#i can't wait for my babies to come back to me!!!

[harrysfolklore]

i see your face in every crowd - op81

summary: the asutralian grand prix is right around the corner and oscar's face is everywhere in melbourne, his ex girlfriend can't help but miss him (he misses her too)

folkie radio: if you know me you know i'm a sucker for an exes to lovers trope, and honestly this one is one of my faves i've ever done. ENJOY AND LEAVE FEEDBACK

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by oliviarodrigo, lando and 2,107,399 others

yourinstagram back home for a bit... needed some time to reset & breathe. been writing loads lately - the songs are just pouring out 🌊 feeling more inspired than ever tbh. can't wait to share what i've been working on with u all soon. huge thank u for all the love lately, means more than u know xx

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username1 BABYYYY

username2 i'm happy she's home and surrounded by love

sabrinacarpenter miss ur face already 😭 these songs are about to end lives fr

chappellroan THEYRE NOT READY FOR WHAT'S COMING!!! also pls come back to LA soon i'm dying without u

username3 chappellynbrina is a forever thing

username4 the way melbourne gp is gonna be so awkward next month...

└ username1 why does everyone have to make everything about that 🙄 let them live

└ username2 no fr like can we focus on the music instead

username5 oscar ain't shit anyway, ur so much better without him queen

└ username3 y'all don't even know what happened, stop being toxic

└ username6 they literally both asked for privacy can u respect that maybe

alexandrasaintmleux being home suits u sm! can't wait for the new era

└ username2 once a wag always a wag

username7 THE BREAKUP ALBUM IS COMING AND IM HERE FOR IT

username8 take all the time u need but also pls drop a song soon we're starving 😩

lando yooo text me when you get the chance !

└ username1 THEIR FRIENDSHIP LIVES

└username2 oscar piastri you can't break this one

username9 some of y'all are being so mean for no reason, they were cute together and now they're not, it happens

username10 manifesting a collab with sabrina on this album 🕯️

liked by lando, alex_albon and 467,958 others

oscarpiastri Last few days of prep before heading home for the season opener. Ready 💪

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username1 THATS MY BABY GOAT

username2 we're so taking that wdc this year

lando looking a bit weak mate might need another few months of training

└ oscarpiastri stick to gaming mate

└ carlossainz55 Children, behave 😂

└ username1 THIS INTERACTION

username3 we're so back. man's entering his thirst trap era and we love to see it

└ username1 healing through gym pics, real

username4 the transformation from rookie to absolute unit we love to see it

username5 melbourne's gonna go crazy for him

└ username2 the city will be pretty much covered with his face

username7 the post-breakup glow >>>>>>

username8 bro said watch me get faster AND hotter

username9 yn is stronger than me bc i definitely would've given him another chance

georgerussell63 Looking strong 💪🏼

└ lando but still slower than me

└ oscarpiastri We'll see about that mate

└ username3 WHAT IS LANDO'S PROBLEM

aussiegp Our hometown hero getting ready to give us a show 🇦🇺

username10 YN GET BACK WITH HIM I BEGGG

liked by shortandbrina, livbedumb and 119 others

definitelynotyn not me stalking his instagram at 2am with a glass of rosé in hand... why he gotta post gym pics looking like THAT 😭 someone take my phone away fr because what if i do something stupid like text him rn???? also why does he have to look so good while training I HATE HIM

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shortandbrina girl DELETE instagram rn i'm not joking!! calling u in 2 mins

└ definitelynotyn too late i already watched his story 3 times help

midwestprincess this is why we don't drink wine alone bestie... coming over with ice cream and we're watching mean girls

└ definitelynotyn pls hurry before i do something stupid like listen to our playlist

livbedumb first rule of breakups: BLOCK THE GYM PROGRESS POSTS!!!! trust me on this one

└ definitelynotyn but what if i just want to check if he's doing okay 🥲

└ gracieeeeee she's lost it completely someone intervene

arithegood not me literally writing a song about this exact situation last week 💀 wine drunk stalking is universal bestie

└ definitelynotyn pls send me the song i just know it'll hurt so good

phoebenotbuffay okay but like... we've all been there 😭 remember when i almost texted #him after he decided to walk around in those short shorts

└ definitelynotyn at least urs wasn't wearing race suits that make his arms look like THAT

whostaylorswiftanyway time to write a song about it bestie x

└ definitelynotyn already got three verses and a bridge done ngl

liked by username1, username2 and 6,974 others

f1updates Melbourne is getting ready for the Australian GP! The city is covered in @/oscarpiastri billboards and posters as they prepare to welcome their home hero

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username1 imagine being yn trying to get coffee and boom there's your ex's face on a 50ft billboard 💀

username2 the way you literally can't escape his face anywhere in the cbd this week

username3 the way this gp would've been so different if they were still together... remember last year?

└ username1 they were the cutest in the paddock

└ username2 pls she probably won't even be in melbourne this year

username4 our boy is everywhere and we love to see it!!

username5 the promotional team really said oscar piastri world domination

username6 the billboards are giving everything they need to give tbh

username7 maybe she should drop the breakup album during race week for maximum chaos

└ username1 now that would be iconic behavior

└ username3 the way the charts and the podium would be fighting for his attention

username8 MELBOURNE IS OSCARLAND

username9 imagine not being an oscar fan rn… or worse, being his ex

username10 CAN SOMEBODY THINK OF OUR GIRL YN

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liked by lando, charles_leclerc and 597,388 others

oscarpiastri Seems like there's a few of me around Melbourne at the moment... has anyone noticed? 😅

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username1 OSCAR FUCKING PIASTRI

username2 HE DID NOT

lando bit of an upgrade for the city tbh └ oscarpiastri Better than your face mate

username3 OH HE'S MESSY FOR THIS ONE

└ username1 posting this RIGHT after her story i'm screaming

username4 he chose violence today and i'm here for it

mclaren Our guy's everywhere! Can't wait for the weekend 🧡

└ username2 admin pretending they don't see what's happening here

username5 THE TIMING OF THIS POST??? someone's feeling petty

username6 he really said "oh you can't escape me? let me show you why" 💀

georgerussell63 Just ran into your face in the airport

username7 the way he probably had these pics ready and WAITED

username8 bro saw her story and chose chaos

danielricciardo looking good mate! although i remember when it was my face everywhere 👴 └ oscarpiastri Times change old man

username9 it's giving "oh you miss seeing me? here's more" energy actually

username10 focusing on the important stuff: he looks good in every single billboard

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liked by harrystyles, sabrinacarpenter and 1,389,647 others

yourinstagram missing tour life so much today! can't wait to get back on the road and see all your beautiful faces again 💕 thankful for the memories we've made together x

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username1 MY GIRL I MISS HER

username2 the way she posted this exactly after THAT story... we see you

└ username3 damage control era

troyesivan SUPERSTAR 🤩🤩

username4 girl we know what (who) you're really missing

└ username2 not her trying to distract us 😭

username5 we're not fooled bestie but we support you

sabrinacarpenter miss you too angel!! ❤️

└ yourinstagram love you sabs 🥺

username6 NOT THE DAMAGE CONTROL POST

username7 WE NEED A TOUR ASAP

gracieabrams I miss being on the road with you 🥹🥹

username8 EVERYONE TALKIG ABOUT OSCAR HELP

username9 can we talk about how good she looked on tour though??

username10 the way she's probably sitting with sabrina rn planning damage control posts

└ username11 the group chat must be WILD right now

liked by midwestprincess, livbedumb and 109 others

definitelynotyn well. something just came in the mail and i think i might actually throw up. universe really said "you thought that instagram story wasn't enough embarrassment for one day?"

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shortnbrina GIRL CHECK YOUR TEXTS RN

└ definitelynotyn I'M HAVING A CRISIS

midwestprincess the way i SPRINTED here when you texted

└ definitelynotyn help what do i do

└ midwestprincess BREATHE FIRST

gracieeee wait is that what i think it is? 🏁

└ definitelynotyn 🙃🙃🙃

└ gracieeee OH MY GOD????

livbedumb the timing… someone's been plotting

└ definitelynotyn don't. i can't think about that.

maddiebeer okay but like… are you going?

└ definitelynotyn MADS PLS I'M ALREADY SPIRALING

└ maddiebeer that's not a no 👀

arithegood manifesting a rain delay so you have to stay longer

└ definitelynotyn I HAVEN'T EVEN DECIDED IF I'M GOING

└ arithegood sure jan

phoebenotbuffay imagine if you'd actually posted this on main too

└ definitelynotyn DON'T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT

└ phoebenotbuffay too soon? 😂

dulapeep at least you have time to plan outfits

└ definitelynotyn NOT HELPING

└ dulapeep the green dress. trust me.

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liked by lando, charles_leclerc and 665,583 others

oscarpiastri Close. Bring on tomorrow

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username1 THATS MY BABY GOAT

username2 oscar piastri man of few words

username3 pole position if he was still with yn

mclaren Our home champ 🧡

username4 OKAY CHAT DO WE THINK YN WILL ATTEND THE RACE??

└ username1 maybe focus on racing?? this isn't about his ex

lando sorry about that

└ oscarpiastri Should've just let me keep it

username5 can't help but think about yn in parc fermé for his win tomorrow but they're not together anymore

username6 HES WINNING TOMORROW THERE'S NOTHING THAT CAN CHANGE THAT

charles_leclerc An existential crisis later

└ carlossainz55 Let him breathe

└ username1 HUUUH WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT

username7 brb listening to yn's songs about him.. specially lover

liked by midwestprincess, shortandbrina and 107 others

definitelynotyn watching from my couch because apparently i'm the biggest coward in the universe. the pass is literally staring at me from my coffee table. i hate myself.

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shortnbrina GET IN YOUR CAR RIGHT NOW

└ definitelynotyn I CAN'T

└ shortnbrina YES YOU CAN I'M CALLING YOU AN UBER

midwestprincess GIRL THERE'S STILL 40 LAPS YOU CAN LITERALLY MAKE IT

└ definitelynotyn and then what?? walk in mid-race??

└ midwestprincess YES EXACTLY LIKE A MAIN CHARACTER WOULD

livbedumb not you watching his every move on tv when you could be there

└ definitelynotyn this is less scary ok

└ livbedumb is it though??

maddiebeer remember when you said you'd never be that girl who's too scared to face her feelings?

└ definitelynotyn low blow mads

whostaylorswiftanyway THE PASS IS RIGHT THERE GO GET YOUR MAN

└ definitelynotyn STOP YELLING AT ME

└ whostaylorswiftanyway NO

gracieeee remember when you said his note was the sweetest thing ever? remember crying about how much you missed him? but sure stay on your couch

└ definitelynotyn this is emotional manipulation

definitelynotyn FINE YALL WIN. CALLING A CAR RN

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liked by shortnbrina, landitooooo and 113 others

definitelynotyn we did some talking. then we did some kissing. then we did some more talking. then we did some more kissing. might have cried a bit (him too). wearing his sweatshirt again. life's funny sometimes.

