped for a moment, giving my body a chance to relax around him, his hand ran up and down my thigh comfortingly as I breathed in and out, my brows twisted together.

“Move, please” I said softly and he did just that, he slowly slid his cock out of me, even his tip, and slid it back inside. Another moan left my left, my lips stayed open as he pushed in deeper this time, pulling out to his tip and pushing back in. He kept it slow and steady, listening to the whines and groans that fell from my lips.

“Shit (y/n).” He groaned out, I felt his thumb press against my clit, rubbing tight and slow circle against it, my legs tightening around his waist. He moved his hips a bit faster, his cock dragging against my walls. His thumb abandoned my clit, and his hands grabbed onto my hips, holding them tightly, fingertips pressing deeply into my ass.

“Fuck me Harvey.” I breathed out.

“How do you want it, darling?” I pressed my lips together and a small giggle sounded in my throat from the pet name that fell from his lips, I felt my body curl a bit as his hand touched my check. His tone was as smooth as whiskey dripping with lust,”tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

“Faster…” I swallowed and took a breath, my voice a bit shakey,”and deeper.”

His movements did become a bit faster, still focused on not hurting me, but he did pressed his cock deeper into me on each thrust.

“Good good.” My lips fell open as he started thrusting harder, his tip starting to hit that spot in me,”oooh yess.”

“found it?”

“Uuhuh.” I moaned, and he thrusted his tip against it again, but harder, to confirm and it was confirmed with an unsolicited moan.

“You’re taking me so well, (y/n). So daaamn good.” He groaned, his thrusts stayed sharp and even but he sped up more, rocking his hips into my pelvis. I tightened around him getting lost in the feeling of his tip sliding through my walls, the sound of his skin now slapping against mine, and the way groans and light moans fell from his lips. My heels dug into his back and his name trailed out of my lips. I felt my slick drip down my ass and into the towel, hearing how wet his motions sound now. I felt his body lean forwards, his thrusts kept steady, but slowed down a bit, fucking deeply into me, his cock grinding perfectly against my g-spot now.

“Oooh! Har-Harvey!” I loudly moaned out, it didn’t hurt, well a little bit, but it felt too good to complain. He was tall so his forearms laid flat on the bed trapping my head. He placed a kiss on my forehead, my hands wrapping around his back and gripping onto his shoulders. I couldn’t help but moan Into his ear, erotic moans falling from my lips as my pussy got wetter.

“Such a good girl. Taking my cock like this.” He strained out, my nails were digging into his skin as he sped up more. My eyes clamped shut, sob like moans ripping out of my throat, that heat building up in my lower abdomen telling me I was the verge of spilling over.

“Ha-Harvey,” I breathed out, my words whined ,”I’m gon-I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum on my cock, darling.” He groaned into my ear. His breath was hot against my skin, and the erotic groans falling from his lips were a perfect music to my ears. My left hand slid off his back, and I felt his weight shift, and I peeled my eyes open. He didn’t have his glasses on, and he was propped up on left arm, his right hand went back to my pussy, his hand pressed down on my pelvis, his thumb rubbing my clit quickly.

“Harvey! Aaaah fuuuuck!” My back arched up and a moan tore out of me, as my orgasm ripped through me. I saw starbursts behind my closed eyes, a rush of heat covering my whole body as it tensed up. My walls clamped around him as my right hands nails scraping against his back and he let out a strained groan.

“That’s it…That’s it.” He cooed, and I felt

His cock twitch inside of me as he fucked me through my high.

He kept his pace as steady as he could, going back to standing, his thumb abandoned my clit. I looked at him with heavy lids, watching his face,his glasses were back on, his lips were parted and his eyes watched his cock thrust in and out of me , and how his hands gripped onto my thighs.

“Come on Harv.” My tone tripped with ecstasy, as I propped up on my arms a bit to watch him and his body better, his eyes met mine, half lidded, before looking down, watching the way my chest moved from his thrusts,”cum for me Harvey.”

I felt his cock twitch more inside of me, his thrust still felt good and I couldn’t help but moan.

“Fuck.” He groaned out, his neck straining, his body tightening, and I bit my lip at the sight of him on the verge of coming undone, but there was something holding him back, himself really.

“You-you can cum inside of me Harv..” I breathed out and swallowed and he locked his eyes with mine,”you can cum wherever.”

I relaxed my legs grip on his waist, and with those words he finally came undone. He slid out of me quickly, his hand stroking his cock roughly, spirting white cum onto my stomach. His head lulled back as he stroked his cock, slowing it down that last bit dripped down the bottom of his head and onto my stomach.

He breathed heavily as my legs fell from his waist and he sat down in the edge of the bed and fell into his back next to me. I closed my legs and r looked up and over at him, hand on his chest, catching his breath. I kissed his shoulder and he looked over at me, a blissed out look on his face and I smiled.

“You got game Harv.” I giggled and looked down at my stomach, and he sat up.

“I’ll get you cleaned up.” He leaned to me and placed a kiss on my lips before standing up, and proceeded to do just that.

The next day, noon

Harvey slept over last night, but when I woke up at six he was already gone, there was a note on the kitchen table in his hand writing that advised me to hydrate and thanking me for the good night. The wine glasses that were left outside were clean and on the drying rack as well. I had already gotten what I had to get done outside done, but it was another rainy day, absolutely down pouring. I had to change my clothes even though I had on my rain jacket, so I decided today would be a day that I would take to myself.

I was laying in the couch reading, some cable show playing on the tv. My reading was interrupted by a knock on the door, so I placed my marker in the book and got up quickly and headed to the door. I unlocked it and opened it.

“Hi.” Harvey smiled, one hand held a soaked umbrella, his other was behind his back.

“That umbrella didn’t do you too well.” I giggled, seeing the rain spots on his button up, he looked at his shirt and chuckled.

“I guess not, at least I’m not soaked though…I’m sorry I walked out early, there was a shipment coming to the clinic at six thirty I had to be there for.” He explained.

“That’s alright, thanks for cleaning the glasses.” I wasn’t in front of the doorway he could walk in but he hasn’t,”what do you need Harv?”

“I…I wanted to give you this.” The hand that was behind his back came out and revealed a gorgeous bouquet. My lips fell over in shock and soon those like formed the biggest smile. My cheeks flushed as I took it from him, I looked at it for a few seconds before looking back at him,”you’re right…maybe this could work.”

[branded-rose]

“So I was like, ‘Yeah it was great, call you later!’ And I am TOTALLY not gonna call. She wanted to do the lamest positions EVER- What?” Adam tossed a grape into his mouth as he noticed Lute stop what she was doing.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I saw your head shake! I saw your eyes roll.” He ate another grape as Lute sighed and set the dish down in the soapy water.

“Sir, there isn’t any point in bringing up something we’ve disagreed about at length before.” She turned back to the sink, flipping on the faucet.

“AHA! I @#$%#@ knew it! This is because you think sex HAS to have a purpose. You can totally @##$ and it not mean anything. I do it all the time.” Adam finished off the last of his grapes before grabbing a wine bottle and digging around in the drawer for his corkscrew.

“Besides, you’re just saying that because you’re the most virgin angel in Heaven. You’d change your tune REAL quick Dangertits if you had experience~” The cork flew across the kitchen, narrowly missing his lieutenant’s wing by a hair.

Lute pressed her lips together, puffing her cheeks as she tried to formulate a response.

“Uh-SIR! What are you doing??”

“Getting a drink, I’m thirsty. You want some?” He poured himself some wine, turning to see Lute shooting him a look and motioning pointedly to the glass in the dish drainer.

“I just washed the one from dinner.”

“Uh-huh. Looks great.”

Lute looked at him flatly. She then tossed a towel at him, motioning towards the dishes that were on the rack.

“Then you shouldn’t mind drying them.” She pushed her sleeves up, setting back to work.

Adam regarded the towel flatly, sipping his wine before moving to lean on the counter next to her.

“Quit changing the subject. What’s stopping you anyway?”

“From what?”

“Sex. What’s stopping you? And don’t tell me you buy into all that lovey-dovey ‘I’m waiting for the right guy’ bull.” He set his wine glass aside.

“We’ve had this conversation before-” 

“Yeah, ages ago. Come on. What’s stopping you?” he repeated. 

Lute lifted a plate from the water and brought it close to her face, using her nail to try and dislodge whatever dried on food had stubbornly tried to reside on the ceramic. When she was satisfied, she returned it to the water, sighing when she realized she had to actually consider Adam’s question.

“Sex won’t help me protect Heaven more.” Simple.

“But what if it did? What if your virginity was stopping you from being the baddest @#$%#@ this side of Heaven?” He took the plate, setting it on the counter.

Lute arched a brow, pausing in her work and resting a hand on her hip.

“I thought I already was?”

“Then what? You’re scared?”

Lute scoffed at the notion.

“I fear nothing.” She turned back to the sink, running the plate under the water to rinse it off. She then held the plate out for Adam to take, nodding towards the towel he had unceremoniously discarded on the countertop.

“Then what the @#$% is it? Cause I’m not buying it.” He took the plate, looking at it for half a second before setting it down next to the towel.

She sighed deeply as she returned her attention to the remaining dishes, her eye catching the one she had tried to hand him.

“The moment hasn’t ever come up.” She picked the plate off of the counter, once more holding it out for him to take. Which he did, only to put it right back down.

“That’s because you don’t KNOOOW what you’re missing. The moment could be right there and you’d have NO idea.” He snorted.

“Sir.” Lute picked up theplate, again.

“What?” He scooted towards her, returning the ceramic dish to the counter.

“Will you just dry the @#$%$@ plate?”

“Why? Frustrating you or something? Hmm?”

Lute closed her eyes and pressed her lips together as she gripped the edge of the sink. After a moment, she exhaled deeply through her nose, her face heating up as she felt his breath hot against her neck.

“…Adam.”

“Lute.” His smirk widened as the golden hue spread across her cheeks. He then leaned in closer, his forehead just barely touching hers.

“This enough of a moment?”

Lute swallowed. “Sir, are you… coming onto me?”

“I dunno. You want me to be?” He reached over and grabbed his long since forgotten about wine, taking a sip as he backed up.

She considered the question for a long moment before she reached over, taking the plate off of the counter a final time. She pushed it at him, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

“I want you to dry the plate.”

--------------------------------------

I return from like a 800 year hiatus to post this monstrosity because... I am so intrigued by the concept of these horrible angels doing the most mundane of things.

Also there is just something a bit oxymoronic to me about a show about redemption having irredeemable characters such as these. That alone makes them interesting and I hope at the very least LUTE is explored more in season 2.

Adam & Lute © Vivziepop/A24

Artwork © Branded-Rose

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part Five

Pairings: Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Angst, smuuuuutttttt, bucky and you dumb affffff and will continue to be dumb affff lol

A/N: I will be updating my masterlist to link it below so you dont have to search for the other parts!

As you walked in a clicked the door shut, placing your keys in the bowl, that had little flowers painted all over it your heart clenched, Bucky made it to you is some ceramics class he took so he could make you a birthday gift that was extra special, you sighed pulling out your phone to text Steve: Made it home safe.

Your phone chimed back almost instantly: Good. Was worried about you.

As you made your way down the hallway, your hand lingered on your door as you stared at Bucky's door, which was across from yours "Stop it" You mumbled to yourself, you shut your door behind you a little too fast as you typed out: Thanks for always being there Stevie.

It said Read as soon as the message sent and the bubbled popped up: Always. Get some rest, okay?

I'll try, Dont drink too much beer, someone told me its not good for your health ;) night

-- Ha ha, whoever said that sounds like a smart guy... Goodnight :)

You laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind a chaotic mess of thoughts you can’t quiet. You’ve been tossing and turning for what feels like hours, every second dragging painfully slowly. Your heart twists with questions and doubt, replaying all the subtle moments with Bucky—moments you were so sure meant something more. Had you read all the signs wrong? All this time, you thought there was something unspoken between you, something lingering just beneath the surface. But now, with Kate in the picture, that hope feels like it’s slipping away, leaving you feeling vulnerable and maybe a little foolish.

You’re still caught up in the whirlwind of your thoughts when you hear the front door click shut. Bucky is back. Only one pair of footsteps echoes through the quiet apartment, and you exhale softly. Kate isn’t with him.

You listen as his footsteps draw closer down the hall, your heart pounding as they slow right outside your door. You hold your breath, half-wanting to call out, half-terrified of what he might say.

After a moment, his soft voice breaks the silence. “Doll…you awake?”

You bite your lip, staying silent, your eyes squeezed shut as if that might make the whole situation disappear.

There’s a long pause, and then you hear him sigh. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” His voice is barely a whisper, laced with regret. You hear him linger for a beat longer before the quiet click of his bedroom door closing.

Your heart sinks, and you lie there, sleepless and aching, until exhaustion finally wins over.

When you wake the next morning, the apartment is still and quiet. You glance across the hall, hearing no sounds from Bucky’s room. Thank God. You don’t know how you’d face him just yet, so you dress quickly, grab your things, and slip out of the apartment, practically fleeing as if it were on fire.

The early morning air is crisp, waking you up fully as you make your way to your usual spots. You grab a coffee, linger at the bookstore for a while, and then pick up a bottle of wine for girls’ night, something you’re now very much looking forward to. On a whim, you swing by your favourite bakery, grabbing a big bag of donuts, hoping it’ll be a welcome surprise.

By the time you reach Wanda and Natasha’s apartment, it’s still early, and you can almost hear Wanda’s sleepy grumble before you even knock. After a few moments, the door creaks open, and Wanda appears, rubbing her eyes, looking as if she’s just rolled out of bed.

She blinks at you, her voice drowsy. “You’re about five hours too early for girls’ night,” she mumbles with a yawn.

You laugh, lifting the bag of donuts. “I come bearing gifts!”