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midwestprincess OH GOD FINALLY

gracieeee I'M SOBBING

leclercccccc FINALLY you accepted the follow request

└ definitelynotyn oh my god

└ leclercccccc i helped with the speech you know

└ notoscarpiastri mate.

└ leclercccccc you're welcome btw

landitooooo took you both long enough bloody hell

└ notoscarpiastri says you

└ landitooooo oi what's that supposed to mean

└ shortnbrina no idea really

└ definitelynotyn lando norris and sabrina carpenter... there's stuff you need to explain

arithegood THE TIMELINE HAS BEEN RESTORED

└ definitelynotyn dramatic much

└ arithegood says the girl who showed up mid-race

whostaylorswiftanyway I expect a full debrief tomorrow but I'm happy for you my girl

notoscarpiastri Can we go back to the kissing?

└ definitelynotyn please

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popbuzz YN AND OSCAR PIASTRI SPOTTED TOGETHER IN MELBOURNE

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username1 THE SWEATSHIRT THE SWEATSHIRT THE SWEATSHIRT

└ username2 SHE'S WEARING HIS CLOTHES AGAIN

username3 FROM SPINNING OUT TO BREAKFAST DATES IN 24 HOURS

└ username2 character development at its finest

username4 IM GOING TO CRY THEY'RE BACK TOGETHER

username5 Sources say he went to her place last night...

└ username1 and didn't leave 👀

username6 I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY REALLY GOT BACK TOGETHER

username7 this is proof that crying over your ex on main actually works

username8 YN IS A WAG AGAIN OMFG

username9 everybody say thank you australia gp billboards with oscar's face

username10 OSCAR LOVE SONGS ARE SO BACK

username11 WE WON SO HARD

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oscarpiastri Home race took some unexpected turns both on and off track. P9 wasn't the result we wanted, but somehow still ended up winning this weekend.

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username1 HE'S SOOOO

username2 LOST THE RACE BUT GOT THE GIRL??

lando mate that's actually smooth

└ oscarpiastri Learned from the best

mclaren We'll take this kind of victory too 🧡

username3 THE THIRD PICTURE IM SOBBING

username4 mans really said forget p9 i got the girl

username5 HE'S SO BOYFRIEND WE'RE SO BACK

nicolepiastri ❤️

username6 OSCAR PIASTRI THE MAN THAT YOU ARE

username7 oscar's guide to get back with your ex with just ten simple steps

sabrinacarpenter FINALLY !!! OUR GIRL CAN STOP MOPING AROUND

└ chappellroan now we need oscar's friend to grow some balls too

└ oscarpiastri @/lando

└ lando well...

└ username1 OMFG LANDO AND SABRINA??

└ username2 WHAT JUST HAPPENED

username8 I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL LIFE

yourinstagram 🥺🥺 i love you

[zepskies]

Omg yay!! @tofics Welcome back, friend!! ❤️❤️ I'm so glad you're tuning into this one because you'll see some Smoke Eater type stuff in this mini series too - with the added fun of a plus-sized reader. 😘

Okay, first of all - love love loooveeee @redhoodieone for requesting this and @zepskies for bringing it to life. Firefighter!Dean just does things to me. And yes, Alex, it's all your fault. (Thank you!) And now the reader is an ELEMENTARY TEACHER? ARE YOU KIDDING ME! That only happens to be what I'm studying! It's like this trope was written for me 😭

Omg that's right!! I love that you can relate to this story on multiple levels, and the reader being an elementary teacher was part of the request too! ❤️

Now. I know I've said it before, but as a plus-size girly myself, reading fics where the reader is plus-size herself not only helps with the immersion, but also becomes even more of a delight when they're pictured as desirable. And you did such a good job with that. The repeated slaps on reader's ass, his obvious attraction to her, but most importantly, his outrage when she calls herself fat. Like he can't even believe she'd think of herself that way, because that title simply never occurred to him. Such a rewarding and healing thing to read! 🥹

Ughhh I feel you so much here. Me being plus-sized myself, it's always fun for me to give myself this escape and write how I wish all of us would be treated, especially when we get down on ourselves. That scene at the end was very self-indulgent in a way, but at the same time it made sense for the reader character and how Dean sees her! And also, I just feel that Dean wouldn't mind having his hands full. 😏❤️‍🔥

And god, all those feelings of comparing herself to Lisa and Jo. I wish I didn't know that sinking feeling in her gut when she talked about how she had to slim herself down to fit into the dress, while Lisa and Jo do it so effortlessly. Or the absolute gut-punch that was Lisa's talk about "sticking to a clean diet for the baby" - as if she gives two shits about the little one growing in reader's belly 😒 Ten bucks say she secretly wishes there was no baby to begin with (which, honestly, theoretically I can't blame her for...), nor that she cares about the reader's "health". Fat shaming packaged as "caring". 🤮 Ugh, it made me so mad just reading it! (You wrote it so well 🥲)

lmfaooo pure personal experience on this one! 😅 While I'm sorry you can relate to the reader here like I do, I'm glad you thought it was written well! Lisa being a total bitch in this one loll, disguised in "niceness and politeness" to me is always worse than being blatantly nasty for some reason. It's more like the kinds of things we probably deal with on the day-to-day, when you don't know if something knows they're being a bitch or not, or if they're really trying to hurt you.

GIRL. Now why was this so freaking hot. Jesus Christ. And then his admiration when she's on top next morning 😭

Because who would expect a selfless (generous) man on a one-night stand? 🤭

*dreamy sigh* And this. THIS. The moment where he catches her disappointment. (Cause, ngl, I would've been uncertain as hell myself if I'd just slept with this guy for the third time in one night and suddenly he's scrambling to leave...)

It's an important moment! Shows that Dean is not trying to make her feel like he just used her for sex, he really just is running late. 😂 He's a good guy, he just has a lot of growing to do. 💓💓

Oh, Dean Winchester, the man you are. Alex, I can't wait to see where this goes! Lisa as a more bitchy version is quite the interesting read, and their little unintentional three-way set-up is bound to cause some drama 👀 And I'm here for it!!! Can't wait for the next chapter - coming out on here just one day after my birthday! Can't wait to read it 💓

He's extra something special, all right. 😩

Girl I can't wait to share Part 2 on Sunday!! (Soon and very soon!) It's a huge rollercoaster of emotions we're headed down, and this is only the first leg of it. 😂

Omg Happy early Birthday!! 💕

IF I STAY - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Yes, here’s another firefighter AU! Based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @redhoodieone. She requested pretty much all the major beats of this story, so hopefully I did her request justice! This is also partially inspired by Fools Rush In, a beautiful movie with Salma Hayek and Matthew Perry (Rest in Peace, King).

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis

Word Count: 8.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, thick thirty, hints of body insecurity, but also body appreciation, angst, and hurt/comfort.

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 1: Fools Rush In

Slowly, your eyes slide open into the waking world. Your head is resting on something warm, firm…and a little sweaty. You pick your head up, despite the disorienting, muddy feeling of a slight hangover.

A groan bubbles in your throat. Your gaze travels downward, and you realize that what you’re looking at is more of a who.

Your eyes widen. Oh…my…God…

Not only are you very naked, but your firm pillow is too. It happens to be your best friend’s brother.

Yes, holy fucking shit! You slept with your best friend’s brother.

Biting the inside of your lip, you can’t help but take him in, here in the raw light of day as he lays peacefully on his back. His head lolls to the side on your usual pillow. Your eyes roam over the bow of his lips, the dark eyebrows, lightish brown hair that's softer than it should be between your fingers.

He’s painfully handsome. There’s a slight hesitation in your touch, but you softly trace the cut of his jaw and the stubble spread across it. That roughness feels familiar, and not just under the pads of your fingers, though the thought makes you blush. You begin to remember the night before, almost like a movie reel through your mind… 

Ooooh, right. That’s what happened.

It starts at Sam Winchester’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party at a nice hotel downtown. He and Eileen aren't the "strippers and coke" kind of party couple. They're more the "wine and brie en croute with pickled olives" on the expensive crackers you can't afford—kind of couple.

They look perfectly in love, if a bit long-suffering while Dean gives a hilarious, somewhat inappropriate, but still ultimately heartwarming toast to their happiness. After lowering the glass of champagne from his lips, his gaze catches on yours in the crowd. You suck in a subtle breath. 

Technically you’ve met him already, being one of Eileen’s bridesmaids, but there’s something about his green eyes that pin you to the floor. When he hands over the mic to Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, his head turning away from you to offer her a smile breaks the spell. It allows you to breathe.

Dean later finds you by the bar. You’re drinking a rum and coke with your slice of cake, trying not to get a single crumb on your dress. You've put a lot of work into affording it, let alone fitting in it. He leans his elbows casually on the counter and looks over at you.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he nods at you with a smile, subtly taking you in first. Then, his eyes go to your plate. “Ooh, red velvet. Gotta get me some of that.”

You smile back at him. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, looks good in your hand,” he says, adding a teasing wink for good measure.

You don't know why that does it for you, but a half-flattered, half-nervous laugh tumbles out of your mouth. Sam has warned you before about Dean. Apparently his older brother is a bit of a flirt; a ladies’ man.

A man whore, are the words Eileen used.

You’re honestly surprised he’s talking to you when Eileen’s other bridesmaids, Lisa and Jo, are sipping martinis together down at the other end of the bar. Guess they didn’t want cake.

They look beautiful in their lithe, strapless little cocktail dresses. You’ve had to give up chocolate, bread, and cheese for three months straight to fit into this dress, something slinky and red that drapes over your thicker, curvy figure. But you’re proud of the fact that you’re letting yourself eat cake tonight, even though you’ve often felt like Mrs. Doubtfire while standing for pictures next to Lisa and Jo.

They’re Eileen’s friends, not so much your crowd. No matter how much you’ve tried to get to know them while helping the wedding planning in whatever way you can, you still get a high school clique vibe from the women, if with more “polite smiles.” Then they’ll typically go back to talking about crystal centerpieces—or whatever in-depth conversation they were having before you were there. 

But right now, Dean’s focus is on you. When he asks you more about yourself, you tell him about recently earning an elementary education degree.

“Ah, but you already knew that, because Sam told you we graduated college together,” you realize, with warmth tingeing your cheeks. That subject came up pretty quickly when he introduced you to his brother.

Dean’s smile confirms your suspicions, so you just keep filling the silence on reflex.

“Well, I actually just started teaching my first ever semester of second graders. They’re a bit of a handful, but overall, they’re really sweet.” Your smile falters. “Except for this one kid who likes to put little tacks on my chair. He’s kind of a menace, but I think if I bribe him with enough lollipops, he’ll give it a rest. I mean, it’s a behavioral issue and I should probably call his parents. But it's kind of hard to tell them their son is trying to make my ass into a pincushion."

Dean's laugh comes out in a sharp burst, like he wasn't expecting what just came out of your mouth. You didn't either, honestly. You giggle more out of embarrassment, ducking your head.

"He’s in second grade, you know?" you say, in between laughter. "I don't think that little footnote needs to end up on his permanent record. But then there's Micah. He's so friggin' smart. He can read at the fifth grade level already. Can you believe that? And I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but his grades on his spelling tests get him a spot in the comfy bean bag chair pretty much every Friday. Honestly, I think that's what I like about working with kids. I get to see that spark on their face when something just finally clicks for them. Their little faces get all bright and happy and…ugh. God, I'm sorry. I'm rambling, right?”

You stop yourself with a hand sliding over your mouth, not quite covering your smile of embarrassment.

Dean’s grin just widens, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

"It's okay. I kinda like it," he teases.

You duck your head, biting your lip against a groan. He chuckles and reaches out for your hand, earning your nervous glance. He quirks his head.

“Hey, you're passionate about what you do, helping kids. That's nothin' to be ashamed of,” he says, brushing his thumb over your hand. “But sweetheart, I gotta ask. Am I making you nervous or something?”

God, yes, you think, especially at that sweetheart thing. It’s making your heartbeat tick up a syncopated rhythm, but you shake your head, biting the straw of your rum and coke.

“No, not at all,” you say, in a hopefully “breezy” kind of way. You touch your fingers to his wrist. “Tell me about you though. Sam mentioned that you’re a firefighter?”

“Ah, yeah. Firefighter in training,” he says, with a more genuine smile.

He just started at the Fire Academy, and he tells you about all the drills he’s had to learn and all the training he’s had to do to be able to keep up with his classes. You subtly eye him while you sip at your drink, and you notice the crisp cut of his buttoned-down shirt and leather jacket, the definition of muscle across his thighs under the slacks, even while he casually sits.

Your gaze subtly travels down his long bowed legs, smart dress shoes. His cologne is woody and masculine, but not overpowering; maybe bergemot and sandalwood. It pleasantly wafts under your nose every time he gestures with his hands while he talks.

“Aw man, I can’t hold out anymore. I think I need to get me some of that cake before it’s gone,” he says, getting up from his chair.

You’re a bit disappointed that he’s leaving, until he stops short.

“You want another piece?” he offers, gesturing at your empty plate that’s been resting on the counter.

You blink in surprise, but you shake your head. “Oh, no. I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’s a party,” Dean reasons. His grin is too damn infectious. It has you smiling, and begrudgingly agreeing.

Not only does he bring you more cake, but you watch him eat three whole slices before he asks you to dance.

The rest of it flashes through your mind like strobe lights—the way he’d started small and respectful with his larger hand closed over yours and the other along the curve of your waist. He guided you closer and closer, until you were turned around into his arms, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

You felt his lips teasing your skin. Then those hands tantalizingly drifted down your every soft curve, as if showing you a preview of everything he could do to you, and every way he’d make you come apart. You believed him.

And when he whispered in your ear, asking if he could take you home, you let him.

You let him drive you in that big black piece of history he drives. Used to be my dad’s car, he said. A Chevy something. You couldn’t really remember much when his hand was drifting up and down your thigh like that.

His presence burned hot at your back when you two eventually got to the front door of your apartment, your hands just barely shaking as you got the key in. Twist and click—

He waited until you flipped the lights on. Then he turned you around slowly in his arms and pulled you in close, all the while asking you with his eyes and raised brows. This okay? You want this?

“Do I still make you nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching at a smile when yours do.

You nodded, uttering a small giggle. “In a good way.”

That was when he finally kissed you, hot and slow, like he meant to devour you whole. He moaned at the taste of you, at the feel of your ass squeezed in his hands. You clung onto him strong, breathing into his kiss and trying to meet every single demand of his lips.

It soon became a fiery tear to your bedroom, one lamp flicked on, hot breaths and nice clothes crumpled to the floor. You didn’t feel self-conscious even once when he guided you under him on the bed, because he wasted no time in taking you apart, inch by inch.

His lips kissed and licked and sucked a burning trail down your neck, over your collarbone and between your breasts. You felt his hardened length trapped between your bodies while his hands explored you, teasing your breasts and sensitive nipples, and he mapped his way down with his lips.

You explored every part of him you could—every dip of muscle, firm shoulders and the slopes of his back, and then back up to tangle in his hair. Your heated gasps and whimpers filled the room when his sinful mouth found what it was looking for between your legs.

It wasn’t often that you had a strong pair of shoulders to rest your thighs on, but Dean’s grip was hard enough to leave deep fingerprints of pressure on each thigh while he slipped his tongue through your folds and feasted on you.

“D-Dean, oh God,” you gasped. Every sound you made was a sensuous symphony in his ears, washing over his skin and making the well of his desire churn hot in his lower belly. He had to roll his hips into the mattress for some relief for his aching cock, even while he moved his mouth up to your clit, circling the swollen bud with his tongue. He had enough room to slip two fingers deep inside your sopping wet channel, exploring you deeply, stroking and twisting to find what you needed.

Your thighs trembled and squeezed tight on either side of his head. When he sucked your clit tight between his lips, you uttered as gasping moan as that coil snapped its release. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers. Yours clenched tightly in his hair, threatening to rip out a few strands.

Dean stroked you all through your first orgasm, giving slower licks to your clit. He seemed to sense when you couldn’t handle anymore though. You tugged more sharply on his hair, and he finally pulled away, moving back up your body to gauge your reaction.

You’d collapsed boneless against the bed, but you still managed to smile up at him as you caught your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. But his self-satisfied grin almost made you laugh. You took his glistening face between your hands and pulled him down for a grateful kiss.

After a moment to savor your lips, he broke away for a second to catch his breath himself. You stroked his back all the while.

“You know, for a minute down there, I thought you might not let me come back up,” he teased.

You choked on a laugh, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Honestly wouldn’t have minded if you did suffocate me,” he chuckled, accompanied by a slap to your left ass cheek. You squealed, and blushed hotly at the way he was grinning down at you.

“Ready for more, baby? Or you want to call it a night?” he asked. His tone was playful, but it was actually a serious question. You blinked in surprise. You’d never had a guy be this, well…generous, and not expect anything in return, especially not for just a hookup.

But you shook your head and sat up, slipping a hand behind Dean’s neck. After a beat of hesitation, you guided him down to you for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“No, I don’t want to call it a night,” you whispered. Your hand drifted down his bare chest, and lower still. You showed him just how well you could return the favor.

And now, come the morning, you’re blushing down to your neck as each scene flashes through your mind. You feel the ghost of his hands all over your body, and how you’d never quite felt quite as bold and sexy and beautiful with a near stranger as you had with Dean effing Winchester. Your best friend’s brother.

You begin to worry your bottom lip with your teeth. How the hell are you going to tell Sam? Especially after he warned you about exactly this. Plus, there’s a reason you don’t typically do the one-night stand thing, and this has the potential to become something very complicated.

You know what, it’s fine! you think. We’re two consenting adults. We’re both single. And maybe…maybe it could be more than a hookup. Maybe we can see each other again, see where it goes.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Dean says, his voice croaking with sleep.

You look down at him in surprise. His eyes have cracked open and he has your hand captive, stopping you from continuing to idly trace patterns on his bare chest. You smile in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say. Again, you bite your lower lip. “Um, good morning.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” he grins lazily. “You sure wore me out last night.”

Your smile becomes more genuine, even if you turn your face away somewhat shyly.

“Aw, don’t do that,” Dean says. He slides his hand up your arm and behind your neck, tangling into your already tangled hair when he guides you down to his lips for a kiss. “You were awesome.”

You giggle against his lips. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah,” he says, kissing you again.

You shake your head a little. “You were…”

Amazing. Unbelievable. Probably the best night I’ve ever had.

“Perfect,” you decide. Because it’s the truth. The word comes out of your mouth before you can filter yourself though, making you pause. Dean does too, but after a beat, he slowly smiles.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

You lick your lips, and you nod. “Definitely.”

“Well, then,” he says. His hand moves down to squeeze your hip. “You down for a repeat performance?”

You smile. “Only if I get a turn.”

Bracing your hands on his chest, you slide your thigh across his lap so you can straddle his hips. Dean grins and goes along with your idea. He gets a nice healthy handful of your thighs and helps settle you on top of him. But first, he reaches over into your nightstand drawer and finds another condom, ripping it open with his teeth.

Just like you did for him last night, you take the packet, as well as his generous length in your hands. You gently stroke him to full mast, smiling pleased at his groan of pleasure. Then you carefully fit the condom over him.

“You’re so gentle with me,” he teases. 

“Just returning the favor,” you quip, just before you position him at your wet entrance. Slowly, you sink down over his cock.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you again, warm and thick and fitting perfectly nestled deep inside. There had been moments last night where he wasn’t all that gentle, actually, but his passion had only spurred yours on more. You know you’ll probably find fingerprint marks on your thighs and ass, but it’s fucking worth it, you think, as you begin to bob a rocking rhythm that serves you both.

Dean arches his back underneath you, his knees coming up to press against your ass.

“Goddamn, baby. Givin’ me quite a show,” he says, in a panting voice that’s deep as sin.

You utter a breathy laugh.

Dean means it though. He’s enjoying the way you brush your hair out of your face, your beautiful tits in his face while you truly let loose for him. He guides you by the stronghold he has on your hips, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he ruts up into you, meeting your thrusts.

Your breath quickens, your nails digging into his chest on reflex, and your heart races as that delicious pleasure builds. But when Dean snakes a hand between you and further parts your folds to massage tight circles over your clit, your vision flashes white. You utter a scream of pleasure on his name, your inner walls choking him tight as you throb around his cock. His release hits him like a goddamn freight train.

“Aw, fuck,” he grunts.

He slams your hips down hard, making your thighs slap against his. A ragged groan escapes him in a rush. His hands move to your thighs just under your ass, where his fingers press into flesh hard enough to leave forensic ID, giving him leverage to bury himself deep into your pussy as he spills a hot release into the condom.

Goddamn…

He can almost imagine that he’s coming free inside you, that you’re milking his cock for every drop, until there’s nothing left for him to give.

The thought surprises him. It almost takes him out of the moment, honestly. That’s not a thought he’s ever had before—not with a woman he barely knows (which is most of his hookups, if he’s honest).

In that delicious, fractious moment just after it hits, it’s like those few seconds are suspended in zero gravity. Your arms are shaking, and your forced to collapse against his chest. Dean welcomes you there for a little while, letting you come down while he smooths a hand over your hair.

Though he can't help the urge to let his big hand drift down over your dewy skin, down the gentle slope of your back and over the curve of your generous ass. He gives one cheek a teasing slap. The sound echoes in the room.