Her eyes light up at the sight, and she grins. “Screw girls’ night. This is now a girls’ day.” She opens the door wide, ushering you inside with a grin.

You gather around the kitchen table, mugs of coffee in hand as you tear into the donuts. It doesn’t take long for the questions to start, Wanda eyeing you carefully between bites.

“So,” Wanda begins, her voice casual but with that all-too-knowing glint in her eye. “What’s going on with you and Barnes?”

You let out a heavy sigh, and Wanda's face softened , as if sensing just how much you’ve needed this. “It’s…complicated,” you admit, glancing down at your coffee. “I thought…I thought there was something between us, you know? And after all these years.... But now, with Kate…I don’t know anymore, i dont think i ever did"

Wanda frowns, reaching out to pat your hand. “Maybe he’s just as mixed up as you are,” she offers gently. “Bucky’s not exactly known for being straightforward about his feelings.”

“Yeah, but after all this time…” you trail off, feeling the weight of all those quiet hopes and missed chances.

Wanda shakes her head, determination flaring in her eyes. “Look, you deserve someone who knows exactly what he wants and isn’t afraid to show it, and its girls day anyway, forget about those stupid boys!"

You raise your coffee cup in agreement. “To girls’ day,” you declared, grinning. “Where we eat donuts, drink wine way too early, and forget about all confusing men for a while.” You clink your coffee mugs together, laughter filling the room. And as the morning stretches into afternoon, with stories and laughter, you find yourself able to breathe a little easier.

---

Later that day, Steve, Bucky, and Sam were sprawled around Steve’s living room, beers in hand, the low murmur of a football game playing in the background. It was guys’ night, meant to be an escape, but the tension in the air was hard to ignore.

After a sip, Sam shot Bucky a look. “So…how’s she doing?” he asked, referring to you, tone casual, but with an underlying hint of curiosity.

Bucky shifted in his seat, his jaw tightening. “She was asleep when I got back from the bar last night,” he muttered. “And gone before I woke up. Hasn’t been answering any of my texts.” He rubbed a hand over his face, clearly frustrated.

Sam snorted, shaking his head. “Can you blame her?”

Bucky gave a weak chuckle, but his shoulders slumped. “I know,” he sighed, glancing away. “Nat gave me an earful last night.”

Steve groaned, rolling his eyes as he leaned forward. “Do you really get it, Buck? Do you know how amazing she is? She’s been there for us, for you through everything—through all the moves, the close calls, every rough patch. She’s loyal, funny, strong, and—she’s beautiful, Bucky. Inside and out.” His voice softened. “She’s always been there, right there pal.”

Realisation flickered across Sam’s face watching the way Steve talked about you piecing together how he was when he rushed out the night before to chase after you and the way he wouldn't let his phone lock till you said you made it home safe, while Bucky stared into his drink, his usual swagger deflated. He stood up to grab another beer, muttering to himself, “If I didn’t know any better, Steve, I’d say you were in love with her.”

As the words left his mouth, the room went silent, the no response was a response enough. Bucky froze, beer forgotten, as he shut the fridge door and peered at Steve. “You…you’re in love with her?”

Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding Bucky’s eyes. “Man…can you blame me? After all these years? Are you telling me you’re not?”

Bucky blinked, taken aback. He shook his head slowly, in disbelief. “I mean, I knew you had a crush on her back in junior high. But come on, everyone did.”

Sam, leaning back on the couch, gave Steve a knowing look. “So, why didn’t you make a move, Rogers?”

Steve shrugged, his eyes distant. “Come on, you know why, Sam.”

Sam nodded, understanding why because well he tried but after looking, really looking he could tell your heart was tied up elsewhere, and Steve glanced at Bucky, a faint apology in his gaze. “Look, Buck, I didn’t mean to drop that on you. I’m sorry, pal, its just i dont get you man”

Bucky hesitated, the gears visibly turning in his mind. “Are…are you still in love with her?”

Steve let out a sigh, giving a small, wistful smile. “She was the first girl I ever fell in love with, Buck. Part of me probably always will be. But y’know she's my best friend and you're my best friend too…” His voice softened, a bit nostalgic, and understanding as he met Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky shifted, brows drawn, processing Steve’s words. “Does she know?”

Steve shook his head with a dry chuckle, and Sam cut in, rolling his eyes. “She’s as blind as you, Buck. God, you two are just—two peas in a pod.” Sam raised his beer, a grin spreading on his face. “Here’s to that.”

Steve chuckled, raising his own beer. “I’ll toast to that.”

Bucky frowned, folding his arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve leaned forward, looking Bucky dead in the eye. “Look, punk, that girl’s been head-over-heels in love with you since we were kids. Anyone with two eyes can see it. And you? You’ve been playing this back-and-forth with her for years—whether you know it or not. I know you’d never hurt her on purpose, but come on, man. You’ve gotta stop doing this.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, a mix of frustration and longing crossing his face. His gaze dropped, his voice almost a whisper. “I fell in love with her the first day I saw her, when we fought over the swings in kindergarten” He smiled softly “Ive never, never loved her”

Sam groaned, throwing his hands up. “Then what the hell’s stopping you, Buck? She’s right there, man! You know how many people search their whole lives for ‘the one’? And she’s been there all along!”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his voice barely more than a growl. “I know, Sam. Don’t you think I know?”

Steve shook his head, exasperated but with a hint of a smile. “Then what the heck are you waiting for?”

Bucky looked at both of them, the weight of years of history and feelings settling over him “Something happened in college”

---

Just as you finish setting out the wine glasses, Natasha walks in, kicking off her shoes with a groan. “Finally!” she exclaims, collapsing onto the couch. “Rough day. I need a drink and a plan for tomorrow. We’re going all out for your date.”

You laugh, topping off Natasha’s glass. “Already on it. Tomorrow, we’re going shopping for a new dress. And then Saturday, you’re kicking Bucky and the boys out of the apartment, and we’re having girls’ day to get you ready.”

Wanda grins, chiming in, “And fingers crossed, maybe you won’t come back. You’ll be over at Dean’s, if you know what I mean” she wiggled her eyebrows

You roll your eyes, groaning. “Slow down, Wanda! Not so fast!”

Wanda tilts her head with a teasing look. “Speaking of which, when was the last time you even got close to any action? You’re never with anyone, not even back in college!”

Natasha leans in, smirking. “Don’t tell me we’ve been getting all the action while you’re at home alone with a favourite vibrator or something....unless you've been hiding a double life this whole time" She winked

You sputter mid-sip, choking on your wine as the other two crack up. Laughing, you shake your head. “I mean… there was… one time.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming. “Excuse me? Who? You never told me this.”

Wanda, leans closer “Come on, spill. Who was it?”

You sigh, feeling the warmth in your cheeks. “Okay, okay….do you guys remember that party John Walker threw in our third year?”

Wanda’s eyes widen. “Oh, how could I forget? Natasha jumped from the balcony into the pool, and I nearly had a heart attack!”

Natasha laughs, looking delighted at the memory. “Best party of college. But wait… I remember after that, we couldn’t find you anywhere. We looked for ages and got really worried.” Her expression shifts, suspicion dawning in her eyes. “Wait. Whose room did you disappear to that night?”

Wanda’s jaw drops, and she leans forward, her eyes alight with excitement. “Oh, this is gonna be good. Tell me it was someone we know! Oh my god was it Tony?!”

They start tossing out names: “Steve?” “Sam? No he was already gone” “That guy in your English Lit class?” “Oh my god it had to have been that exchange student, with the long blonde hair -- he looked like a god and he was so into you!”

You finish your wine, swallowing before glancing meaningfully at Natasha, that was one of your favourite things about your relationship with her, the way you both could just almost telepathically speak to one another.

Natasha’s eyes widen, her mouth dropping open in shock. “No, nuh huh! No way.”

Wanda looks between the two of you, completely lost. “What? I’m missing something here!”

Natasha, still staring at you in disbelief, finally speaks, her voice low. “Bucky?”

You nod, cheeks burning as Wanda promptly spits out her wine, sputtering in shock. “You’re kidding!”

“Not at all,” you admit. “We… never talked about it again. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even remember it was me.”

Natasha’s expression softens. “You don’t have to tell us the story if you don’t want to.”

But you just give a little nod, ready to finally let it out. “It was after you jumped off the balcony into the pool, I decided I should probably check on the boys especially if that's what you were doing” You laughed shaking your head “Bucky and I… we did a couple of shots….and there was this… moment.”

Natasha and Wanda exchange glances, both of them leaning in, wide-eyed as you begin to share the story of that unexpected, unforgettable night.

The party is in full swing, laughter and music echoing throughout the dimly lit house. You stumble out of the crowded living room, laughter bubbling in your chest as you weave through the throng of bodies.

You spot Bucky on the far side of the room, his broad shoulders hunched over as he leans against the wall, a beer in hand. He's wearing that classic, easy grin that makes your heart race.

With a few drinks in you, your inhibitions are low. You move toward him, your steps unsteady but filled with purpose. "Hey, Barnes," you say, your voice a playful challenge. "Having fun?"

Bucky's smile widens, and his blue eyes sparkle with mischief. "Just trying to keep an eye on the chaos. You know how it gets at these things." He gestures toward the crowd where Steve has just attempted to do a keg stand, much to everyone's delight.

“You’re telling me, Nat just jumped from the balcony into the pool” You gesture with your hands to the backyard, you could tell that he was worried by the look that washed over his face “She's okay, its Nat, Wanda on the other hand almost had a heart attack”

“God, she's insane!” He laughed, finishing his drink.

“Yeah, after that i decided to come check on my boys”

“Your boys hey?” He half smiled, his eyes piercing into yours

You laugh, leaning closer to him, the warmth of his body drawing you in. "Yeah my boys” You shoved him lightly, feeling anxious all of a sudden “Want another drink?" He nods, and together, you slip into the kitchen. The room is quiet here, and the air is filled with the sweet smell of spilled cocktails and the faint scent of something baking in the oven.

You pour two shots of something strong, handing one to Bucky. "To surviving another wild night," he toasts, clinking your glass against his.

"Cheers," you giggle, and you both down the shots, the liquor burning pleasantly on the way down. You pour another round, the world around you blurring into a warm haze.

As the night wears on, you find yourselves retreating to a quieter corner, sharing stories and laughter, the tension between you thickening like the air before a storm. "You know, I always thought you were kind of a dork," you tease, nudging him playfully.

"Yeah? And what do you think now?" he asks, leaning closer, the playful spark in his eyes deepening.

"I think you're a charming, more sophisticated dork," you say softly giggling. But then all of a sudden the moment shifts, when Bucky's face stays serious even with your giggles. The laughter fades, replaced by something heavier, more charged.

Bucky's gaze drops to your lips, and you feel your heart racing. "I could say the same about you, you’re a dork too…" he murmurs, and you can't help but feel drawn to him. He reaches out, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary “But I always thought you were the most beautiful girl in any room, like thats my best friend, couldn't believe it, still cant” The air crackles between you, and suddenly, the noise of the party fades away.

You find yourself leaning in, breathless, and Bucky meets you halfway. His lips are warm and slightly rough against yours, igniting a fire in your veins. You kiss him back, deepening the connection, your hands finding their way to his neck, pulling him closer.

As the kiss intensifies, you feel the world spin away, leaving just the two of you in this moment. Bucky's hands slide to your waist, fingers digging into your sides, anchoring you against him.

He pulls you closer, and the heat of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine. "Let's get out of here," he whispers against your lips, his breath hot and inviting.

You nod, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. He takes your hand, leading you through the house, away from the noise and chaos. You finally reach a door at the end of the hall. Bucky opens it, and you step into his dimly lit room.

As soon as the door closes, he's on you again, kissing you fiercely, as if he's been waiting for this moment as long as you have. The bed looms behind him, a tempting promise of what's to come.

Bucky's hands roam over your body, exploring with an urgency that sends your heart racing. "Are you sure about this doll?" he asks, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, the sincerity in his gaze grounding you.

"I am," you breathe, and that's all the reassurance he needs.

With a shared breath, he pushes you gently back toward the bed, and you sink onto the soft sheets.

He follows, his body a comforting weight above you as he kisses you again, slower this time, exploring the taste of each other like it's a secret.

The world outside fades completely as you lose yourselves in each other, fingers tangling in hair, the soft sounds of your breaths and whispered names filling the room. Bucky's hands slide beneath your shirt, his touch igniting a fire on your skin as he revels in the curves and contours of your body. You arch into him, craving more.

"You feel so good," he murmurs against your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

The sound of his voice, thick with desire, sends waves of heat crashing over you. "Bucky," you gasp, feeling bold as you pull him down to kiss him again, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

He responds with a low growl, pressing into you, the friction driving you wild. "Are we really doing this?" he asks, his voice thick, almost reverent.

"Yes," you whisper, and it's like a spell has been cast. He grins, and the world melts away as you lose yourselves in each other, bodies entwined, hearts racing, as the night unfolds in a flurry of passion and warmth.

"You have no idea doll, no idea...." He whispers before diving back in, time loses all meaning, the night stretching on until exhaustion pulls you both under, and as sleep claims you, the last thing you feel is the warmth of Bucky's body next to yours, a content sigh escaping his lips.

The next morning, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. You blink against it, slowly waking up to the warmth of Bucky beside you, still fast asleep. For a moment, you let yourself soak in the sight of him, the softness of his face, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. But then it hits—the sharp pang of reality—and your heart sinks.

Your mind races, doubts creeping in like shadows. Last night felt like a dream, one that you’d wanted for so long. But had it really meant something to him? Or was it just a hazy, alcohol-fueled blur—a careless mistake he wouldn’t think twice about in the morning? Anxiety knots in your stomach as you wonder, What if I was just… there? Convenient.