"Goddamn perfect ass," he says roughly, smirking at your squeal. You end up grinning hard against his neck.

"'S that my new nickname?" you quip.

He chuckles deeply, moving you along with his chest. "Hell, sweetheart, if you want it to be."

Eventually, you lean back to give him a smile and one last kiss before you pull away from him. You slip off his lap to find your robe, at least. You definitely need a shower.

“So I’m thinking, after we get cleaned up, I could make us some breakfast,” you offer. “Or if you want, maybe we could go somewhere. I know a little diner down the block.”

“I like the sound of food,” Dean agrees with a smile. Ge reaches over for his phone on the nightstand, to check the time. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

He has to get his ass over to the Fire Academy. He has class in barely twenty minutes.

He tears out of bed and nearly trips on the coiled sheets.

“Sorry. Gonna need to take a raincheck,” he says. He hurries to find his clothes strewn all over your bedside floor.

“What’s the matter?” you ask with wide eyes. You cross your arms under your breasts, but it’s more like you’re hugging yourself over your robe. You watch him tear through your bedroom in a tempest of movement.

Dean spares you a glance, but not much else as he yanks up his slacks and belt and dress shirt.

“Gotta get to class,” he confesses. Thank God he has his uniform in the trunk of his car for exactly these kinds of emergencies. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys, and quickly kisses you on the cheek. He gazes down at you apologetically. “Sorry I gotta cut and run, sweetheart, but it’s been fun.”

Your smile barely reaches your eyes. He’s pressed for time, but he still notices.

He slows himself down and cups your cheek. “Hey.”

He gets your pretty eyes looking up at him, and he gives you a real kiss, nice and slow. He cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin.

“Thanks,” he says. His now familiar grin manages to make you smile. “And I mean that.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay go, Mr. Future Fireman. Be safe out there, okay?”

He gives you a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

You can’t help but laugh. This guy’s too much. But you don't think you've had this much fun having sex in...

All right, let's not put a timeframe on it.

You watch him leave your apartment, even though you have a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew this was just a hookup for him, for both of you. Part of you just couldn’t help hoping that it could’ve led to something more. 

Dean means to call you.

He really does.

After that truly awesome, you shook me all night long, kind of a night, he thinks about you more than he’d like to admit over the next few weeks. However, he finds himself locked into his training. He’s so close to finishing strong and earning his badge, he just can’t afford any more distractions.

Still, he should’ve known that Sam would find out—either through Eileen, or through you directly. He also should’ve expected the way his brother let him have it.

“And you didn’t even fucking call her. See? This is why I don’t set you up with any of my friends anymore,” Sam bitches at him from his side of the small two-seater dinner table. They still share an apartment, though in just a month and a half, Sam’s going to be moving out. He and Eileen already found a house that they’re moving into after the wedding.

“Look, I was going to call her, man. They’ve just been bustin’ my ass at the Academy!” Dean argues.

“Bullshit.” Sam levels him with the same finger that holds his beer.

Dean’s brows raise, high and annoyed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. Because if you really liked her, respected her, and respected me, you would’ve made the time,” Sam says.

That falls heavy between the brothers for a moment while they eat their pizza.

“Look, I know her. She doesn’t do hookups that often, which means…she probably liked you,” Sam adds. “And honestly, when are you going to give it a real try with someone? You can only visit that free clinic so many times.”

Dean shoots him a glare. He’s had a clean bill of health from said clinic for six months straight.

“Jesus Christ. Enough, all right?” he grouses. “What’re you, Mom?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam says, lowering his crust to the plate. He levels his brother with a more earnest look, lightening up from his anger. “Look, if it’s about what happened to Dad—”

“What, you mean the way he drank himself to death after Mom died?” Dean says. His voice cuts through whatever softball glove Sam is trying to handle him with. “You think that’s the kind of thing I should be looking for in my life?”

“Oh, and what, do you think I’m making a mistake marrying Eileen?” Sam counters.

Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just…I don’t know. Maybe that kind of life—the house, the wife, the 2.5 kids and the dog. Maybe that’s just not my life, okay?”

Sam gives him a long look. He lets go of a deep breath, and he shrugs.

“Okay,” he says. “If you think hooking up night after night for the rest of your life is going to make you happy, then fine.”

Dean nods, glad that they can put an end to this little After School Special.

“Okay.”

Still, he can’t finish his third slice of pizza. He keeps picturing your face when he left you that morning. No matter how you tried to hide it, he still saw the tinge of disappointment in your eyes. It brews something uncomfortable in his stomach, and a sting in his chest.

You’re eating lunch alone in your classroom, finally on your break, when an unfamiliar number flashes across your phone screen. You look down at it in confusion, but with all the caterers and florists and things you’ve helped Eileen with on the wedding, you figure it could be important. You pick up the call and greet whoever’s on the line.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

You drop your ham and cheese on your keyboard, gaping in surprise.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he chuckles slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s been a minute.”

You frown, because you’re confused more than anything.

“Yeah, like almost a month,” you reply. You put the call on speaker so you can grab up your sandwich and quickly brush off the crumbs from your keyboard. You struggle to say something cool, clever, sexy even. “I’m okay. Just, um…what’s up?”

Smooth, real smooth. You cover your eyes with your hand.

“Nothin’, I was just thinking of that night,” he says. “I had a good time.”

Your frown deepens, despite the beginning of a blush warming your cheeks. If he’s calling you just for another hookup…

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.”

And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

“I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

That part throws you though, you’re not going to lie. What, is this a Netflix and chill situation—with a side of fries?

You consider it. You weigh pros and cons at a frightening speed in your mind, almost like Sherlock Holmes contemplating the layout of a dead body and deducing within moments that his wife committed the murder, despite the man no longer wearing a ring.

You want to let yourself be bold and spontaneous and carefree...but it's just not who you are at your core. You're a planner, a cautious person who looks three ways before crossing the street. Letting Dean take you home that night was certainly one of the most spontaneous, wild things you've done since your friends took you out to a strip club after you aced your final round of exams back in college.

(Sam hadn't been there that night, but he did get an embarrassing drunken text from you at 3:00 a.m., along with a few shame-ridden pictures fueled by questionable substances. Yes, he still had the evidence.)

You just don't know if it's smart to let yourself hookup with Dean again. Mostly because you know your heart has the tendency to get attached, no matter how much you warn it not to.

“You know, Dean, I’m pretty busy with my job right now. I just started here a couple of months ago, and I think I just need to focus on that right now,” you say. Part of it isn’t a lie, even though your soft heart is stinging.

“Ah, okay. Yeah. I get that,” he says. You hear his disappointment too. “But I just need to say, I really am sorry for not calling you sooner.”

Your lips tug at a smile. “It’s okay, Dean. Look, you’re Sam’s brother. I just feel like, maybe it’s better if you and I stay friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Dean says wryly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have three rounds of steamy hot sex with any of my friends.”

Your blush comes swiftly again, burning in your cheeks.

“Be that as it may,” you say, “I just don’t want to do anything that will distract from Sam and Eileen’s wedding.”

“Oh, I’m a distraction, huh?” Dean says flirtatiously. 

You begin to smile in earnest. “I think you know damn well what you are, Dean Winchester.”

His deep chuckle practically resonates through the phone and into your chest, going straight down to your pussy. You clench on nothing just at the sound of his voice, making you cross your legs under your skirt. Dear God…

How are you supposed to be even remotely normal around this man now? 

But for Sam’s sake (and your own), you’ll have to try. 

Two months later, Dean has taken Sam’s dating advice to heart. A week or so after you turned him down, he ran into Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, while he was at the grocery store buying beer and Twizzlers. She was a smart, sharp, sexy brunette. A yoga instructor, he soon found out. So he took a chance on asking her out. They’ve been going slow and steady ever since. 

Dean hasn’t heard from you since the rehearsal dinner, but he sees you again at his brother’s wedding. All the bridesmaids are wearing long, royal blue dresses that drape off the shoulders and hug the bust and waist, flaring gently at the skirt. Lisa and Jo wear it beautifully, their hair perfectly smooth and coiled. 

But when you step out into the hall outside the church ballroom to join them, Dean actually pauses in what he’s saying to his brother. He nearly double takes when you enter his line of vision—mostly because he hasn’t seen you in a dress since that night. You were sexy as hell then, a lady in red. 

Today, you’re absolutely stunning. 

After greeting Sam with a warm hug, you turn to him with a nervous kind of smile. “H-Hey, Dean.”

With that, he snaps out of it. Dean smiles, eyes crinkling, and goes over to give you a hug as well.

“Good to see you,” he says, trying not to inhale too much of your nice perfume. It’s even in your hair.

“You too,” you reply. Your smile is a little brighter, more genuine. Though there’s something behind your eyes that he can’t quite place.

What he doesn’t notice is the way Lisa is watching you and her boyfriend, a hint of suspicion on her face.

You do though. You pull away from Dean and assemble into a line with Lisa at the helm. As the Best Man, Dean stands with her, followed by Jo and Brady, another one of Sam’s buddies. You and Benny bring up the rear. Benny’s dad used to work with John, Sam and Dean’s father, on the police force.

According to Sam, John Winchester worked a beat for twenty-six years before his liver finally gave out on him. Dean almost went to the Police Academy to follow in his dad’s footsteps, but Benny, already working his way up to Lieutenant, suggested Dean become a smoke eater instead. The suggestion stuck.

Benny Lafitte is slightly shorter than Dean, but just as broad-shouldered, his auburn beard neatly trimmed. Even though you might’ve thought he was rough around the edges at first, his kind blue eyes spoke the contrary. He offers you his arm like a gentleman.

“Well aren't I lucky, getting the prettiest girl on my arm,” he says, with a charming smile.

You smile, and even begin to blush at the way he subtly takes note of you from head to toe.

“Well, thank you. You’re very handsome yourself. Although, hold on.” You slip your arm out of his for a moment so that you can fix his tie. It’s slightly crooked. You make sure that it lays flat under his collar, smoothing down all the edges and picking off any small dust particles that landed on his collar. Benny watches you with an indulgent smile.

“Am I good?” he asks.

“Very,” you reply.

“I appreciate it, thank you,” he says. You don’t know if he means to sound flirtatious, but his voice is a deep drawl that washes over you pleasantly. You find yourself blushing down to your neck as you slip your arm back around his.

You also don’t notice how Dean glances at you and Benny over his shoulder.

As much as you love Sam and Eileen, it’s difficult for you to keep your mind from spinning into fractals as the ceremony goes on. You can’t help but glance at Dean. He stands there behind Sam dutifully, but you see brotherly pride in Dean’s eyes, in his smile. It makes you smile too. You too love Sam like a brother, and it brings a well of happy tears to your eyes to watch him have his moment with his new wife.

It just also reminds you of what you need to do.

After the ceremony ends and the bridal party files out behind the bride and groom, you excuse yourself from Benny apologetically. You wait until Lisa and Jo go off to take pictures with Sam and Eileen, and you grab Dean’s wrist, pulling him aside.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper.

Dean gives you a confused look. “They’re gonna need us for the pictures.”

“I know, but this is important,” you say. Your voice trembles with nerves, and so do your hands. Dean notices, frowning in concern. He grasps your arm to try and steady you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just come with me,” you implore him. You take his hand and lead him into the women’s dressing room attached to the church sanctuary you all just came out of.

Dean raises his brows at the mess you and the rest of the bridesmaids have made of the room—pantyhose and makeup and clothing litter the floor and most available surfaces, while leftover breakfast sandwiches, grapes, salami, and cheddar cheese cubes are splayed out across one of the vanity counters. Dean is tempted to steal a morsel, but he focuses on you first.

You close and lock the door, which makes his brows raise high again. You know he has a girlfriend now, right?

“Uhh, look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but—”

You heave a sigh. Again, you take his hand and guide him to sit with you at the vanity. The old stools squeak, the overhead lights a bit too bright. This is not where you want to do this, but you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Dean, I’m pregnant,” you confess.

He freezes. His breath stills in his lungs. His eyes slowly widen as the words click in his brain.

“What?” His head tilts, as if he didn’t hear you right.

You squeeze his hand; to ground him or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I’m about two months pregnant. I found out last week.”

Dean swipes his free hand over his mouth while he tries to compute. He squeezes your hand, tighter and tighter. He points to himself.

“It’s…it’s me? It’s mine?”

You give him a weary smile. “You’re the only one I’ve been with in the last few months. It could only be you.”

Oh fuck. The man’s face begins to pale as he descends into shock.

“But we…I used a condom,” he reasons. “All the—all the times!”

You bite your lip. If you weren’t freaking the fuck out yourself, you’d probably be laughing right now. Granted, you’ve had a bit more time to process this than Dean.

“I know, I was there,” you reply, releasing yet another sigh. “One of them probably broke. That’s all I can think of… Honestly, Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t want to disrupt the ceremony or cause a scene before the wedding. But now you know.”

Dean falls silent then. He hasn’t let go of your hand, which you think is a decent sign. He’s likely forgotten that you’re still holding it as he stares off into the middle distance for several seconds.

Eventually, he shakes his head and returns his gaze to yours. He looks uncertain, his handsome face the true epitome of holy fucking shit.

You know the feeling.

But he asks the most important question.

“What do you want to do?”

Briefly you close your eyes as you take a breath. You squeeze his hand before you let go of him.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and…I’m keeping the baby,” you tell him, though you raise placating hands. “I don’t want money, or anything like that. I just wanted you to know that it’s yours. How much you want to be in his or—or her life, that’s up to you.”

Dean takes a beat before he answers, but you don’t have to wait so long holding your breath.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll help you. Don’t worry,” he says.

And just like that, all the time you spent giving yourself pep talks for this, telling yourself that you’ll need to be strong no matter what he says, all of it crumbles into relief. Your lower lip trembles, and your body shudders as you break into tears. You try covering your face to hide your shame, but Dean grasps your shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It’s all right,” he says. He tentatively pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nod into his dress shirt, probably staining him with your running makeup.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a bit tighter in response.

You and Dean agree to keep this to yourselves for now, at least until Sam and Eileen get back from their honeymoon. It’s difficult to explain why your eyes are all red and your makeup is smudged, but you promise Sam that you’ll tell him later. You know it’s pointless to lie to him though. As a lawyer, his bullshit meter is far too high.

However, you also know that he’s half guessed it by the time you all make it to the reception. When you and Dean came out of that dressing room to join the bridal party for pictures, you're sure that you looked emotionally wrecked. Dean had looked pale as a sheet, his body coiled and tense, as willing himself to seem normal. Sam had clocked both of you with a raise of his brow, but he didn't say anything then, especially after you gave him a pleading look.

While Eileen greets her family without him for a moment, Sam pulls you aside. He notes your glass of diet coke, in a moderate sea of guests drinking champagne and cocktails.

“Are you okay?” he asks knowingly.

Tears well up in your eyes again. You don’t know if it’s your damn hormones going haywire, or just the way Sam asks you, with the love of a friend in his eyes. He squeezes your shoulder gently, prompting you with your name.

“Yeah, I think I will be,” you say.

"Is it the same reason you're not drinking?" he asks. "You and Dean earlier..."

You hesitantly confirm with a nod. Sam blows out a harsh sigh, raising folded hands to his mouth as he processes. You begin to look around on reflex, trying to see if anyone's watching you and Sam have this conversation in the middle of the reception. To your relief, everyone around you seems occupied with drinks, hours d'oeuvres and conversation.

“What did he say when you told him?” Sam asks. His gaze is firmer. You get the idea that if he doesn’t like what you tell him, then he’s about to go grab his brother by the ear himself.

You grab his wrist and give a placating squeeze. “He said he's going to help me, be there for me.”

“Damn right. So will I,” Sam nods, and glances back at Eileen, his new bride, with a smile. “We both will.”

“I know,” you nod as well. “I’ll be okay, Sam. You don’t have to worry so much. Just enjoy your wedding day. It’s the only one you’re gonna get. Well, you know…hopefully.”

You tease him with a wink.

Sam laughs, cupping your cheek. He kisses your other cheek.

“I love you, you know that right?” he says.

You give him a trembling smile through your tears.

Meanwhile, Dean has a beautiful woman in his arms. He turns Lisa on the dancefloor, trying not to trip on his own dress shoes, all the while knowing that his brain isn’t here in his body. It’s across the ballroom, watching you talk to Sam. Dean can tell that he knows, just in his Big Bird body language. He’d also recognize that accompanying Bitch Face anywhere.

“Dean, what’s wrong,” Lisa asks him, and not for the first time. She’s getting annoyed, he can tell. She finally looks over to where he keeps glancing, and she notices you with a frown. It’s also not the first time she’s caught him staring at you tonight.

“What was that earlier in the dressing room? She didn’t really get food poisoning, did she?” she asks pointedly. “What, did you two used to date or something?”

He gives a wan smile. “Yeah, kinda. We…had a thing once.”

“What kind of thing?”

Dean closes his eyes and tries to keep himself calm. He’s pretty sure if he tells her the truth right now, she’s going to find the nearest cocktail and dump it over his head.

But shit, here it goes.

“Well…”

After a long day at school, you drive over to Dean’s apartment. You’d agreed to meet there and wait for him to get off his shift at Firehouse 83, where he just started as a full-fledged firefighter on probation. When he gets home, he’s supposed to go with you to an important appointment with your OB-GYN. 

You were hoping he’d already be done with work by the time you got to his place, but Lisa's there to open the door for you. Apparently, he’d already given her a key.

Moving kind of fast, but okay, you think. A second later, you could’ve rolled your eyes at yourself. Pot, kettle, me. Got it.

Lisa greets you with a “polite” smile at best, but she does offer you water at least. You really can’t blame her for not liking you though. She found out her boyfriend got another woman pregnant right before he started dating her. Really, she has more balls than you for staying with him. You wouldn't put it past Dean to somehow have smooth-talked her into giving him a chance.

Or she really loves him. The thought sobers you as you lower yourself down to the couch beside her. Both of you sit there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out something to talk about.

“So, you’re what, six months pregnant?” she asks.

You correct her in thinly veiled annoyance. “Three months, actually.”

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I thought it was six.”

You have a feeling her awkward chuckle is fake, however. She knew good and damn well that you’re not six months pregnant. In her eyes, you must be the size of a parade float. 

“If you want, I can recommend a holistic diet to help you get your body back after the baby’s born,” Lisa offers. “No pills, no chemicals. Just good clean weight loss.”

You feign interest. Honestly, you’d like her to cram that offer right up her hooch.

“I can even give you a discount if you want to try out yoga,” she says. “It’s low impact, but you burn plenty of calories. I have a beginner’s class, not too strenuous. Even my least flexible clients manage to do the poses.”

Is that why Dean likes you? Because you’re bendy? Bet if I sat on you, you’d pop like a fucking balloon.

You hide all of these thoughts behind a “polite” smile of your own.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you reply. It’s non-committal enough, but hopefully it’ll get her off your back.

No such luck.

“You know, maintaining a healthy diet is really important for the baby’s health too,” Lisa adds. “It’s not just about avoided raw fish and dairy products. Oh, and processed food is obviously a no-go. Like, I’m sure you haven’t been hitting Taco Bell and all that stuff, right?”

As a matter of fact, you’ve been eating clean since long before you got pregnant. Not that it’s any business of hers whether you enjoy the occasional quesadilla or not.

Your temper snaps at its leash. You open your mouth to reply, when the front door unlocks and opens to Dean, stepping in through the threshold.

Thank God, you and Lisa both think. She gets up quicker from the couch than you, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss. You avert your gaze while you begin to get up yourself.

Dean reaches out to help you, grasping your arm in support. You shoot him a smile.

“I can still get up by myself,” you snip.

“Yeah, all right. Just in case,” he says with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s rock and roll,” you say, trying to hide your worsening mood. You’re exhausted, and irritated, and probably more than a little hangry. Except now, the idea of food just has you feeling guilty for even being hungry.

“Bye, hun. Hope you have a good appointment,” Lisa says, giving your shoulder a pat. You give her the most genuine smile you can muster as you thank her. It's possibly that she's one of those women who don't realize when they're being cunty, but you find it highly unlikely. She's too smart for that.

You follow Dean out the door and over to his car, big and black and sleek as you remember. You settle into the passenger seat with your arms crossed in silence. Dean switches the cassette to one of his favorite Led Zeppelin albums, though he notices your grumpy face.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

You give him some side-eye, but you’re reluctant to say anything. You just shake your head. As irritated as you are, you don’t want to be the friend who badmouths his girlfriend.

God, are we even friends? You wonder. Or am I just his knocked-up baby momma?

And again, you realize that this whole situation is probably hard for Lisa. You just don’t know if she’s jealous, or if she just…doesn’t like you.

“I’m okay,” you tell Dean.

He raises a skeptical brow. Looks like Sam isn’t the only one with a finely tuned bullshit meter.

“All right, how about this,” Dean says. “Let’s grab some burgers after this, huh? From your favorite spot. Shake Shack, right? Side of fries, frozen yogurt. I think I’ll get chocolate this time… Hmm, I doubt Lisa will want anything. She’s gone on an all-vegan kick or something.”

For one shining moment, you were happy and touched at his consideration. But now your body stills in your seat when you remember Lisa’s words. Tears well up in your eyes with a hot sting, and a sob escapes your throat.

Dean is cut off from thinking about getting extra bacon on his burger. He looks over at you in alarm. “H-Hey, what’s the matter?”