Slowly, you slip out of bed, careful not to disturb him, each movement feeling heavy, like you’re pulling away from something you’ll never get back. You dress in silence, your hands trembling slightly as you piece together last night’s clothes. You glance back at him once, letting yourself hold onto the memory for a beat longer, but the panic rises again, louder than before. He’s Bucky—your best friend—and you don’t dare risk what little you have left with him if he wakes up and regrets this.

You need to leave before he opens his eyes. Before you see anything in them that could shatter you.

With one last look, you step out, closing the door softly behind you, the quiet click echoing in the empty hallway. As you walk away, the weight of that night presses down on you, a mixture of longing and regret settling deep, leaving you wondering if he’ll ever even think of it again.

[whimsyfinny]

He's a Winchester

Chapter 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, mention of toxic parenting/custody battle, angst, alcohol,

Chapter Word Count: 3471

MDNI 18+

A/N: here it is! I’m not gonna lie, this is going to be very slow burn at first, but don’t worry, you know me and you know how much juicy content I write so it’s definitely coming hahaha. I’m also trying to figure out a schedule for posting this, so hopefully I can upload two chapters a week.

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out. 

Photos from Pinterest

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I reached for the bottle of wine for the third time in the last hour and a half. I was sitting with Kat, pyjamas adorned, in the living room of mine and Levi's modest two bedroom house. For financial (and personal) reasons, our little house didn't follow current trends and looked more like something out of a popular 90s sitcom. The couch was comfy, the blankets were fuzzy, and a fresh pot of coffee was always brewing. Pictures embellished the walls of every milestone Levi had achieved; every birthday party, every new dirt bike, every new hairstyle. There were a few of Kat and I from over the years, going way back to when we first met back in ‘99 and both decided to rock platform heels on at the turn of the millennium - having tiny babies at the time didn't seem to stop us. Every single moment on these walls was a happy memory - something that I would treasure forever, yet there was something missing. There were no photos - or perhaps a scarce few - of my own parents, or of them with Levi, or of any extended family for that matter. The price I paid when I decided to have my son out of wedlock, at barely twenty years old, with a man who my family saw as a total stranger, is a price I'd pay every time in a heartbeat. Kat and Toby were our family now, and that was more than I could ever ask for. That was why the sheer possibility of Levi getting to meet his dad for the first time in, well, ever… it had my mind spinning. It was a scenario I'd dreamt of, late at night when I couldn't sleep and the burdens of life weighed me down. I conjured false memories in my minds eye of the pair of them fixing his bike on the drive or driving to school in the impala. I pictured us having breakfast together as a family and taking trips to the movies. Being together. Because no matter how many dates I went on, or how many frogs I’d kissed over the years, none of them were Levi's father.

None of them were Dean Winchester.

“Girl you have to reach out to him,” Kat walked in from the adjacent kitchen before slumping on the couch next to me, wine glass elevated to reduce spillage.

“Kat I could barely look at him today without feeling like I was going to have a heart attack - how the fuck am I supposed to talk to him?” I glanced at her with wide eyes, every nerve in my body on edge despite the wine and scented candles. Kat sighed. 

“You might never get this opportunity again, and we both know that if you don’t give Levi the opportunity to meet his father then you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.” I held my breath, urging the raging storm in my mind to quiet down before letting the air gush from my lungs.

“Yeah I know. I just…I just never thought that this would actually happen, you know? I never thought that Dean would show up here. I figured Levi would eventually track him down when he was old enough to make that decision on his own. I have no idea how to even approach this.”

“Sure you do!” Kat beamed, a wicked glint in her eye, “you sit him down and say, ‘Hey Dean! Remember when we had sex in the back of that amazing car of yours nine years ago? Well, actions have consequences, and yours in eight years old and sitting in his science class right now.’”

I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face and I cackled when the bit of popcorn I threw landed in her wine glass.

“Bitch.”

I blew her a kiss in response to her insult. It didn’t take long though for the distraction to run its course and for my mind to return to its state of panic.

“But seriously, what am I going to say to him? What if I tell him, and he rejects us too, like my family did?”

Her smile softened.

“From everything that you’ve told me about that man, I highly doubt he’s going to reject you. Sure, he might not stick around permanently, but he sounds like the kind of guy that would stay in touch,” her softened smile turned to a stern stare, “but he’s only going to do that if he knows. He deserves to know he has a son.”

I took a long gulp of my wine. 

“Yeah, I’m going to tell him…” I paused, gnawing my bottom lip as I drew my knees to my chest, “it’s Saturday tomorrow so I’m not at work and Levi has two hours at the track. I can try to do it tomorrow, but I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to track Dean down in that time - I have no idea where he could be.”

“Hey, I’ll pick up Levi from Motocross - it’s been a few days since him and Toby have spent any proper time together anyway, just them two. Tobes’ has been dying to show him those brand new boots of his.”

We shared a smile. That’s the thing about Kat; she always had my back, no matter the situation.

“Thanks babes, I owe you one.”

She shook her head.

“No way - this is me returning the favour from when Toby’s dad decided to show an interest in his own child. I’m pretty sure my kid thought you were adopting him at one point from how much he stayed here,” I laughed, remembering the camp bed I bought especially for Toby, along with all the extra duvet sets and boxes of cereal I’d had to purchase for the best part of half a year.

“He’s a good kid, and honestly he and Levi entertained themselves for most of it.”

There was another pause in the conversation as I recounted how difficult it had been for Kat when David had shown up, insisting on being a part of Tobys life despite zero contact since his son was born. They’d argued over custody, over which school he went to, the clubs he attended. Even his hobbies were on the line, with David wanting him to play football despite Toby already being involved down at the track with the bikes. The stress caused Kat to lose weight and sleep, and she nearly lost her job over it all when she kept falling asleep at her desk. I’d lost count of how many times she’d cried in my arms. Cried over a man who thought that practically owning his son was his God given right despite being an absent father, and I think that is what scared me the most. That I would feel the same wretched things that she felt, and the waves of disappointment that crashed over her time and time again when false promises were made. It took her months to settle on an agreement due to David's behaviour, and Toby finally sees his father, albeit only for one weekend a month. It's better than nothing, but certainly not worth the fight that was fought with blood, sweat and tears. 

I hope from the bottom of my heart that Dean takes the news well, and doesn't leave us in the dust like he does in my worst nightmares.

It had taken me around thirty minutes to track down Dean. Well, to at least find the impala. It's common knowledge that if you find that car, Dean isn't far away. I’d parked my truck two spaces down, and luckily we were within walking distance of my favourite café, Jolenes’. It was my safe space. The place that I would finally tell him about Levi.

I pulled the sleeves of my soft cardigan down over my hands to stop myself from chewing nervously on my nails. Leaving the safety of my truck, I paced over to the black Chevy and stood by it, determined to speak to Dean as soon as possible. I knew that if I had stayed sitting behind my own wheel, there was a huge chance that I'd chicken out and just drive away. As I waited I checked over the car in front of me, admiring how he still kept it spotless after all these years. Unable to stop myself, I let my gaze drift over to the backseat, the events that unfurled on the soft leather racing to mind. I pulled my lip between my teeth, unable to resist the replay of memories.

“You have good taste in cars.”

I practically launched out my skin as the voice came from behind me. I could hear the amusement in his voice from a few feet away. I spun on my heel and our eyes locked, the charming grin slipping slightly from Deans’ lips when he realised it was me. The playfulness in his features quickly softened, a true, genuine smile now gracing his lips.

“Dean…” I suddenly felt breathless, but despite my nerves I returned his smile in kind.

“It's good to see you (Y/n),” he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, enveloping me in his entirety. I closed my eyes as I hugged him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and taking a deep breath, my brain tingling at his familiar scent.

“You too, Dean. It's been too long.”

After a moment we released each other and Dean stood up straight, smiling at me again with a soft twinkle in his eye. We both flinched slightly when someone cleared their throat and he took a step back. 

“Oh, uh, (Y/n), this is Sam, my younger brother,” he patted the shoulder of the young man standing beside him, and I instantly recognised him from the dessert parlour. He was tall, taller than Dean even, which was one hell of an accomplishment, and his face held a similar boyish charm to Deans. Yet he looked softer around the edges, like he hadn't been hardened by life too much yet.

“It's a pleasure, I'm (Y/n). I've known you're brother for a while,” I smiled as I shook his hand, taking note of the rough calluses beginning to form on his palms. “He used to talk about you all the time, apparently you're the smart one of the family,” with a grin and a quick glance at Dean, I tested the waters with humour. If he laughed or took the blow like a champ, now was a good time to talk to him. Sam chuckled, squeezing my hand slightly in his before letting it go. 

“Ouch… (Y/n), sweetheart, aren't you supposed to be on my side here? Y’know, with our history and all…?” he feigned hurt with a hand on his chest before his lips twitched up and he shot me a wink.

“I mean… she's not wrong,” Sam laughed, dropping his hands lazily into his pockets.

“Hey, I'm just going on what you told me, Dean. Don't hold that against me,” I grinned at them both, unsure of what to do with my hands so I crossed them across my chest.

A small breath of silence passed between us, Deans’ gaze holding mine with an intensity that made me want to look away. I didn't. Sam cleared his throat again, clapping his hand to Deans’ shoulder before taking a step back.

“I'll, uh, give you guys a few minutes,” and with an appreciative nod from Dean, Sam gave us some space. With his younger brother gone, my heart began to flutter in my chest. The time to break the news was getting closer, and my nerves were on edge. On fire.

“So,” he started, taking a step closer with a deep breath, “how's it going? How long has it been?”

“Nine years,” I was almost too hot on the mark, my words coming out faster than I'd intended and Dean blinked slightly. I sighed, looking down. “There's been a lot going on, and honestly, I've really needed you at times. You're a hard man to find Dean Winchester.” 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” his brows pinched apologetically and he reached for my hand, tracing my knuckles with his thumb. I took a deep breath and met his gaze again.

“Do you… do you have some time? I need to talk to you. It's important, and if I don't do it now, I don't know if I'll get another chance.” 

He nodded slowly, giving my hand a squeeze, releasing it hesitantly with a slight wince to his features.

“Uh oh,” he said, “am I in trouble?”

I laughed, the sound light off my chest.

“Oh Dean,” I reached up to touch his face, and his instinctive reaction was to lean into my palm, “you don't know the half of it.” 

The walk to the café had been pleasant. We chatted about what we'd been up to since we last met - Dean revealing he was still in the same line of work and had travelled around a lot, never really settling down. There was something about that nugget of information that made my stomach twist in knots. He learnt I was still a receptionist, this time at the local garage  instead of the large dealership I had scored before. He asked why I'd changed, to go to something smaller, lesser, and my silence urged him to wait until we were at our destination. He knew I was anxious, and he did his best to keep conversation light and breezy until the time was right. To an untrained eye he was unphased, yet I could tell from the lip nibbling and flitting gaze that he was nervous too.

Do you think he's already guessed it?

The bell jingled as we walked in, the two baristas looking up and instantly greeting me with a wave and a smile.

“Hey (Y/n)! Your couch is free,” the first barista, a young man around my age with soft blond curls waved to me across the counter, his brilliant grin making me smile with a comforting familiarity. “Your usual?”

“Yes please! Thanks, Jake,” I returned the friendliness, stepping around the tables until we arrived at my favourite spot.

“And for your… date?” He gestured to Dean, who was now shrugging off his leather jacket, “what can I get for you pal?” 

Dean hesitated, before just holding his hands up.

“Uhhh, I don't know, I guess I'll have what she's having.”

With our hot beverages on their way, I sat down in my usual nook in the corner whilst Dean sat down opposite, in that same plush armchair that Kat had sat in yesterday. Where Kat had been swallowed by the chair and its all-consuming cushions, Dean had the opposite effect. He made the chair look small under his broad form, like it was made for a child. There were a few moments of silence, neither of us really knowing where to start. So I bit the bullet.

“Dean… before I tell you anything, just know that I've been trying to get hold of you on and off for years. Your number always seemed to go to voicemail and I never got a call back. So please just… know I tried.” 

I looked up and he was totally engaged, already hanging off every word I said as he leant forward, his elbows on his knees. Our attention pulled away from each other briefly as our coffees arrived, hand delivered by the second barista - a woman a few years older than myself with a jet black pixie cut.

“Thanks Emily, you're an angel,” I grasped the mug before she even had a chance to put it on the table and clutched it in my lap, letting the warmth seep through my palms to help soothe my nerves. 

“No worries babes, you two have fun,” she looked between Dean and me with a playful smirk, throwing me a wink before she turned around. 

Great, the gossip starts now.

I turned back to Dean who was now sitting on the edge of his seat. I took a deep breath.

Do it now.

“Dean, I have a son.”

I watched his face twitch slightly, almost like it dropped in disappointment, however it was so fleeting across his features that it was hard to tell. He pulled a strained smile onto his lips.

“(Y/n) that's great, I'm happy for you,” he looked down at his boots briefly, choosing his next words, “I guess this is you telling me to stay away, huh? Now that you have a family and all. It's ok, I get it.”

I shook my head, placing my cup on the table so I could pull myself to sit on the edge of the couch, almost mirroring Dean.

“No, no Dean, that's not- look, what I'm saying is…” another deep breath, “you, have a son.”

I watched his eyes go wide, unsure if he heard me correctly.

“What?” His voice was breathy.

I looked down into my mug for a second, choosing my words. 

“I have a little boy; he's eight, his name is Levi…and he's yours, Dean. He's your son.”

I dared to look up at him, watching his eyes go wider and his mind empty of thoughts. Either that, or his mind is racing so fast that it's left his body on standby. I gave him a few minutes to process the news. Or at least process it the best he could as it would likely be days or weeks before this fully sunk in. Nervousness prickled at my own skin, my worst fears of rejection bubbling to the surface again at his silence. I sighed.