You scoff at him through your tears. “Are you kidding me? I can’t eat burgers anymore, Dean. I was already fucking fat. Now it’s just gonna get ridiculous.”

“What?” Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, along with his deepening frown. It gets worse as he tries to watch the road ahead, while at the same time, watching you continue to crumble.

“And after the birth, I’m just going to be an even fatter slob who can’t take care of her baby,” you sniffle and weep, trying in vain to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself.

Dean grits his teeth, his jaw twitching. Fuck it.

He turns the steering wheel sharp enough to startle a gasp out of you.

“Dean!”

He pulls the car over onto the side of the road, ignoring the honking SUV behind him. He shifts into Park and shuts off the radio—a big red flag, in your opinion. He’s upset too, and fucking serious, more so than you’ve ever seen him. You stare back at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve never once heard you say that you’re fat,” he says.

You blink at that, but eventually, you’re able to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth. You wipe the remnants of tears from your cheeks. Your face is already hot from your upset, now tinged with embarrassment.

“You haven’t known me very long,” you say quietly.

It doesn’t help. Dean’s jaw ticks again.

“Well, I’ve never thought it. Not even once,” he says. His jade green eyes are firmly set on yours, and he gestures between you and him with a pointed finger. “The reason you and I are here right now, is because the minute I saw you, I wanted you.”

One corner of his lips kicks upwards. “And that night, you didn’t disappoint.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. You don’t know how to respond, but you do know that a full blush is warming your face and neck. His words have power, and unbidden, they bloom a similar warmth between your legs. You swallow a bit nervously as you bite your bottom lip.

Dean glances down at your mouth when you do. He can remember what your pretty mouth did for him that night. Oh, he remembers all too well. He even had the shade of your lipstick streaked across his skin until he showered up at the firehouse.

He locks that all away when shifts the car back into Drive. If you’re going to make it to this appointment on time, he needs to get going.

And you both have to leave whatever that was right here by the side of the road.

AN: Woo! 😮‍💨 Yep, this is only Part 1, friends. Lisa is a bit different in this. My take was that without Ben in her life, she might be less mature and a bit more catty. As we get into Part 2 I'll leave it up to you to decide why she decides to stay with Dean, and perhaps more importantly, where the reader and Dean can go from here as co-parents. 🤔

If you enjoyed Part 1, please let me know!~

Next Time in Part 2:

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look, I…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours, and achingly familiar.

⋆˙⟡ Read Part 2 on Patreon now!

⋆˙⟡ Coming to Tumblr/Ao3 on 3/23

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@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @supernotnatural2005

[darlingdaisyfarm]

˚₊ʚ if you were food, this is what you’d be ɞ₊˚

⸝⸝ 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒚, 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝒇𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍 ⸝⸝

idk why i feel like saying this rn but I LOVE YOU PEOPLE THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING. also i bought carrot cake today. please take this as a little gift to make your day better, mwah!! <3 :3 c: also it's written in their pov!! and sorry my imagination can be poor sometimes

STANLEY

baby, the first thing that comes to my mind is fried mozzarella. hot, soft inside, crispy outside, insanely delicious, and if you don’t eat it in time, the cheese stretches and gets all over everything. that’s exactly what you are, ‘cause it’s never boring with you, but the moment i blink, you’ve already done something crazy!! god, I love that about you, you have no idea!

and, holy moses, you are sunday morning pancakes, dripping with syrup that spills over the edges in slow golden rivers. a little messy, a little too much, but in the best way, sweetheart. something you can’t rush through because it's worth savouring, bite by bite. you’re sweetness and comfort that makes people stay a little longer at the table ;)

i swear ur like a stolen bite of dessert before dinner, like licking sugar off your lips when you think no one’s watching

and you know what else you are to me? you’re like fried potatoes, yeah, yeah. golden crispy crust, a thin layer of salt, that warm, buttery smell, oh goddd. you’re that very first bite that burns my tongue, but i still don’t wait, because how could i wait when it’s THAT good?!

and ohhh, sugar, you ever had a perfectly toasted marshmallow? golden brown, crisp on the outside, but you bite in and it’s all soft, gooey warmth that sticks to your fingertips and your lips. yep, that’s you !!

STANFORD

ah, must I name foods? just that drinks feel more appropriate, but fine. fine. one food then, okay?

fried potatoes. what? Stanley already said this? why? that was my thought! ugh. fine. then. . .

you, my love, you're like an espresso brewed so perfectly it almost doesn’t need sugar, the crema golden and thick, just the way i drank it at night, working in the lab and falling asleep over blueprints. a small cup maybe, but inside a whole universe. bitter, scalding, cutting through to the bone, but that’s the point. that’s its strength. just like you.

and then, unexpectedly, you are mulled wine. not too sweet, with orange zest and cinnamon, with cloves that open up in the warmth. this drink is more than just a taste for me. it warms. it brings people together. i always associated it with long conversations and the scent of books. that’s exactly the feeling you leave behind. that feels like sinking into a warm library chair with a book i’ve read a hundred times but still want to read again. the thing i never realized i needed, until i had it once and knew i could never go back

FIDDLEFORD

you, my darlin', are fresh peaches in the summertime, sun-warmed and dripping with juice that runs down your fingers when you take a bite, sticky-sweet and impossible to resist. that's cuz you're so sunny, with a light taste of summer, so cozy that i can't stop holding you <3

you’re like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, warm, soft, fragrant. gentle rolls that just melt in your mouth, leaving a light aftertaste of vanilla and butter. thats because there’s smth about you that makes the day better, even if it started off rough, trust me on that, sugar!

but ohh you’re also homemade vanilla ice cream, churned slow on a summer evenin’, cold and creamy. that's cuz you're always coolin’ me down when my thoughts start runnin’ too hot :)

but you are also honey-drizzled cornbread, warm from the oven, crumbling at the edges, the sweetness deep and mellow. you remind me of home, of things made with care. meant to be shared but never taken for granted

can i say more though?? thanks sugar!! then lemme think. . . ah, you are homemade vanilla custard, yes!! smooth and rich, thick enough to cling to the spoon, to coat my tongue in warmth. the sweetness that doesn’t rush to reveal itself all at once. the scent of vanilla beans steeping in warm cream and the first bite is somehow never enough. ain’t no rush with you, love <3

BILL

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH BABY, MY UNBELIEVABLY SWEET THING, YOU CAN’T EVEN IMAGINE HOW MANY FLAVORS EXPLODE IN MY HEAD WHEN I LOOK AT YOU!!!!!

first of all, you are, of course, a honey comet!!!! what is that??? I HAVE NO IDEA!!!! JUST IMAGINE, THE SKY ON FIRE, STICKY SWEETNESS, BLAZING CARAMEL MELTING INTO ASH, DRIPPING INTO THE DEPTHS OF SPACE!!! THAT’S YOU!!! I SEE YOU AND I TASTE A COSMIC SWEET APOCALYPSE!!!

AND AND AND A CARAMEL SUN, BURNED OUT TO A BLACK CORE!!! SWEET, HOT, STICKY, DEFYING ALL LAWS OF PHYSICS, JUST LIKE YOU, MY MIRACLE OF IMPOSSIBILITY!!!

I’D DEVOUR YOU, BUT WHY, WHEN I CAN JUST WATCH YOU CONSUME YOURSELF?! IT'LL BE MUCH TASTIER THIS WAY!!!!

what??? stop making things up and fooling around? you're asking me to name your boring human food? oh then. . . hmm, sweetie, you know what? this has to be something that blows your mind. smth fiery so let me think. . . you, my starlight, are like chili pepper shrimp, because IT’S FREAKING GENIUS AND YOU LOVE THE PAIN!!!! HAA

oh wait, i remember!! baby, YOU’RE CARAMELIZED APPLES! crunchy sweetness, shiny, tempting, but if you bite too hard? say goodbye to your lovely cute teeth! perfect combo, isn’t it? the sharpness of cinnamon, the thick, sticky caramel, the tartness of fresh apple. and what if your teeth really fall out? well id be more than happy to keep them, my little star!

[odetteinherhead]

Bro what do you mean you never liked any of my exes? What you mean "HIS FIANCÉ'S ABBY" with an angry little face and a gay little foot stomp? What you mean the camera kept putting you in the middle of the frame btw me and my red hair gf? What do you mean I am the guy your kid goes to when he's upset with you? What do you mean you put me in your will? What do you mean you let me take care of you and break up with you gf? What do you mean I am the first person your kid calls when you have a break down? Did you train him to do that or something? What do you mean you know exactly how long my heart stopped for? Does it keep you awake at night or something? What you mean your (our) baby boy tried to talk me out of coma? What do you mean you looked like you ate a sore lemon when I told you my new girl really sees me? What do you mean you took me to a poker date? What do you mean your first instinct was congratulating me when her and I broke up? And then you replaced me with a helicopter driver that's NOT me? I had to date that dude. You didn't like him anymore this way. What do you mean you opened the door in your underwear after looking in the peephole? You risky business freak. What you mean you hide your porn from— oh god pookie you're moving? Let me put my pink little cardigan on and pretend we're husbands while I sabotage your viewings and talk about your house like it's mine....wait. What you mean not strings in LA? BABE?!!? Fine, I'll replace you with a dog...okay the dog left, just like you will but I love you so I am going to sublet our house and wait like a good dog.

What does it mean when you look at me like that? I need to know. What does it mean when I can see stars in your eyes and a future I can't have in your irises? Will you come back to me? Will I wait forever? What's this feeling in my chest that hurts so badly as I watch you leave my life?

What does it mean?

[bonbonly]

NO WHY DID THAT LAST ASK IGNITE SOMETHING IN ME?? Because now I’m imagining Carlos coming back to visit and finding out his favorite fucktoy’s got a new boy! Would he be livid and fuck you till you pass out in front of Charles, and then fuck Charles himself till the bed’s covered in cum and sweat? Or would he be all sweetly, wanting to watch Charles and you fuck and praising his two sluts and making them keep going until you’re both overstimulated and sobbing for a break! I CANNOT DECIDE!!!

HEY SO UH WHAT

bon's thoughts (18+)

college!carlos coming back from spain to visit you because he missed his baby and learns from his friends that you've been too busy fucking charles.

ik his ass gonna tie charles up and force that bottom of a man to watch him fuck all your holes - your mouth, your ass and your sweet pussy being nothing more than a cum dump for him as he's grabbing your hair and yanking it, making your arch back in a delicious yet painful way as he's slamming his hips into you again and again while you're crying from overstimulation, your legs shaking from how many times youve cummed. he pulls out of you just before he cums and shoves his cock into charles' mouth, fucking his throat until its raw, until his cum is filling up his mouth.

he's gonna be fucking charles' tight ass, hand on the younger man's head which is now being forced between your legs and he's gonna make charles eat your oversensitive cunny out while you're squealing and shaking your head, telling carlos you can't possibly cum anymore than you already have!