“It’s ok, Dean, I’m not expecting you to-”

He stood abruptly, stepped over the coffee table and pulled me to my feet, wrapping his strong arms around me in a crushing grip. His arms were so tight that it almost winded me, yet I returned his embrace. The feeling of his lips on the top of my head surprised me as he kissed my hair, the sensation warm and comforting. He placed one, two more kisses before he cupped my face in his large hands, his rough palms gentle against my cheeks as I locked eyes with him. The sight was beautiful. The annoyance and exasperation that I expected to be met with was nowhere to be seen, and I saw no shadow of negativity within those evergreen eyes. All I saw was love. Pride. Joy. Excitement. The relief washing over me felt the same as climbing into your nice, warm comfy bed when on the brink of exhaustion. 

“I’m a dad?” his voice cracked slightly whilst his eyes shimmered.

I nodded as a grin erupted across his face, followed by an airy, almost unbelieving chuckle.

“Holy fuck, (Y/n)-”

“You’re not mad?” my voice was quiet.

“What?” Dean looked at me as though I’d grown a second head, “of course not. Why would I be mad?”

“Because it’s been nine years since we last saw each other, and suddenly this woman who you’ve not spoken to in nearly a decade drops the biggest truth bomb on you. A truth bomb  that I know you definitely weren’t expecting,” I try to step back but he pulls me in for another hug, squeezing the air out of me a second time.

“(Y/n), sweetheart, this is the best bit of news I’ve had in a long, long time.”

I smiled into his chest, freeing my arms to wrap them around his neck and pull him down into a hug of my own. We stood for a moment in our embrace as the coffee shop busied around us. I knew this shop and I knew this town and people would soon start to talk, start to try and figure out Dean: like who is he? How does he know (Y/n)? Why are they acting so familiar? Is he trouble? But that was all unimportant rubbish that I would deal with later. Right now, Levis father was here, and he knew. For the first time in my adult life I felt like I wasn’t keeping some devastating secret from an incredible man, and it was like I could breathe again. 

Pulling away from Deans’ bear hug, I tucked the wisps of hair away that had come loose from my claw grip and grinned up at him, reaching for his hand. I held it in mine as I swayed slightly on the spot, like an excited schoolgirl who’d just been asked on her first date. Dean smiled down at me, the sort of smile that shone on top of the world.

“So…” I started, biting my lip slightly.

“Do you want to meet your son?”

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx @rox2008 @jeysbae @ladykitana90 @proudbisexual @ladysparkles78 @elenasalvatore1 @bxtchboy69 @saemiau @lilithlunastark @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @riah1606 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[eideticmemory]

BABY DADDY | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

A one night stand leads to much, much more than either of you bargained for.

Word Count: 8.3k

Warning/Includes: BabyDaddy!Matthew, duh!!! Smut Lite™️.

So, the thing about babies is that they don’t really give a fuck about context. They truly couldn’t care less about what you’re doing, what’s happening in your life, your goals, your dreams, your ambitions. It’s all irrelevant. They will show up anyway. And what the little clump of cells in your uterus has failed to realize is that you do not know their father. At all.

Seriously.

You know him biblically. Obviously. You’ve shared drinks and a bed. You’ve seen him naked. He’s seen you naked. You’ve spent, maybe, an hour and a half together total. And you spent the majority of that time making the conscious decision to leave together, undress and fuck. You’re pretty sure the last thing you said to him was, “Safe travels.” As in, I don’t want to see you again. As in, If all goes well, I should never have to see you again.

You used a condom. You’re not dumb, you used a condom. So when weeks passed by and your period was late, you didn’t think anything of it. It happens. Sometimes periods are just late.

But it never came.

You bought the pregnancy test just to be safe. In fact, you were so sure that you were playing it safe that you didn’t take it for another three days. Pushing it back and back, hoping your period would come.

It didn’t.

So you squatted over the toilet and got a good amount of pee on the thing and waited two minutes just for it to stare you directly in the eye and say: FUCK YOU, DUMB BITCH. YOU’RE PREGNANT.

Okay, it just said pregnant. But that’s what went through your head. Your knees buckled and you grabbed your stomach, almost like you could feel the thing just hanging out in there. You doubled over, thinking you were going to puke, but you didn’t. You eye the test again and then, out of pure nerves, you puke.

You buy two more tests. They call you a dumb bitch again, just a little louder. You want a bottle of wine but you don’t have one because you’re pregnant. You want a lighter and a goddamn cigarette but you don’t have one because you don’t even smoke and you’re pregnant.

You sit down for lunch with your friend and it’s the first time you say these words out loud.

She yells, “You’re what?”

Pregnant!

You give her this look that says please don’t make me say it again and she doesn’t. She heard you very well the first time.

“W-wh-what…” she trembles. Shaking, like she’s the one knocked up. “What? H-how…what? who’s the daddy?”

You sigh, cut your eyes up at her, and her jaw drops, stuttering, “O-oh…no…no…[y/n]…no.”

“It’s gotta be him. He’s the last guy I had sex with. I had gotten my period before then. Now, no period, three positive pregnancy tests.”

“Three?” she shouts. “Oh, so you’re pregnant pregnant?”

“Yeah, I took three just to be sure and they all told me to go kill myself. So.”

“Oh my god…” she shudders. “Oh my god? Oh my…” and she chugs her glass of wine in one big gulp. It looks good.

“What are you going to do?” she asks you.

You shrug, your mind made up, “I’m keeping it.”

“What?”

“Okay, you need to quiet down now before we get kicked out of here.”

“What do you mean keeping it? As in, giving birth? As in, raising a child?”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

“O…kay…and the baby daddy?”

You shrug, “What about him?”

“I-“ she slams her hands down. “[y/n].”

“What?”

“You’re not gonna tell him?”

“Why would I? I have a house and a job and insurance and a 401K, I can take care of my kid.”

“Well, yeah…but it’s…his kid, too? Why-why are you keeping it if you’re not gonna tell him?”

“Because I want a baby. I don’t know. I-I thought about…getting it sucked out of there, but I don’t wanna. I want a baby. I want a kid. And yeah, this…isn’t the conventional way of doing that, but I never much saw myself with a husband anyway.”

“So…what’s the plan? Matthew’s just walking down the street one day and a little carbon copy of him comes out of the shadows saying ooh, aah, look at me! I’m the love child you unintentionally abandoned 10 years ago! That’s fucked.”

“What if he doesn’t care? What if he wants to abandon the kid? What if we’re on the same page?”

“Then at least give him the option.”

“Ugh.”

“[y/n], just give him the option. What? You can gargle his cock in your mouth but you can’t have a conversation? You need to tell him.”

“Okay…” you roll your eyes.

“And whatever the outcome, he stills owes you money. He stills owes some type of financial support, whether you want it or not.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Whatever. Look, I work with him when he’s in town, okay? I see him, I have to interact with him, I can’t hold on to this and I can’t be the one to tell him. [y/n]…please…”

“Okay!”

“Okay?”

You huff, “Okay. Fine.”

“Okay. You have his number?”

“No.”

“Classy,” she quips as she scrolls through her phone and you roll your eyes, “Okay, I’m airdropping it to you now.”

His contact comes through to your phone and you only stare at it long enough to accept and then you plant the device face down on the table. You suck back an anxious gulp of water and fidget with your hands, “This is your fault, you know?”

“What? How?”

“You’re the one that introduced us. At that launch party or whatever. What was that even about?”

“It was the launch party for a new production company and fuck you, you whore. I didn’t force you to go and get yourself knocked up. That was all you, Matthew and those free shots.”

“Oh, please, you practically threw us together.”

“Yeah, well, sue me, I thought you guys would hit it off,” she shrugs. “Not quite this much, but…”

The two of you sit in silence, looking around the restaurant, picking at your food.

“So,” she pips.

Your eyes flicker up at her.

“How was it?” she smirks. “Worth a baby?”

You let a long sigh, shaking your head with a very violent roll of your eyes, “Honestly…yeah…”

So far, pregnancy doesn’t suck. You’re still early, still not showing. There’s been no nausea or bloating. The insomnia, however, is getting ridiculous. You’re normally the type of girl to crash in bed as soon as possible, knocked out the moment your head hits the pillow. It is now midnight and your eyes are wide open, unable to relax. You check everything possible off of your to-do list, even scheduling your first obstetrician appointment. The only thing you haven’t done is call Matthew, having had his number sitting in your phone for close to a week now. To make it worse, all you want is a cinnamon roll. But not just any cinnamon roll. One from the late night bakery down the street. This is especially dangerous because you know very well that they are still open and somewhere out there is a cinnamon roll with your name on it. It would be nuts to leave the warmth of your bed right now, walk a mile in the dead of night, just for a cinnamon roll.

But you’re going to.

You bundle up and head out into the summer night, looking completely insane. Hoodie, sweats, tattered sneakers built for walking down the New York City sidewalks. It’s not far and you walk fast, faster than normal tonight because the craving is just that strong. You make it in all of ten minutes and within five more, you have the box cracked open and are tearing a piece off with your bare hands.

You look up for merely a second and your eyes catch him immediately. Now, you’re tired. Your blood sugar’s just shot up but you’re pretty sure it’s him. Posing for a picture with a fan. Tall. Beautiful. Smiling. His eyes land on you and he excuses himself, throws up a wave. You jump, looking around, contemplating running. But, yeah. That wouldn’t be suspicious at all. By the time you stop fidgeting, he’s standing over you and you’re trapped.

“Hi!” he greets you. “Hi, [y/n], how are you?”

You wipe frosting from your mouth and chuckle, more caught off guard by his remembering your name than anything. You cough, “Hi. Matthew, hi. I’m good. I’m doing good. How are you?”

“Good! Just heading home.”

“Oh! Oh, you have a place in New York?”

“Yeah, near the park, just a few blocks over. You live around here?”

“Uh…” you did not know this so you’re forcing your brain to catch up. “Uh, yeah, yeah. About a block over, just… couldn’t sleep. Wanted a cinnamon roll.”

“Looks good,” he giggles. “You look good.”

“Oh, you’re full of shit,” you smile.

“No! No, I mean it. You look great. I love the cinnamon roll run outfit. Honestly.”

You blush, you don’t mean to, but you blush. “Well, thank you. You look good, too.” He does. You can tell he’s just leaving somewhere because he’s dressed up and you suddenly remember very vividly how you ended up pregnant.

“Aw, thank you. I appreciate that…” his eyes scan over you. “Where did you say you live? Can I walk you home? It’s late.”

You want to shout No! Thank you! and run. It wouldn’t be hard to do. Why not? Still, you say, “Yes. Yeah, I’d like that.”

And so the two of you stroll down the empty sidewalks together, he does most of the talking. You can hear it in his voice that he’s flirting. You’ve heard it before. It has been successful, with you, before. Yet, you’re too busy this time around trying not to puke. He walks you to your door and you notice your cinnamon roll has gone cold in your hand.

“This is me,” you tell him. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiles. “We should get together again, if you’re up for it.”

You nod, “Mhm. Yeah. That sounds nice. Um, I’ll give you my number.” He instantly pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it over. He’s serious. You type your name and number in and hand it back, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Perfect,” his fingers linger on yours as he takes his phone back. “I’ll call you. Hey, could I use your bathroom? I pee fast so I won’t inconvenience you too long.”

No!

You snicker, “Yeah…” you start to unlock the door. “Of course. Sorry in advance, it’s a little messy.”

“Oh, a little mess doesn’t scare me,” he laughs.

You let him in and point out the bathroom and as soon as he disappears, closes the door behind him, you release the breath that’s been trapped in your chest and plop down on the couch. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The toilet flushes and then there’s a loud bang from the bathroom and you snap back to reality. “Matthew?” you call. “You alright in there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he calls in response. “Just kicked over your trash can. Sorry!”

“That’s okay!” you reply. You relax.

It is definitely not okay.

You hop up and sprint to the bathroom door. You don’t even knock, you just burst into the bathroom where Matthew is picking up the spilled trash. Your eyes instantly land on the pregnancy tests and you can’t do anything but stand in wait.

When he notices them, he laughs. Not a cackle, but a soft giggle, almost silly, “You pregnant or something?” he asks. It’s a joke. He’s making a joke.

He looks at your face. It’s not a joke.

He stops laughing. He stops smiling. You’ve never seen someone’s entire being go so pale.

“Oh, you’re…” he stutters. “You’re…” he breathes. “Is it mine?”

You can hardly look him in the eye but you do and you nod.

“How long have you known?”

You gulp, “Like…a week. I haven’t been to the doctor or anything.”

“Are you…” you can see his chest heaving. “Are you serious?”

You nod, “Yes.”

He looks around the bathroom, wobbling on his heels and you worry he’s going to pass out. Instead, he slams the toilet seat down and sits on it, falls on it. “What…what are you going to do?”

“I’m…” you clear your throat. “Keeping it.”

“Oh.” he says. “You don’t...you’re not…”

“No. I don’t want that.”

And this is where his words became jumbled. Mumbled. Barely incoherent. He, himself, cannot even figure out what he’s trying to say.

“Look,” you interrupt him. “You don’t have to be involved, okay? You don’t even need to be on the birth certificate. I can handle this. I will handle this. If you wanna drop me a couple hundreds bucks every month and call it a day, that’s fine. If you don’t? Also fine. But I need to know because we’re…not…confusing this kid, okay? So, you need to be all in or all out.”

“Are you...” he cuts his eyes up at you and then promptly rises to his feet. “I can’t do this right now.”

You’re so dumbfounded as he rushes past you that your brain doesn’t even fully process it until he’s almost out the door. “Where are you going?”

“I have to clear my head. I-I have to get out of here.”

“Uh, okay...” he closes the door in your face. “Bye…”

And in the wake of all this exciting, suddenly surrounded by silence and cut tension, you remember your cinnamon roll. You want it after all.

When your friend asks if you’ve told Matthew, you say, “Yes.”

“Oh, shit. You called him?”

“No.” And you have to explain. You have to explain every awkward, uncomfortable, terrible second.