"stop fucking whining," carlos snaps, and each time charles moans against your pussy, you're bucking your hips and mewling out loud, "you're such a slut you couldn't wait for me when i got back, so now you're going to get what you always wanted. mi zorra, it's either this or i tie you up and lock you in my dorm so that no one touches you until i come back"

[seitmai]

Oh so many thoughts

Your head was high, shoulders squared, exuding the kind of confidence that was ingrained. Your dress clung just right, swaying with each step, and Bucky swore he forgot how to breathe.

Oh I'm sure he did 🤭

Catching your eye when you passed by, a slow smirk when you looked away too fast. Holding the door open a second too long, letting his fingers brush yours when he handed over your change.

It's the small things 👀

Words, always words, low and teasing, dangerous for a girl with a mind like yours. Words were your weakness.

Facts lol

You knew the risks. You knew people talked. In a world that kept its lines drawn thick and unyielding, Bucky chasing after you was a dangerous thing.  But Bucky never cared about lines.

Oh I'm sure he doesn't 🫣

“You scared?” he asked one night, his voice soft but steady. "Of what?" "Of what happens if you let yourself want this as bad as I do.” You should have been. But you weren’t. The way he made you feel like you belonged to him.

🥰🥰🥰

Maybe you did. Because you gave him your innocence. But love like that didn’t come without consequences. 

Oh 🫣👀

What Bucky hadn’t expected, what he hadn’t planned for, was how deep he’d fall for you, how much he’d care. You weren’t just a good time. You weren’t just a secret thrill. You were it.

He fell in love head over heels and certainly not planned

No warning. No note. No goodbye. Just vanished, into thin air. And for six years, he told himself it didn’t matter. That if you wanted to leave, then fine. That he wasn’t the type to chase ghosts. But then he saw you again, standing under the lights of a Vegas stage, your voice carving its way through the smoky haze. And in that moment, Bucky Barnes knew one thing for certain. This time, he wasn’t letting you run.

He is determined that he made that mistake once and will never make it again

Now you had fuller hips and softer edges; your body was made to be held. If he got his hands on you again, he knew there would be more of you to worship, to savor.

And he can't wait 🤭

And when he smirked again, just a little, like he’d just won something, your breath hitched. Because you both knew. Six years apart hadn’t changed a gotdamn thing.

😍😍😍

“Fellas,” he drawled, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray, “this here is Trouble.” Your lips parted slightly, a profane retort ready to go, but before you could snap back, he continued. “Trouble, this is Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson.”

His audacity to call her Trouble lol

“Let’s just say…” His eyes met yours, heat simmering beneath the surface.  “She used to belong to me.” The words struck your chest like lightning. You’d learned enough curse words to set his head on fire since you’d known him last, but you didn’t lace the room with profanity.  “Used to,” you repeated, voice smooth as velvet. “Interesting choice of words.” Bucky’s smile didn’t drop, but he clutched his glass tighter, and you saw the way his jaw ticked.

👀👀👀

Sam let out a low whistle, clearly enjoying the show.  “Damn. She’s quick.” Steve, ever the observer, just watched the exchange with a smirk.

They both love the show 🤭

“You still listen like a Good Girl,” he murmured, voice smooth as smoke and just as dangerous. You crossed your arms, shielding yourself from his stare as he leaned back against the small table between you, eyes skimming the curves of your dress like he had every right to. “And you’re still a little asshole, Bucky.” “I think you know I’m not ‘little,’ Baby,” he said, voice dipping lower. “Bet you that cunt still curves to my dick.” You didn’t think. Your palm met his cheek in a resounding slap before you could stop it.

He so deserved that 👏🏻

You thought of the reason why, of the tiny heartbeat that changed your life forever, and you folded your arms tighter across your chest. “But tell me this. Was it worth it?” The air left your lungs. You thought of why you ran. What was expected of you. What would’ve happened if you’d stayed. Six years of building a life from scratch. Six years of trying to convince yourself you made the right choice. Six years of missing him. Six years of seeing his eyes every day both in your dreams and when you woke. “Absolutely.”

🥺🥺🥺

Bucky’s gaze flickered, searching your face for something, doubt, regret, a lie. But he didn’t find it. “I’m not sorry for what I did, Bucky. But I’m sorry if I hurt you.” You meant it. Every word. But you belonged to someone else now. Someone more important than James Barnes.

Oh is he only knew 👀🥹

“And if I need to go home?” you asked, testing. Steve shrugged. “Then we’ll take the lady home. But if you’re looking for a little more excitement…” “We know a place or two,” Sam finished, his voice tinged with amusement.

Of course they know a place or two 😅

Despite yourself, you smiled. You liked them. Even if they were Bucky’s men, and even if they saw more than they let on.

They are pretty likable 🤷🏻‍♀️

Steve’s gaze flickered down, tracing the slit in your dress, lingering just long enough to make your pulse skip. “Those legs look just fine to me,” he murmured. You arched a brow. Was Steve Rogers flirting with you? And was Sam giving you the same once over from the passenger seat? And more importantly, what would Bucky do if he knew? 

Oh this is interesting 👀

“You two do this often?” you asked as the car rumbled to life. Steve and Sam exchanged a glance, the kind that spoke volumes. “I’ve known Bucky for three years,” Sam said, voice lighter than his meaning. “And I’ve never seen him give a woman the time of daylight.” “And he’s only ever talked about one woman to me.” The weight of his words settled over you. He didn’t have to say it. You knew. Steve’s voice was softer when he added, “But he stopped talking about her about five and a half years ago.”

🥹🥹🥹

His gaze collided with yours, stealing the air from your lungs. He didn’t move. Just stood there, watching you, burning you into his memory like he was afraid you might disappear if he blinked.

He is taking in every single second

Then his hands were on you. Your gasp was swallowed by his mouth crashing against yours, desperate and deep, like he had something to prove, like he needed you to know that six years hadn’t dulled his hunger for you.

It's been a long time coming...

He brought your hand up to his mouth, taking the glove off your hand with his teeth, one finger at a time. Your mind short circuited, forgetting what you wanted to say, the only thought that your panties would burst into flames, but the liquid at your center would surely put the fire out.

Valid reaction 🤭

“Missed these fuckin’ curves,” he groaned, rolling his hips against you, letting you feel just how hard he was, how much he needed you. Bucky looked up at you then, eyes burning, voice nothing but gravel. “Hold on tight, Baby. I ain’t letting you go this time.

Oh I'm sure he will keep his word

"Gonna fuck you proper, though. In a bed." You let out a breathless laugh as Bucky scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you to his bedroom. He laid you out, spreading your legs as he loomed over you, devouring the sight. His manicured nails dragged over your thighs in a slow, teasing stroke. "Be a good girl for me," he murmured, eyes dark with intent. "And grab my hair if you need to."

Oh he is in love and ready to worship

"Why so shocked?" he taunted. "You act like you haven’t had sex since I borrowed Johnny’s car—" He stopped. Your face must have given you away because his own softened instantly. "Oh, shit." His tone was different now, understanding. "It’s okay, Baby. I got you."

I am obsessed with his instant switch! It shows that beneath his hard shell, he is still just head over heels for her 😍

Determination flashed in his blue eyes as he leaned down again, brushing a featherlight kiss against your most sensitive place. It was intimate. Like he was kissing your mouth. Then, he licked into you, slow and deliberate, and your world shattered. Lightning coursed through your veins as your thighs instinctively clamped around his head. Your fingers fisted in his curls, tugging mercilessly. Bucky groaned in approval, his tongue swirling, sucking, worshiping. Every swipe, every firm drag, every deep flick had you writhing beneath him, riding his face, chasing oblivion.

What a great way to get into action after six years 🤭🥵

And his release filled you, thick and hot, as his body shuddered violently against yours. And in that moment, tangled together, sweat-slicked and sated, you both knew. You were his again.

Like it's signed with a seal

His voice was thick with exhaustion, but he still caught the way you shifted, the way your body tensed before you sat up.

I love those little details!!

"Bathroom," you murmured, already moving. "Need to clean up." Something flickered in his eyes, something soft, something real. But the moment you slipped away, his hope dimmed just a little. Bucky nodded, jaw tight. He had questions. Too many. But he knew you wouldn’t answer them. So he let you go. But that didn’t mean he was letting this go.

He wants to ask about everything so bad, he is really holding back not to lose her again 🥺

You stepped out, wrapped in a housecoat, makeup gone, hair wrapped in a scarf. Then you walked to the neighboring unit. And knocked. The door cracked open. Bucky sat up straighter, his breath hitching as the kid bolted toward you, dark messy hair bouncing, big blue eyes shining as he laughed, launching himself into your waiting arms. You caught him effortlessly, hugging him close, whispering something into his ear. Like you’d done it a thousand times before. Because you had.

🥹🥰🥹🥰

"You smell funny," he mumbled sleepily. You huffed a quiet laugh, shifting him in your arms. "Yeah? What do I smell like?" Jamie blinked up at you, barely awake. "Like trouble," he sighed.

This one seems to have more in common with his dad other than looks 👀

James Buchanan Barnes was coming for you. For both of you.

A chill danced down your spine, one you always felt when Bucky was near. Slowly, your eyes lifted, scanning the street. Nothing. No car. No sign of him. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t been here.

In Bucky's case that doesn't mean a thing..

I sure hope he does! He has 6 years to make up for lol

Jokes aside, I love this already and I'm so invested! I would love to read more of those two/three if you feel up for it 🤗

Trouble in Mind

Summary: Las Vegas, 1952. James Buchanan Barnes is the newest, and youngest, Capo in town. But amid the glitz and shadows of the Strip, he never expects to find you, the beautiful singer who vanished from his life six years ago without a trace. Bucky wants you back. And he wants answers. But you're only willing to give him one of those things.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Lounge Singer!Reader

A/N: This is an absolute fever dream inspired by #BuckyBarnesBirthdayBingo by @avengers-assemble-bingo. This fulfills the square: Mafia Bucky.

I went back to 50's Vegas because I need another world to get lost in. This is a little longer because this world is so fetch. I can't quite decide if he is going to be dark!Mafia! Bucky after this. Let me know what you think! Please reblog, comment, and like!

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Angst. Lots of cigarette smoking, longing, forbidden romance, Steve and Sam (they are warnings!), Bucky is an ass, cocky Bucky, smooth talker Bucky, young love, heart break, a slap (which he deserves), rough sex, wall sex, 50's foundation garments, long time no sex, oral (f receiving) squirting praise kink, raw p in v, lies, deceit, and crime, along with 1950's race relations and allusions to Jim Crow. Whew.

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-------

Las Vegas, 1952

Vegas glittered at night.

Neon lights buzzed, the air thick with cigarette smoke and money. And tonight, a set of eyes was watching you that you thought you’d left far behind. 