“And I haven’t heard from him since,” you shrug.

“Really?”

You nod.

She sighs, “Wow…fuck him.”

“Fuck him.”

And you meant that. You’re content with that. You feel like you can move on. Prepare, nest, move forward. Then he calls you. Out of nowhere. His name pops up on your phone and silences the music that had been playing while you took a bath. You stare at the screen for a long time, wondering if it’s best to protect your peace. It is. But still, you answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, [y/n]?” he clears his throat. “It’s Matthew.”

“Matthew,” you sigh. “Hi.”

“Hey, um, when is your first doctor’s appointment? Has that passed already?”

“Um…” you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely confused. “No. It’s on the twenty-sixth. At Aster on the upper west side. Eleven o’clock.”

Silence.

Then, he says, “Okay…okay, I’ll be there.”

You shrug, “Okay.”

“Okay.”

You arrive at 10:45. You do not expect him to show up, like truly expect him to show up. So when he comes walking into the waiting room, your heart genuinely stops. You cross and uncross your legs, shuffling in your seat.

“Hi,” you whisper, with very minimal eye contact.

“Hi.”

The nurse calls your name and Matthew follows you into the examination room, taking a seat beside you. The technician asks you a series of questions about your last period, your symptoms, your health history and Matthew hears none of it.

“And are you dad?” she asks him.

He feels like he’s going to throw up. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

You roll your eyes and luckily, this kind woman cuts the tension pretty quickly. She slathers this cold gel on your belly and presses the wand to your skin and the heartbeat picks up immediately.

“Oh, wow, strong heartbeat already!” she grins at you. But you can’t take your eyes off the monitor. Matthew either. “You’re right around ten weeks so there’s the little head and you can see their arms and legs starting to form here.”

You can. You can really see it. There’s a baby in there. Barely. But a baby! You look at Matthew and his look of pure terror mirrors yours. It’s kind of comforting.

The nurse wipes you off and says, “So your estimated due date is March 10th, but again, that’s just an estimate so take it with a grain of salt because babies tend to follow their own schedule. You’re looking at anywhere from two to three days before or after.”

“Holy shit,” Matthew swears. “That’s the day after my birthday.”

“Is it really?” you tilt your head and at this, the nurse is dumbfounded. At this, Matthew is completely silenced.

You ask for two separate copies of the ultrasound and the technician has gotten over the shock. She’s not going to question it anymore, not going to give it any thought. Let you two sort it out.

As you stand outside afterwards, twiddling your thumbs, unsure of what to say or what to do, he asks, “Are you hungry? Can I take you to lunch?”

You cross your arms, wanting to say no. Wanting to lie. Instead you sigh, “Yes,” you nod. “Yes, please. I’m fucking starving.”

So he takes you to a cafe down the street where you order possibly the biggest burger even seen and fries and a cup of veggies and a piece of cake. It’s awkward, silent, and he just watches you eat. Almost like he can’t wrapped his head around it. You come up for air and catch his gaze.

“Hey,” you swallow. “Don’t look at me crazy. You’ve never had something in your body competing for resources.”

He chuckles, “No judgement. Eat what you want.”

“That was my plan.”

He picks at his food for a few moments and then sighs, “So…how…how are we gonna do this?”

You would ask for more context but you don’t need it. You know exactly what he means. You shrug, “I don’t know…” you shrug again. “I don’t know, just…do the best we can, I guess?”

He nods, “Yeah. Yeah, that always seems to work for everyone else.”

September | 14 Weeks

The deal is that Matthew will come in every four weeks for your appointments. This is what he agrees to, but you’re not convinced it will happen. But your next appointment rolls around and you’re shocked to walk in and find he’s beat you there. This time, he sees you and he smiles. His eyes scan over your figure as you take a seat, he goes, “Oh, you’re…you’re kinda starting to…”

You glance down at your tiny baby bump and you have this weird urge all the time to touch it so you do. “Oh. Yeah. I finally had to start telling people at work. They made me a registry.”

“Oh, that’s nice. What…what do you need me to get? What does a baby need?”

“God, dude, too much shit, I swear. Plus, I don’t even know what I want to dress her in. There’s like a million different brands and they all look the same or are made from spider silk or something stupid. I don’t know.”

He tilts his head at you, “Her? You think it’s a girl?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. I don’t think we can find out just yet anyway but, maybe?”

This little grin appears on his face and he almost reaches in to your bump, but he doesn’t. He shuffles in his seat, clears his throat, “A girl would be nice.”

You smile, “I think so, too.”

You both get your updated ultrasounds to go and the technician is greatful to not feel so suffocated this time. The energy around the two of you has shifted. Not much. You’re still strangers and it shows. But it’s different. You smile, you joke around, Matthew speaks up, asks questions.

It’s different.

At the end of the appointment, he asks you, “Hey, are you busy tonight?”

“Oh…” you’re caught off guard. “No. Why?”

“I was wondering if you might want to come over? For dinner maybe?”

“Oh.”

“Nothing…weird. I just…want you to know where I live and…I don’t know, I thought we could just talk.”

“Um. Okay. Okay. Send me your address.”

“Okay. I will.”

And so because you reluctantly agreed, you show up at his doorstep at six o’clock sharp. You’re not dressed up or anything, but it’s starting to get cold and you just threw on this big puffy jacket.

He opens the door and greets you with a bright smile, saying, “Hey, you. Come in.”

“Thanks,” you meekly walk in and instantly look around his place and oh, it’s fucking gorgeous. Comforting. Because you can’t have a baby with someone who lacks interior design skills.

“Are you still craving chinese? I got us a fuck ton.”

“Oh, my god,” you sigh in relief, smelling the food, instantly plopping down at the kitchen table. “Oh, my god, yes, thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiles.

You look around and notice the ultrasounds on his fridge, staring at them as he sets up a plate for you.

He takes a seat beside you and takes a bite of his food, then asking, “So, where are you from?”

It catches you off guard so you laugh, “What?”

“Where are you from? What’s your family like? Where’d you go to school?”

“Um, okay…what…you interrogating me?”

He laughs, “No. No, sorry. I just…uh, I wanna get to know you better, that’s all. You can ask me anything you wanna know, too.”

“Hm,” you nod. “Okay.” And you spill your guts.

You wrap your life up in a nutshell and it becomes this rapid game of back and forth about whose parents did this and how many siblings do you have and who was your first crush. Who’s your best friend. Who’s the last person you dated. Tell me about all the people you’ve dated!

Your baby daddy is kind of a slut, but, honestly, who are you to judge?

He’s funny. As far as you can tell, he’s honest. He doesn’t have or want to hide anything from you. What’s the point?

“So, um,” he says. “Why don’t I make you a drink and give you a little tour? Oh, wait, you…”

“Can’t drink,” you nod. “Yeah. Thanks for reminding me.”

“Sorry,” he laughs. “I have sparkling cider.”

“Bleh.”

“Sparkling water?”

“Bleh.”

“I…orange juice?” he laughs but you’re dead serious.

“That sounds so fucking good right now.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles. “Okay, you got it.”

And so, with your cup of orange juice, you follow him around his home. You see his bedroom, his office, and in the corner of the house, an empty room where he proclaims, “This will be the little guy’s room. I’m not sure what I’m gonna do with it yet, but definitely something.”

It’s beautiful. Lots of natural light but he says he’s already started looking at blackout curtains. “And then in my room,” he adds as you walk by. “I’ll have one of those little beside bassinet things, y’know? Just until he gets a little bigger.”

You look up at him with this sober look. You stumble around until you find somewhere to put your glass down and he asks, “You alright?”

You turn back to him and almost immediately jump into his arms, mouth open, a whole growing human between the of you, but still you are close. But still, you are kissing.

“Woah…” he huffs. “W-what…what are you…”

“Sorry,” you breathe out. “It’s nothing personal. I’ve just got a lot of blood rushing to a lot of different places and w-what?” you stutter because he’s caressing your face. “Y’know, it’s not like you can get me pregnant. It’s more like a…a favor?”

His eyes scan over your face and he nods, scoops you up in his arms like it’s nothing. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense,” and he carries you into his bedroom.

October | 18 Weeks

The greeting this week is different. In the past few weeks, there’s been a lot more casual texting. A lot of Matthew asking: Hey, how are you feeling today? Do you need anything? Do you have groceries? You appreciate it.

He walks into the waiting room a few minutes after you and you actually stand to say hi.

“Hi, you!” he pips and he gives you a big hug. This time, he is not so shy and he takes a hold of your bump in both his hands, leaning down to say, “Hi, you! What are you doing in there? Woah!”

“Ah,” you groan. “Yeah, kicking the shit out of me. lately. Don’t get her riled up.”

But he pokes at your belly again and those legs come back swinging. He laughs, “Oh, my god, that’s so cool!”

“Yeah, not so much when it’s the middle of the night and it’s directly on your bladder.”

“Oof. Sorry, I should be stern,” he leans down. “Knock it off, kid.” And the kid kicks back.

“Oh! Jesus. Okay, that was…bad. Keep practicing.”

He cackles, “I will.”

In the exam room, the technician asks, “Do you wanna know the gender?” The smile on her face tells you that she already knows.

And as you shout an enthusiastic, “Yes!” Matthew is shaking his head, saying, “No.”

And then there’s silence.

“What…” you chuckle. “What do you mean no?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I kinda just wanna be surprised.”

“Hm…” you furrow your eyebrows. You turn to the technician, “Well, I wanna know, will you put it in an envelope for me?”

This envelope is hand delivered to you at the end of your appointment and you hold it tight in your hands all the way out the door. You tear into it as soon as you step outside and Matthew shouts, “Wait!”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna know! Open it when you’re alone.”

“Okay…” you shrug, putting the envelope in your purse.

The two of you stand there, silent, avoiding eye contact.

“Fine, open it,” he says.

“What?” you laugh. “I thought you didn’t wanna know?”

“I don’t! I don’t. But-but you should know. Open it.”

You roll your eyes at him and take the envelope out of your bag, breaking the seal, flipping it open and showing absolutely no emotion. You rise and fall from the tip of your toes, biting down on your lip.

“Oh, c’mon!” he groans. “What is it? What is it? What is it? Just tell me.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You positive?”

“[y/n]…” he whines.

You chuckle and turn the paper around to face him and his entire expression goes blank.

“A boy?” he whispers. Followed by, “Oh, my god, a boy!” Then, “A boy?” Finally, “A boy…”

You giggle and nod, “A boy.”

Halloween falls on a work day, after which you immediately come home to take a nap. You awake to find missed calls and texts from Matthew, the last of which reads: I’m coming over. You see this just before he rings your doorbell.

You answer and flinch, caught off guard by his costume. His makeup, the whole thing. “Oh…” you say. “You did say you were weird about Halloween.”

“Um, I don’t know if weird is the word I used but…here! For you,” he hands you a bag full of candy and you laugh, taking it from him.

“Thank you.”

“And…also, for you,” and he hands you a pumpkin.

“Oh! Thanks?”

“It’s the exact same weight as the baby. Weighed it myself.”

And your heart just kind of melts. “Aw…that’s so cute…” you hold the thing in your hands and look down at it. “Wow, what? No fucking way that’s in there.” you say in disbelief, holding the pumpkin level with your belly.

The two of you burst into laughter and Matthew sighs, happily exclaming, “Yeah, that’s him.”

November | 22 Weeks

Before your next appointment, Matthew calls you to ask if you’ll spend Thanksgiving with him in Vegas.

“Y’know, I told my family and-and they were…y’know shocked. But, they wanna meet you. I’m sure you already have plans but if you don’t…I’d really love it if you came with me.”

You sit in silence for a second. “I…I don’t have plans. I’ll go.”

“Really?”

“Oh, did you…want me to say no?”

“No,” he laughs. “No. I just thought you would. Um, well, okay, cool! Cool. I’ll book the flight.”

“Okay. Cool.”

Matthew meets you at your place the day before Thanksgiving, greeting you with a hug and a kiss on your belly. “Hey, you ready?”

“Yeah…” you grumble. “I’m all packed, just tired.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Ha…ha…no, thanks.”

“I’m so dead serious. I’ve been lifting weights, gotta train to carry a baby around.”

“I’m telling you, this fucker is heavy.”

He laughs, “Yeah, he looks it already. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Um…” you sigh. “Can you just carry my bags?”

“[y/n].” He looks you in the eye. “I was going to do that anyway.”

You get sick on the plane and the flight attendant gives you ice to chew and a cold rag for your forehead. Matthew is constantly rubbing your leg and fanning you with the safety booklet.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry. What can I do?” he asks.

“Will you be the pregnant one for a little bit?”

“Yes, if that’s what you need.”

His face is serious and you can’t help but laugh, “Fuck you.”

As you drive through the desert, you have to keep your eyes closed to feel peace. You only open them when the car slows down and you arrive at the house.

“Oh, by the way,” Matthew says as he shuts the car off. “My family thinks we’re together. Like dating.”

Your eyes goes wide and you shoot up in your seat, “What? What?” you yell.

“Look, look, I’m sorry! I didn’t know what else to say!”

“Uh, how about I got a little too drunk and horny on a Friday night and put a baby in someone? You don’t lie! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I…ugh! I’m sorry. I know, I know. I will tell them the truth, but not right now. [y/n], please.”

“No.”

“[y/n]…”

“No. Fuck you! How could you wait until we get here to tell me that bullshit? You’re insane!”

“Okay. Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry, let’s just, please go inside and I will fix it.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna go inside now. You pissed me off.”

“Oh, my…” he huffs. “[y/n], please.”

“No!” you cross your arms. “I’m staying in the car.”

Just then, his mom comes rushing out the house, waving to you both from the front door and you have to put on a smile very quickly.

“I will tell them,” he whispers.

“Oh, you fucking better,” you sneer, still smiling. “Or I will.”

You play along as you’re introduced to everyone. You tell them about yourself. You show them the most recent ultrasound, you pig out on all the food just laying around and somehow, along the way, you forget why you were mad.

Until you retire to bed and they have you and Matthew set up in one room. Then, you are pissed all, over, again.

You rush into the shower to avoid him and when you come back out, he’s laying in the bed.

“Hi,” he smiles nervously.

“Fuck you.”

“Okay.”

“Did you tell them?”

“No. I’m sorry. I will.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Matthew.”

“[y/n]-“

“Matthew!”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll tell them now.”

“Yeah.”

Still, he lays there. “I…I pulled out your maternity pillow. All ready for you.”

“Get out the damn bed,” you grumble and he’s up before you lay down. And worse, he just stands there.

You roll over from your side, looking at him. He’s looking at you and his face pisses you off so you shout, “Matthew!”

“Okay!” and he leaves the room.

He comes back in after you’ve fallen asleep but still, half awake, you ask, “Did you tell them?” and you don’t even question it when he lays beside you, cradles you in his arms.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good.”

And you fall asleep just like that.

Thanksgiving goes well, despite the recent news. You practically clear the table yourself because you’re eating for two and one of you is much greedier than the other. You meet Matthew’s dad, who spends the entire evening lulling you into security just to later pull the two of you into a separate room.

Here, the conversation gets legal. And while you were not expecting it, you’re grateful. You hadn’t thought of any of this. Custody, exchange schedules, schools, primary addresses, out-of-state trips. All of it.

His dad finally asks, “And what last name will the baby be taking?”

You say, “[y/l/n],” as Matthew says, “Oh, Gubler, for sure.” And the two of you just slowly turn to look at each other.

“Oh…” he dad says. “You two should probably discuss.”

That discussion lasts well into the night. Through the drive to the airport. Through the flight.

By the time you land, you’ve compromised. You’ll hyphenate.

December | 26 Weeks

Your next appointment is just over a week before Christmas. Matthew agrees then to spend Christmas Eve with you. Your family comes into New York just to keep you from flying yourself. When they arrive, your home is cluttered with boxes and pieces of the crib and a dismantled bassinet and bottles and boxes of diapers and wipes. Your baby shower was a huge success. You and baby boy want for nothing. But you’re big, you’re stressed, you’re aching and you can’t stop crying.

“Baby, let us put the nursery together for you,” you mom suggests.

“No. No, we’ll do it. It’s fine. I want to do it.”

“Okay. Speaking of, is your baby daddy gonna be here any time soon?”

“Yeah, he’s on the way.”

And as if on queue, Matthew walks in and everyone exclaims, “Hey! Baby daddy!”

Your sibling walks up to him immediately and says, “Love Criminal Minds, dude,” and you put your face in your hands.

Matthew gets everything stuffed into the nursery just for now so there’s more space for everyone to move around. He helps your mom with dinner and he doesn’t mind when they poke and prode into his life.

“So, baby daddy, what part of New York are you in?”

“So, baby daddy, is this your first kid?”

“So, baby daddy, do you think you might propose to [y/n] someday?”

“Baby daddy, what’s your net worth?”

And this is not an exaggeration. By the end of the night, he responds to baby daddy like it’s his actual government name and he confesses to you that it makes him uncomfortable.

Standing on your balcony, he wraps a blanket around you and rubs your shoulders, “Y’know, I understand the terminology, definitely. But…damn.”

You cackle, “Well..you are my baby daddy. We’re having a baby together, but were not together, but we have sex sometimes. It fits. Hey, I’m your baby mama!”

“Aw, well…” he sighs. “Thats sweet.” And he grins at you as you burst into laughter.

Your family leaves to stay at a hotel and Matthew stays to make sure you’re okay. You’re pretty fucking exhausted to be honest. So he tucks you into bed and runs his hand over your hair, “You need anything?”

“No. Just sleep.”

“Okay,” he touches your belly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

When you wake up in the morning, your first thought is that you need to eat. You remember some sugar cookies that your mom had brought by last night and you decide to have them for breakfast. You walk to the kitchen and passing by the nursery, you almost don’t notice. Then, you stop in your tracks, tilt your head and walk backwards.

It’s done.

It’s done!

The crib is built, the dresser and changing table are assembled, the mobile’s up and running, the rocking chair is in the corner. Even the wall art you picked out is hanging up.

“Wh-what…” you stutter and then you march to the living room where Matthew is passed out on the couch. “Matthew!” you shout. Still, he doesn’t wake. So you rush over and shake him, going, “Matthew! Matthew!” and he jolts awake.

“What?” he takes hold of your hands. “What? Are you okay? Are you alright?”

“Yes. What…what the hell did you do?”

“What do you mean?” he rasps. “Oh…the nursery? Do you like it?”

“Do I…” you cut yourself off and run back to the nursery, where you wander around the room unable to focus your attention on just one thing.

Matthew follows behind you and watches you from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well?”

“It’s…” you gleam. “Exactly like my pinterest board.”

“Of course it’s exactly like your pinterest board, I’m not insane!” he laughs.

You feel this peace wash over you and you hug your baby bump as you breathe out a slow exhale. You turn to him with a smile and he thinks you’re running to give him a hug. So when you all but tackle him, take him a kiss, push him to the floor, tear off his clothes, it all happens so fast.

When it’s over, you have no bottoms on and your head is laying on his chest. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I should probably stop attacking you like that.”

He chuckles, “No. Don’t. I don’t mind.”

January | 30 Weeks

Your appointments are every two weeks now. This is the time you expected Matthew to miss at least one, but he never does. He’s always there. Even when he’s not with you, he’s always there.

When your insomnia is at its very worst, he facetimes you in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” he smiles at the screen. “I knew you’d be up.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Insomnia still kicking your ass?”

“Every night this past week.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry, honey,” he frowns. “But since you’re up, I thought we could talk baby names?”

“Oh,” you say. You had forgotten about that. “Oh…right…names.”

“I know, we kinda dropped the ball on that one,” he laughs. “Now, it’s kinda a Gubler tradition that all the boys have the middle name Gray. Y’know, alliteration and all.”

“Oh..that’s…” Boring, you think. “Unoriginal. Can we compromise?”

“Well, I’m already compromising with the hypenating so I don’t know.”

“Oh, good g-“ you roll your eyes. “Sir, you hyphenated like 7 months ago, let it go.” And he lets it go. You add, “I like the name Lincoln. Link.”

“Ooh, no. He used to bully me in school. What about Silas?”

“Yeah, cause he’s a vampire? Veto. I like Noah.”

“Cause he’s building an arc? Veto!”

“Ugh.”

“What about Simon? Y’know I voiced him in the movie.”

You roll your eyes, again. “Yes. We know. Veto.”

Silence falls over the call as you both rack your brains for another suggestion. And like a domino, it naturally falls into your mind, “Theodore?” you shrug.

Matthew smiles, “Teddy?”

“Aw!” you squeal. “Teddy Gray…” you say aloud and then a tear falls from your eye and then you’re full blown sobbing in front of the camera. “Teddy Gray, that’s it. That’s his name.”

And Matthew is freaked out because he’s never seen you cry before. Ever. Not at the doctor, not in the nursery, he’s never had the pleasure of meeting your hormones face to face quite like this. “Yeah…” he chokes out a sob. “That’s it,” he wipes his eyes. “Fuck, why am I crying?”

“Oh, why would you be, you fucking freak?” you shout and he thinks it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said.

Suddenly, your doorbell rings and it silences you, scares you. “What the fuck?” you whisper. “Is that you?”

“Nope. I had something delivered.”

“What? Right now?”

“Just a little cinnamon roll and a milkshake, but I can tell them to leave if you don’t want it?”

“Oh, my god,” you rush out of bed and immediately waddle to the door, “You’re amazing. I wanna have your baby.”

February | 34 Weeks

Your customized pillows and blankets have come in the mail. They all say Teddy and his baby book says it too. It is perfect. It’s your son. At your last appointment, he weighed about 7 pounds and you certainly feel every ounce weighing you down.

But for Teddy, it’s worth it.

For now, you’re still going to work and taking an afternoon nap for survival. Matthew jokes all the time that you can quit your job whenever you’d like. That he can take care of you both, just say the word. That was never the deal, but you appreciate it.

When you arrive home on Valentine’s Day, you’re just getting settled when your doorbell rings. You look through the peep hole and the delivery man is holding the largest vase of roses you’ve ever seen.

“Hi,” he greets you. “[y/n] [y/l/n]?”

“Yes,” you nod and take the roses in your arms. “Thank you.”

He hands you a tiny bag and you carry everything inside, setting them down on the table.

“One more thing,” he tells you and when you turn around, it is a teeny, tiny vase of snipped roses. The vase is personalized with the name Teddy.

“Aw,” you want to cry but you can’t do it in front of this random man. So only when he leaves, you let the tears fall and you set Teddy’s vase near in the window in his room. You leave your flowers on the living room table and take a small jewelry box out of the bag. Inside, are the most gorgeous pair of ruby pendant earrings and you audibly gasp.

The card accompanying it all reads: Sorry I can’t be with you and Teddy today, but I’m thinking about you both. I’m always thinking about you.

Happy Valentine’s Day, baby mama!!

M

March | 37 Weeks

“Any day now, [y/n],” your doctor beams, rolling the wand around on your belly. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you nod. “Excited. Scared. I didn’t give it much thought about how I was gonna get him out of there.”

Her and Matthew laugh, Matthew holding your hand like it’s No Big Deal.

“You’re gonna do great. You’re right on track for your due date, but it’s possible you’ll start feeling some contractions in the next week or two. If you notice them coming really close together or your water breaks, I want you to put that birthing plan in motion, okay?”

“Okay,” you and Matthew say in unison. It would’ve annoyed you before. Now you just smile at him because you think it’s cute.

Matthew escorts you back home and he’s hoping you’ll settle in and maybe rest. You don’t. You end up in the nursery, walking around like maniac. There is absolutely nothing to do. Nothing to move. Nothing to fix. Still, your brain tells you there must be something.

“Honey, honey,” he calls, taking you by the hand and guiding you to the couch. “Come lay down, please. Everything is all set.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he laughs. “You’re just nesting, I read about it online.”

“Oh, you and your baby google.”

“There really is so much out there!”

You roll your eyes, smiling as he covers you with a blanket. “You still going to Vegas this weekend? For your birthday?”

“Oh, no. No, I think I’m just gonna stay in New York.”

“What? Why? I thought your mom was planning a whole thing for you? You can’t miss it.”

“Well, I don’t wanna miss Teddy coming either. I don’t wanna leave you alone like that. The doctor said any day now.”

“Yeah, but, she also said it could be well over another week before I start contracting.”

He sighs, visibly anxious.

“Hey, look,” you pull him into your arms. “I appreciate you wanting to be here, I really do, but I want you to enjoy your birthday and I highly, highly doubt this kid is planning on escaping any time soon. Plus, my friend will be here if anything happens so, just, go, baby daddy, we’ll be fine.”

He sighs, “Fine. But you’ll call me if anything happens?”

“I will call you.”

“Immediately?”

“Immediately!”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

March 9 | 37 Weeks and 6 Days

The eve of Matthew’s birthday, you get roughly four hours of sleep. You rise with the sun and sit in Teddy’s room, folding his clothes, piling them in his dresser.

You friend wanders in, having just woken up herself and she sighs, “What the hell are you doing, crazy lady?”

“Nothing.”

“This nursery looks like it’s straight out of Architectural Digest. There’s nothing else to do, why don’t you go lay down?”

“Why is everyone always wanting me to lay down?”

“Because you’re carrying a human maybe? Duh?”

“I’m fine. I feel fine. I need to check on the bottles and make sure I have the right sized nipples because I’m not sure…”

“[y/n], you have all the nipples in the world. The ones, the twos, the threes, the ones on your tits. It’s fine!”

“I’m just checking!” And as you step towards the kitchen, you suddenly stop in your tracks, grab onto your crotch in shock.

“[y/n]?” you friend rushes to your side. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I…I, um, I think I just pissed myself?”

“Wh-what? Pissed yourself or did your water break?”

You look up at her in fear, “Oh my god.”

“I’ll get the hospital bag.”

“Oh my god.”

“Get some pants and shoes on, dude!”

“Oh my god,” you repeat. “I-I have to call Matthew.”

So you do. You do. Just in the knick of fucking time, your name pops up on his phone and he quickly grabs his luggage and sprints off the plane that was doomed to take off any second.

When he arrives at the hospital, he bursts into the room at full speed, thinking he’s already missed everything. Thinking it’s over. He finds you bouncing on a birthing ball and you grin at him.

“Hi, baby daddy!” you huff. “Happy birthday!”

“Hi! Hi…” he walks up to you, takes your hands in his although you do not stop bouncing. He kisses the top of your head, “Are you okay? How far along are you?”

“Three centimeters,” you pant. “And I am not getting off of this ball until it’s 10!”

“Okay, well, you have to take a break at some point. Do you need some water?”

“Nope! Just need to bounce.”

You last, maybe, five more minutes and then you need to lay down. Except you can’t. Because your contractions are ridiculous and you can never get comfortable and you end up on all fours in the bed, crying and groaning.

And three hours later, you are only 5 centimeters dilated.

Matthew lays in the bed beside you, patting your face with a rag, feeling absolutely useless. “What can I do, [y/n]? Tell me what to do.”

You cry and squeeze his hand until this contraction passes. You pant, “Y-y’know…I’ve heard sometimes…when a baby won’t come out…p-people….sometimes…”

“What? What do they do?”

“They…y’know…”

He is still confused.

“Like!” you shout in frustration. “Like, what gets the baby in also gets the baby out!”

It clicks, “Oh!” he exclaims. “Oh. Will that…will that hurt him?”

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head. “But he’ll sure as shit get the message.”

And so, two fingers, ten minutes and six big pushes later, Theodore Gray [y/l/n]-Gubler is born. He weighs eight pounds, five ounces but he feels so heavy in your arms.

Finally in your arms.

Matthew, like a big baby himself, can’t stop crying. Can’t stop looking at him. Can’t stop kissing your face, “Look at him! He’s beautiful! You did it! Oh, my god, [y/n]! Look what you did!”

Teddy is truly the best birthday gift Matthew has ever gotten.

Two days later, you’re discharged from the hospital. Matthew arranged for a car to drive you home and he installs the car seat himself. He pushes you out in a wheelchair, despite your frequent protests, and gets Teddy buckled in. He then helps you and into the car before sliding in on the opposite side of the car seat.

You cover Teddy with his blanket and touch your fingertips to his face. He’s fast asleep, but this little grin forms on his face and the two of you chuckle.

“Hey,” you coo to him. “Hey, mister man, what are you doing? Huh? You…really don’t look a thing like me.”

Matthew cackles, “Yeah. Yeah, that seems to be the general consensus.”

He follows behind you with the car seat as you unlock your front door and lead them inside.

“Should we…I mean, do we just let him sleep?” he asks you.

“Until he’s hungry, yeah,” you nod, taking Teddy from his carrier. “Oh, hi…” you whisper to him. “Hi, mister man, you wanna lay in your bed? Hm?”

You place him in his crib and he doesn’t make a sound. Doesn’t make a move. Matthew plops down on the floor, legs crisscrossed and you sit right beside him.

“He’s so fucking cool,” he tells you.

You giggle, “The coolest.”

The two of you could stare at him all day. You will.

“Is it still okay if spend the night?” he asks.

You look up at him with a smile, “Yes, we’d like that very much,” and you put your head on his shoulder.

His kisses your forehead softly, saying, “Cool.”

[traveler-at-heart]

hi!! can I sneak a request here? I think this will be too common but nat and r always bickering in front of the team (they're together but no one knows) and then one day everyone was confuse because nat got sick and the other person who's sick is r who flops beside natasha and gave her a kiss while completely unbothered in the avengers common room and everyone's like 👁️👄👁️ "are we seeing the same thing?"

I loved writing this! Thank you for the request :)

You were constantly fighting with Natasha. Most of the team had a hard time figuring out if it was because you liked her too much or not at all.

Either way, they all tried to stay out of your way when it happened. Unfortunately for Sam, you’re both in the kitchen today, and he really needs to get something to eat.

“We’re baking cookies, wanna join us?” you say while Natasha adds milk to the mix.

“That’s nice” he says, approaching with caution. 

“I know, I can’t believe Natasha didn’t know how. Lucky for her, I was willing to show her” 

“Yeah, I’m so lucky” Natasha mutters between gritted teeth and you turn to glare, holding a knife that you were using seconds ago.

“What was that?” 

“I’m so… yucky. From all the eggs that I cracked”

“It was only supposed to be half a dozen” 

“I added a bit more”

“Why the hell would you do that, Natalia?”

“Because I can, that’s why, Y/N”

You groan, putting the knife away and looking at the dough that will no longer be useful. Before Natasha can catch what you’re doing, you grab a handful of flour and throw it her way.

“Seriously?”

“What you gonna do about it, Romanoff?”

Sam sighs, silently retreating back to his room. He can order takeout. And just to be extra sure, he locks the door and puts on his headphones. It’s none of his business if you two destroy the kitchen.

That’s how he misses the next thing that happens. As soon as Natasha cleans some of the flour, she looks at you, trapping you in her arms.

“No, Nat”

But she hugs you, making sure your clothes get dirty too, and when her lips meet yours, the feeling is so nice and warm that you forget you’re gonna have to clean the kitchen and yourselves.

“Fine, we’ll bring something else to my friend’s party” you say against her lips and she kisses you once more before smiling.

“How about a nice bottle of very expensive wine from Tony’s reserve?”

“You’re evil” you laugh, holding her close. “Not a word about it, Sam… where did he go?”

“Who knows” Natasha shrugs her shoulders, and then leans down to kiss you. “Now, get out of those clothes. I want to do things that are dirtier than this kitchen”

Natasha carries you to her room, while you giggle and hold her close.

—

Movie night is always a pleasant time, especially when you and Natasha sit far away from each other and don’t argue as usual. 

You usually hang in the back with Bucky, because you’re the only one who doesn’t mind explaining him all the references that go over his head.

Today, he’s away on a mission, so you take over an entire sofa and stretch comfortably.

“That’s my spot” Natasha says.

“Find another one”

“I like this seat. The AC doesn’t hit me directly and it’s far away from Sam so I don’t have to listen to his stupid impressions”

“Hey!” he says. “I make a really good De Niro”

“No, you don’t” everyone says at the same time.

“What’s in it for me?” you smile, crossing your arms. 

“Not getting your ass kicked to the point where you can’t sit anywhere else”

“Someone likes it rough” you tease her, and her smile makes you break. “Fine, we can share, but you’re giving me a foot massage”

“I am not”

The redhead sighs, but you still place your feet on her lap. For the first ten minutes, everyone’s tense, waiting for the fight to continue. But, to their surprise, Natasha’s hand is going up and down your leg, while you lean against her. 

Pretty soon, their focus is back on the movie. Until…

“Who’s snoring?” Tony says, looking around. He turns back and finds you sound asleep, your head now resting in Natasha’s lap. The redhead is running her hands through your hair.

“Looking for something?” Natasha snaps and Stark looks back to the screen.

You don’t wake up until the credits are rolling.

“Is it over?” you say, rubbing your eyes.

“I don’t know, we couldn’t hear because of all your snoring”

“I don’t snore”

Natasha scoffs and looks around, but everyone stays silent.

“Cowards!”

“I don’t snore. Come on, you didn’t finish that massage” 

But Natasha is already standing up, walking to her room.

“Get away from me. And go to a doctor, you’re gonna choke in your sleep one day” 

You laugh, following her to her room. Everyone else thinks you’re probably gonna bicker for a while longer, but all you’re planning is to cuddle and fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

—

It’s a quiet afternoon, with Bucky and Steve watching a game while Clint is fixing an old radio.

But pretty soon, they can hear the familiar sound of two voices arguing.

“Pick one” you say, chasing Natasha. 

“They’re the same” 

“They are not the same” you insist, holding the paint samples closer to her eyes. “Look at them”

“I am. This is blue. And so is this one”

“Oh” you flip them, eyeing them for a second too long. “I’m sorry, Nat. I didn’t know you were blind. This is shappire and this is egyptian. Pick one”

“Are we repainting the common area or something?”  Clint asks Steve and Bucky, but they just shrug their shoulders. Like wild creatures, it is better to not look at either one of you when you’re arguing.

“Neither. I think green might be better”

“I am not going back to the store to get more samples so you can tell me they are both the same green!”

“Fine, I will. In fact, they won’t be samples. I’ll get the paint and you’ll like it”

She turns, finishing the conversation.

“At least wear a damn jacket, it’s gonna rain” when she ignores you, you groan, getting her coat and yours. “Honestly, Natalia”

—

It’s game night, another one of the traditions you’ve incorporated since welcoming new and younger team members like Peter.

You’re starting with charades and Peter, Tony and Bucky are on your team. 

The category is thrillers and you’re on the edge of your seat, waiting for Peter to start. He smiles real big and you shout.

“The Shining!”

“Yes!”

Silence of the Lambs, Taxi Driver, Jaws, Sixth Sense all come up and you guess them one right after the other.

“We’re leading by ten points” Tony says, looking at the iPad. You high five Peter, smiling as Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Alright, I’m next” Steve says and you have to cover your mouth to keep from giggling.

“Uh… pass” he grabs another paper and then another, and a third one. “Pass”

“I’m gonna kick your ass” Natasha groans, massaging her temples.

“Oh, I know this one” he says, doing the signal for movie.

“We already know it’s a movie, hurry up” Natasha looks ready to throw him across the room. 

Steve hunches over, his arms dangling low. He then jumps around, alternating between one feet and the other.

“Hunchback of Notre Dame. Uh… The flying monkeys of Wizard of Oz? Elephant man?”

“It’s King Kong” Steve says and everyone bursts out laughing.

“Are you kidding me?” Natasha says, while your team toasts. You’ve won, yet again.

“Better luck next time. And I hope you haven’t forgotten our little bet” you say, fixing the collar of Natasha’s shirt.

“What bet?” Clint asks and you both turn around at the same time.

“Nothing” 

You excuse yourself, going to the bathroom. The next game is Jenga, and you think you’ll pass, because there’s no way you can beat Peter. As you go back to the living room, you approach Natasha.

“Don’t be a sore loser, baby” you say, making sure no one can hear you. “I know the bet was that the winner gets to do anything they want in bed… but I do have a little peace offering”

You place your underwear in her pocket, smiling as she blushes. 

“Something to look forward to” you wink, walking back to the table as Clint starts the game.

Yeah, thinking about it, Natasha hadn’t lost at all.

—

The day is a bit dark, and gloomy. The morning was slow and the afternoon has been the same.

“It’s quiet” Clint comments, looking out the window as the rain keeps falling.

“Mhm” Sam agrees, sipping his coffee.

“A bit… too quiet, don’t you think?”

Everyone’s supposed to be at the Compound, and yet, there’s no arguing or sassy comebacks.

“Do you think they finally killed each other?” Clint says and Sam chuckles.

“Maybe. If the flu hasn’t killed Nat yet”

“Oh, she’s sick?” Clint feels bad for not knowing. “Maybe I’ll get her some soup…”

“Hey” someone greets from the door. You’re wrapped in a blanket, wearing one of Natasha’s t-shirts and holding a box of tissues. “Sorry, I won’t stay long. I’m just getting us some tea” 

“Us?” 

But you’re too tired to hear what Sam says. You prepare two steaming cups and drag your feet to the living room, Clint and Sam following close behind.

“Why aren’t you in our room, baby?” you say, sitting next to Natasha. You kiss her forehead and smile. “Hey, your fever’s down”

“I told you not to stay in my room. Now you’re sick too” she coughs, but nuzzles your neck and sighs. 

“Shut up and drink your tea, Tasha”

“This whole time, YOU TWO HAVE BEEN TOGETHER” Sam shouts and you make a face.

“Can you not do that thing with your mouth? The talking thing”

“But we thought…” Clint says, looking between the two of you.

“We thought you hated each other”

“Sometimes, because she can be a pain in the ass” you say, laughing when Natasha pokes your side. “Nah, that’s not true. I love her”

Natasha smiles against your neck, pulling you down to take a nap.

“Love you too” she says against your hair and you yawn.

Clint and Sam leave the room, as if they’ve seen a ghost. 

“Is everything ok?” Steve says, running into them.

“Cap, you’re not gonna believe this” 

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Please Please Please - Rafe Cameron Short Story (Part 1 of 6)

+18 Minor DNI

Older MobDealer!Rafe x Female Reader

🪄 re-uploaded because I had to make a new account.

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

3333 words

Warnings contain spoilers: domestic assault, cheating, swearing, name-calling, gaslighting, threats, and mentions of killing partner, general violence. Every chapter after this, will have Rafe as the focal point.

📖 Loosely based on the song and music video Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter 💕

✨“Stopping in your tracks, you watch the tall blonde struggle to break free. He grits his teeth, fighting against the cuffs, his broad chest gaping at the buttons of his black button-down shirt. He looks like he’s been through it; a gashed lip, the bottom of his pressed shirt half-tucked, his hair messy and sweaty against his dewy, tanned skin.”✨

*blue font is present day

Reader’s POV:

Red wine, Tony’s favorite, Cabernet Sauvignon specifically. Tokara Telos, the first bottle of wine we shared on our very first date. Fitting for our two year anniversary. Slowly swirling the glass you watch the rich red wine cascade down the side. You look at the oven, eyeing the clock, watching a second hour pass. Nine… Dinner was set for seven. Where the hell is he? Maybe he texted me? Maybe he’s in a business meeting gone long or wrong?

Unread to read. Your heart skips a beat as you watch the three dots impatiently; Tony finally acknowledging you, letting you know where the fuck he is and what the hell he’s doing.

Nothingness.

The three dots disappear leaving behind the disappointing chain of messages.

Is he with someone else?

I hate that that’s where my mind goes first, since he’s assured me time and time again he’s faithful and I’m paranoid. It’s hard to give him the benefit of the doubt when there’s so much to doubt. Every excuse just sounds so fabricated with him, corroborated by his goons so I don’t have a leg to stand on.

Then there’s the talk around the country club… It’s just whispers, no real proof, but I swear it’s so goddamn loud. I’m rarely at the Island Club, but when I am, I can see the eyes on us. The cutting watch of women who Tony could possibly be seeing on the side; gossip shared just out of earshot. Everyones’ pity and focus always seems to be directed at me.

It’s embarrassing to feel like everyone knows my drama but me. No one opens their mouths. Ya know why? They’re scared… Scared of him. And I don’t blame ‘em. I’d be scared too.

So here I sit. Getting stood up by my boyfriend while he’s out doing god knows what, with god knows who, because he can. He can do whatever he’d like, break my heart, bruise my ego, because deep down I know there’s nothing I can do… The day I met him was the day I lost myself.

“Vlad,” you call from the kitchen, your voice bouncing off the walls of the lavish estate. “Vlad?”

“Miss?” Tony’s driver comes around the corner with a broad smile, taking in the smells of whatever lingers of the now cold pom de terre. “Smells delicious, Miss. I didn’t know you were a cook.”

“I’m not,” you sigh through a labored laugh. “Just thought I’d make what we had on our first date,” you hum, hearing the drunken slur in your own voice. Vlad cocks an eyebrow, clocking it instantly. “Umm… Dinner was supposed to be at seven,” you sough, gesturing with your glass toward the clock. “Do you know where he-”

“How was lunch with Anna?” He cuts you short, quickly changing the subject, leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Where’s Tony,” you return, trying your best to level your wavering tone, dismissing his “pleasantries”.

“The office-”

“What office exactly?” You snip, knowing it’s the Law Firm or The Country Club. Vlad’s gaze casts to the floor. He shuffles his Italian leather boot anxiously, not as good with his “excuses” as the other men on Tony’s payroll. It’s a wordless answer nonetheless - The Country Club. “Can you take me there? I want to make sure he has some dinner. I’m assuming he’s been there all day. The meeting just went long?” You ramble, without a verbal answer from him, gathering your things to leave as the older man flounders.

"Miss…” He cautions you, taking his turn with a faltering tone, making matters worse for Tony.

“Is there an issue?” You ask as you lift an eyebrow in his direction.

“Mr. Marietta is in an important meeting. As you know, they’re not usually the safest situations, and he demands your safety. Tony expressed to me that he would be home late. Would you like me to call him and ask when he’ll be coming home?” You roll your eyes, chuckling in disbelief as you stroll past him.

“I am perfectly capable of that,” you breathe as you snag a new bottle of red wine, heading out the door.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦

The Country Club comes into sight, the gaudy neon sign flickering from a distance. The parking lot is packed, littered with cars; always jam-packed on the weekends. Kooks, Pogues, and tourists alike all brought together for their shared love of pussy.

“Park there,” you guide from the backseat as you spot Tony’s blacked-out Maybach truck parked under the streetlight. Vlad locks eyes with you through the rearview mirror.

“Would you like me to call him before you go inside, Miss?” You shake your head ‘no’ as you look out the window, drawing a deep, nervous breath before pushing out.

What am I walking into?

“Y/n?” Luis, Tony’s bodyguard and bouncer, calls from his seat outside the door. “What are you doin’ here?” He looks in all directions for watchers-on anxiously, the blood drained from his face like he’d just seen a ghost. Only a handful of people even know that Tony owns this shithole. To virtually everyone on the Island he’s just another Kook King. The Marietta to the Marietta and Klaus Law Firm. This is simply a front for something bigger, something Tony can use to wash his dirty drug money; a front. “You just missed Tony,” he lies through his gold-capped teeth.

“He’s here,” you smile as you step toward the door, grabbing the handle. Luis rests his large palm on top, looking down at you blankly. “He’s in a meeting, Miss.”

“And-” You ask as you twist the knob, but Luis doesn’t budge. “Move.”

“No.”

“Get the fuck out of my way,” you snap. Luis’s jaw tightens as he shakes his head ‘no’ standing firm. “You said he wasn’t here. Now he’s here and I can’t go in? That’s my fuckin’ boyfriend,” you hiss.

“I have orders, ma’am.”

“Orders?” You scoff.

“Orders-”

“Pussy,” you spit, turning on your heels, heading back where you came. Plan B. You pick up speed, clipping down the asphalt before he can intervene, following the line of men waiting outside, before slipping through the front door.

Your head hangs low as you walk through the dim, seedy hallway, pushing past patrons sauntering in and out of the gentlemen’s club. The main floor. I’ve never been here… The office is the farthest I’ve gone. You catch a few familiar faces from the Island Club, their eyes doubling in disbelief and shame for seeing you here and being seen themselves. Music blares as you storm toward the back; beautiful women dancing on the stage in nothing but Pleasers for the swarm of men gathered around, flicking and raining ones on the stage.

“Yes,” you gasp as you watch a stripper step out from behind the back-of-house door; catching it before it swings shut. Just a few paces and you’re there. You slide in your key and open the office door without a second thought, ripping off the bandaid.

Nothing… The office is dark, only the light of Tony’s laptop glowing in the empty post. Maybe he is gone. You step toward it, letting your heart rate settle as you circle his desk.

The corner of your lips curl into a trembling smile as you see a framed picture of the two of you on his desk. A post-it note affixed to the top with a reminder for tonight’s date.

Maybe I am paranoid… You pull out his large leather desk chair, taking a seat. Drawing a deep, needed breath, you let your shoulders fall, releasing some of your tension. It doesn’t explain why his truck is still here… Your eyes flash open, returning to the worry at hand landing on a bar napkin. Red lipstick.

Your stomach sinks as you hold the note, your eyes flicking to the laptop screen. Oh my god. Your heart shatters as you watch a blonde bounce on Tony’s lap, his lips locked on hers.

“No…”

“I know,” you sigh as you relax your head back onto the cold brick wall of Kildare County Jail, looking up at the ceiling.

“Did ya kill 'em?” The woman asks in a gruff tone as she crosses her arms over her chest, tits spilling out of her tattered, lace bralette as she snaps her gum. “S'that why you’re in here?”

“Thought about it? But no. That’s not why I’m here.” You open your heavy eyes, taking in your surroundings, contemplating all the choices that landed you here. The worst of it, ever being with him in the first place.

“So, what happened next?”

“Well…”

There’s a brief separation as Tony draws away from their kiss, staring toward the door of the Champagne Room. Luis… He must have figured it out. Tony pushes the stripper off his lap, gathering his clothes as he frantically dresses.

Here we go.

You hear the muffled bang of the first door and the gritting of his key working the lock on the second. You watch as the knob twists, light flooding the room as Tony pushes into the office coming toward you fast. Tony grabs your shoulders, and you fight him off. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me,” you snap.

“Baby, please. You gotta talk to me? What’s going on? Why are you so upset? Please just talk to me,” he pleads like he’s done before; times when I gave him the benefit of the doubt; times when I believed I could be the problem here. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“Tony!” You cry. “Are you fuckin delusional? I saw you fuckin’ that stripper with my own two eyes.”

“Princess, she was just dancing. It was a lap dance. Alright? You have to believe me.”

“Just a lap dance…” You scoff looking down at his undone belt, zipper down, dress pants pitched from his hard-on. He follows your eyes, hastily zipping and fastening his pants closed.

“I don’t know what you think you saw-”

“We’re done,” you chuckle tiredly as you step back, throwing open the side office door. Tony immediately reaches for you, clawing for your arm. “Let go of me,” you struggle.

“You’re not leavin’,” he asserts, pulling you back inside.

“I am. I’m done with you. It’s our anniversary, Tony. Look at where you are. Look at what you’re doing. How could you do this to me?”

“Do what? It was just a dance. I just got out of a major deal. Alright? I was about head home-”

“Liar!”

“Liar?” He questions. “Did you just call me a liar?” He asks as you feel the sting of his blunt fingernails digging into your arm.

“I know what I saw…”

“Princess… Even if I was lying. What the fuck are you gonna do about it. Huh? You’re mine, bitch. I own you. Where are you gonna go? What money do you have? How are you gonna afford this lifestyle you’ve become so accustomed to? Spending my hard-earned money like the gold-digging slut you are. You should be grateful,” he snarls as he steps toe-to-toe with you using his free hand to tug his leather belt from the loops of his pants.

You look up into his dark eyes as cruel words spit so readily from his wicked lips like he’s had time to prepare. I’ve seen this side of him, only once. He’s an evil man, and I know that. But this sort of cruelty has never been reserved for me. Until today. He grips his belt a little tighter in his fist making you take a few steps back but he stalks closer.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he threatens.

“I am,” you whisper as you try to remain firm.

“I don’t think you understand this relationship we’ve got goin’ on, sweetheart. You go when I say you go,” he growls, tracing the belt along your bare thigh. “Do you think you’ll have a life after me? You think I’ll allow that shit.” He winds up smacking it against your skin. You gnash your teeth in pain, holding back tears, the most horrifying part knowing he could go far harder. “You know too much. You’re a liability. You have nothing. You are nothing without me. And you will be nothing without me.” Chills fall down your spine at his words and the crazed look in his eyes, his pupils blown from coke, pleasure, and rage.

“M'not scared of you.”

“You’re not. Huh? My tough girl.” He leans in; lips draw to your neck, kissing your pulse point, your rapid heartbeat calling your bluff as you inhale Cassidy’s cheap perfume lingering on his skin. You pinch your eyes shut as his large hand threads into your hair, tugging slightly while the other soothes your stinging thigh with his rough palm.

“I came from nothing, Tony. I’ll be fine.”

He scoffs as he uses his grasp on your strands to shove you away, letting the back of your head and body bang against the side door. Tony buttons up his still-undone shirt; bright red lipstick stained on the collar as well as his neck, a dark hickey forming to boot. Tears roll down your cheeks as you stand there defeated in your date night dress, your perfect makeup now streaming down your cheeks as you look into his soulless eyes.

“Fuck you, Tony.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” he chuckles as he pulls a cigarette out from behind his ear, placing it between his lips before snapping his lighter. “You leave, and I’ll find you. I own Figure 8, princess. Hell, I own this whole damn island. You better not make it too hard on me, baby doll. It’s our anniversary, after all. I’m sure you got somethin’ pretty for Daddy under that little dress of yours. I know you like it rough… but you might not make it out this time,” he laughs as he tosses his belt roughly toward his desk, the picture of the two of you clattering and shattering on the floor.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Me? Never… But if my hands are wrapped tight enough around that pretty little throat of yours and you don’t have enough juice to shout our safe word that’s on you, angel.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’ll give you a 5 minute head start, love. That seems fair?”

You grab the door and pull it open, taking a few steps before turning around again, pressing your back against the cool door, holding it shut as you look for an out. Luis is gone from his post, most likely keeping watch on the opposite end, Vlad in the parking lot, open water on the other side. There’s no way I can go back home. No family close by. No car. No escape. Looking out into the busy parking lot, you watch a squad car slow-roll through the back of the lot. Perfect.

Thank you, Luis. You reach down, snagging his Louisville Slugger perched against the weathered barstool. "Miss?” You hear his bodyguard’s frantic voice as he rounds the corner. You run into the lot as fast as your feet can take you, swerving around cars; dodging Luis.

You slam your eyes shut, swinging hard, nailing Tony’s Maybach truck, shattering the glass. The car alarm blares, echoing through the large lot. “Y/n!” Luis yells, but you swing and swing again.

“Y/n!” Tony barks from the door. You point the bat in his direction, twirling it before knocking off the wing mirror and sending it flying. A second siren fires, the sound of the police cruiser blares through the night, competing with the truck as it gets closer and closer.

You nail the glass, shards spilling into the truck as the cruiser pulls up, moving to the front of the vehicle you make your delinquency visible, quickly knocking out each headlight while the deputies climb out of their vehicle. “Get on the ground. Get on the ground now!” They holler.

“Deputy, this… this is a misunderstanding,” Tony assures as he enters the lot, softening his voice again.

“No, it’s not. And if I had a knife, I’d slash your tires, asshole.” The officers grab for you, expecting a fight, ultimately getting the latter. You cross your arms behind your back, smiling at Tony as they lock you in cuffs.

"Well, shit,” the older woman chuckles as she pulls you back to reality.

“Mhmm… but I’m a liability. After that little stunt I pulled, I know I’m living on borrowed time. Jail is the only place I could leave and be safe for the night. It’s just a band aid though; a temporary fix. I’m sure he’ll bail me out any minute, but who knows what’ll happen? I want to show him I’m not afraid.”

She purses her lips, debating whether to ask the million dollar question. “Are you?” She asks somberly.

“I wish I wasn’t-”

“L/n, someone just bailed your ass out. Let’s go,” an officer calls from outside the cell. The woman beside you taps your leg, giving you a little nod.

“He lays a finger on you, honey, I got no problem comin’ back here.”

“Thank you,” you whisper before turning toward the officer, giving her a wide, fake smile.

You rise to your feet, fixing your dress as you walk to out-processing. “To the left.”

Shupe matches your gaze from his post, giving you a wary glance. “M'am, are these your belongings?” He asks as he holds up the plastic bag of goods. You give him a soft smile and a nod. “Sure you got nothin’ you wanna tell me, Miss F/N L/N. Now’s the time,” Shupe warns. “You know, it’s Tony who posted your bail. He’s waitin’ for you outside-”

“I’m fine. Just fine, Deputy,” you assure as you fish your lipstick out from your clutch, slicking it on in the reflection of the privacy glass. “It was nothin’. Just a misunderstanding, as I said.”

“Just fine? Trashing Mr. Marietta’s Maybach truck was nothing? Just a normal night for the two of you?” He asks sarcastically.

You look at him and smile, dead-eyed and defeated. “It was our anniversary, actually.” Shupe’s eyes widen at yours, the occasion making your story even more unbelievable. “Have a great day, Deputy.”

“This is not a beauty pageant,” the female officer grunts, shooing you toward the exit.

I don’t know if I made the right choice… but I’m not gonna snitch. If I want to survive, I’m going to have to be strategic.

“I’m cooperating. Ain’t I?” You hear a deep voice echo down the hallway.

Stopping in your tracks, you watch the tall blonde struggle to break free. He grits his teeth, fighting against the cuffs, his broad chest gaping at the buttons of his black button-down shirt. He looks like he’s been through it; a gashed lip, the bottom of his pressed shirt half-tucked, his hair messy and sweaty against his dewy, tanned skin.

His eyes match yours; even from a distance, you can see how blue they are. His entire demeanor shifts, softening as a smile pulls on his pretty lips. A smile so beautiful, you can’t help but return the same.

There’s something magnetic about him, an intensity drawing your focus to him like a moth to a flame. He winks, and in that instant, everything changes. There’s no mistaking the connection swelling between you.

“Hey,” he mouths; your breath catches in your chest, pulse-quickening as time slows to a snail’s-pace. He looks at you until the last minute before being shoved inside his confinements. The metal door slams shut, jarring you from your daze, the bustle of the jail building from the solace in your mind.

Who was that?

It was momentary… a fleeting beat. The calm before the storm. You get pushed along, shoved toward the exit, and away from a sweet dream, thrown straight into a nightmare.

Part 2

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