You felt his gaze before you even saw him. It burned into you from the darkest corner of the club. The kind of stare that made your skin prickle, which was both a warning and a temptation.

Bucky.

You’d heard a new Capo was coming to take over the casino, an up and comer from the East Coast, one of the youngest Bosses ever. 

You never imagined it would be Bucky Barnes.

------ 

Brooklyn, 1946

Bucky saw you before you ever looked his way.

James Buchanan Barnes was fresh out of the war and already sinking into the life waiting for him back home.

The one his mother prayed he’d stay away from. 

The one he walked into anyway.

The scent of fresh bread drifted from the bakery down the block as Bucky leaned outside the corner store, trading laughs with his boys, cigarette dangling from his fingers, watching the world pass him by.

Then you walked past, on the way to your vocal lessons.

Your head was high, shoulders squared, exuding the kind of confidence that was ingrained. Your dress clung just right, swaying with each step, and Bucky swore he forgot how to breathe.

He knew your type, a daddy’s girl, from a family with expectations. A good girl from Bed-Stuy, the kind who kept her nose clean and didn’t look twice at trouble.

Trouble, like him.

Down on the corner, they could hear your voice carry over the city noise, rising like a bird above the clatter of the el train.

Lark. That’s what they called you when you weren’t listening. Never to your face.

They knew better than to get too close, and Bucky knew better than to look too long.

But he looked anyway.

And when you finally met his eyes, something in you flickered.

Your father had warned you about guys like Bucky Barnes. 

‘Young punks’, he called them, hanging outside that shop owned by the local boss. Nothing but dead ends and broken hearts. He told you to keep your head high and your eyes forward, and to remember who you were. 

And if that warning wasn’t clear enough, there was another, unspoken one layered beneath it: Girls like you don’t mix with boys like him. Not in this world.

But when Bucky looked at you with those blue eyes, you knew you were already ruined. 

He found ways to get close. 

Catching your eye when you passed by, a slow smirk when you looked away too fast. Holding the door open a second too long, letting his fingers brush yours when he handed over your change. Words, always words, low and teasing, dangerous for a girl with a mind like yours. 

Words were your weakness.

"You gonna keep pretendin’ you don’t see me, Doll?" he asked one evening, stepping into your path as you left the bakery. 

You could smell his cologne and feel his heat and why were you thinking that his lips were nice? What was the tingle in your lower back that you just knew would go away if he touched you there?

You shook your head, remembering you couldn’t entertain this.

"You gonna keep acting like it don’t matter?" you shot back, heart pounding. 

You continued on your way but that night you couldn’t sleep for thoughts of him. 

One day, he whistled as you walked by. And that day, you stopped.

"You want a problem, Barnes?"

He smirked, looking you over blatantly and licking his lips.

"A problem’s not what I want, Doll. Just enjoyin’ the view."

That should’ve been the end of it. But it wasn’t.

You should’ve ignored him. Should’ve listened to your father. But you didn’t.

Because Bucky Barnes had a way of making himself impossible to ignore.

It was stolen glances at first, then hushed conversations on the stoop when the sun was setting. His voice curled around your name, making it sound like something precious. It was the thrill of his hand ghosting over yours, his fingers rough but careful, like he was afraid you’d pull away.

Except you never did.

You knew the risks. You knew people talked. In a world that kept its lines drawn thick and unyielding, Bucky chasing after you was a dangerous thing. 

But Bucky never cared about lines.

He didn't care when people whispered, when your father tightened the reins, when your friends warned you that even if he wasn’t afraid, the world wouldn’t be kind.

“You scared?” he asked one night, his voice soft but steady.

"Of what?"

"Of what happens if you let yourself want this as bad as I do.”

You should have been. But you weren’t.

At first, you told yourself it was just curiosity, just a bit of rebellion before you settled down and did what was expected of you. But curiosity turned into something more, something dangerous. 

Something like love.

Because when he kissed you for the first time, heat pressing against heat in the shadow of an alleyway, you didn’t care about the rules. Bucky tasted like smoke and sin and the promise of something reckless. And suddenly, all the warnings in the world didn’t matter.

Didn’t matter that Brooklyn had unspoken rules. Because Bucky knew what he wanted. And he knew you wanted him back. 

He savored those stolen nights in dark alleys, the way you melted under his touch, the way you let yourself need him, even if only when no one else could see.

And you knew that it wasn’t just about the thrill of sneaking around, or the way he could make your breath hitch with a single look. It was about him, the way he softened when it was just the two of you. The way his fingers traced slow patterns on your skin, memorizing you like you were something sacred.

The way he made you feel like you belonged to him.

Maybe you did. Because you gave him your innocence. 

But love like that didn’t come without consequences. 

What Bucky hadn’t expected, what he hadn’t planned for, was how deep he’d fall for you, how much he’d care.

You weren’t just a good time. You weren’t just a secret thrill. You were it.

The one thing that made the rest of the world fade away.

And maybe that’s why he didn’t see it coming.

One day you were there, warm and real beneath his hands. And the next, you were gone.

No warning. No note. No goodbye. Just vanished, into thin air.

And for six years, he told himself it didn’t matter. That if you wanted to leave, then fine. That he wasn’t the type to chase ghosts.

But then he saw you again, standing under the lights of a Vegas stage, your voice carving its way through the smoky haze.

And in that moment, Bucky Barnes knew one thing for certain.

This time, he wasn’t letting you run.

—-

Vegas, 1952

The man that you had to leave in the middle of the night was sitting in the lounge that you sang in. The man that you dreamed about at night as you sang love songs was right here in the room with you.

And you didn’t know how to act.

You should have run. But you didn’t.

He was seated in the VIP section, flanked by two other men in sharp suits, but he was the only one that mattered. The way he lounged, cigarette between his fingers, watching you like he never relinquished his ownership of you, made your head spin.

—--

Bucky leaned back in his seat, cigarette burning low between his fingers, letting the familiar hum of the casino settle into his bones: the money, the women, the men who thought they were untouchable.

Las Vegas glowed like sin, neon and greed dripping down its streets. It wasn’t Brooklyn, but it had its own kind of pull, its own kind of power. And now, it belonged to him.

It all revolved around him.

But none of it held his attention. Not like you did.

He saw you before you saw him, and for a moment, the world tilted as the air sucked straight out of the room.

Then you stepped onto that stage, looking like something spun from a dream, and for the first time in years, Bucky almost believed in fate.

He’d spent too long clawing his way up in this world to let anyone, or anything, decide his future for him. But seeing you again? It felt like something supernatural.

Because here you were.

In his city.

Singing like you owned the damn room.

You had changed. Not just older, not just more poised. It was in the way you carried yourself, the way you commanded the stage with a presence that made every other woman in the world fade to nothing.

And your body. It was a marvel, showcased in shimmering fabric that clung to curves he remembered all too well.

Now you had fuller hips and softer edges; your body was made to be held. If he got his hands on you again, he knew there would be more of you to worship, to savor.

You weren’t that wide-eyed girl from Brooklyn anymore. And yet, you were still his Lark.

He saw the exact moment you felt his gaze, the subtle tension in your spine, the way your fingers curled just a little tighter around the mic. Even after all these years, you could still feel him.

Then your eyes found him in the dim glow of the club, and Bucky saw it, the sharp inhale, the slight part of your lips, as if you were about to say his name.

It was enough to make his chest ache.

—--

You should’ve kept walking.

You should’ve ignored the butterflies in your belly and that tingle in your back that only Bucky Barnes had been able to inspire.

But you didn’t.

Instead, after your set, you let your feet carry you straight to his table.

Bucky smirked, his fingers tapping lazily against the glass in front of him. 

Like he knew you would come to him.

Six years gone, and yet the moment your eyes locked with his, it was like no time had passed at all. But you weren’t that girl anymore. And Bucky wasn’t that boy.

He was something else now. Something more defined. The suit fit too well, the watch on his wrist cost too much, and the men flanking him sat too still, waiting for his command.

Still, when he looked at you, it wasn’t the infamous new Capo of Las Vegas James Buchanan Barnes staring back.

It was him. Your Bucky.

The boy who once kissed you breathless in the back of a borrowed car.

The boy who called you ‘Baby’ like the word belonged to him.

The boy you left behind in the dead of night, never looking back.

Until now.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said, keeping your voice steady.

His smile was the same one that decimated you back in the day.

“Funny,” he said, tapping ash from his cigarette. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

Your stomach flipped, but you didn’t let it show. 

Bucky had always been too good at reading you. Way too good. And then he did something dangerous. He nodded to the empty seat beside him.

“Sit with me, Doll.”

The way he said it, low and easy, like it was a foregone conclusion made your body obey like you had long ago. Your fingers twitched at your side. But instead of walking away, you lowered yourself into the seat beside him, your skin prickling with goosebumps under his gaze.

And when he smirked again, just a little, like he’d just won something, your breath hitched.

Because you both knew.

Six years apart hadn’t changed a gotdamn thing.

—--

The moment you sat down, you knew you’d already lost something. Maybe the upper hand, maybe your damn mind, but something shifted the second you met his eyes and made the choice to stay.

Bucky took another slow drag from his cigarette, like he was savoring this moment. He exhaled a thin stream of smoke, peering at you through it with those blue eyes, then finally turned to the two men sitting beside him, as if he’d just remembered they were there.

“Fellas,” he drawled, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray, “this here is Trouble.”

Your lips parted slightly, a profane retort ready to go, but before you could snap back, he continued.

“Trouble, this is Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson.”

Steve, the blonde with the sharp blue eyes, nodded at you, his expression unreadable. He was the kind of man who didn’t say much but noticed everything.

Sam, on the other hand, smiled a beautiful gap-toothed grin. 

“Trouble, huh?” 

He extended a hand, and you hesitated before taking it, but his grip was warm and firm.

“I gotta say, any woman that can put that look on Barnes’ face is someone I gotta know.”

You arched a brow, tilting your head. 

“And what look is that?”

Sam’s grin widened. 

“Like he just won the jackpot.”

Your stomach tightened, but you kept your face neutral. Instead, you turned back to Bucky, leveling him with a look. 

“Trouble?”

Bucky’s lips curled, and something wicked danced in his eyes. 

“You always were.”

You didn’t blink. 

“And you always loved it.”

There was a silence thick with sex between you, and again the other men were forgotten.

Then, Steve cleared his throat. 

“How do you two know each other?”

Bucky chuckled darkly, and leaned back in his seat.

“Let’s just say…” His eyes met yours, heat simmering beneath the surface.  “She used to belong to me.”

The words struck your chest like lightning. You’d learned enough curse words to set his head on fire since you’d known him last, but you didn’t lace the room with profanity. 

Your fingers curled into a fist in your lap, but you kept your expression steady. 

You weren’t the girl anymore who let Bucky Barnes own her with a smile and a whispered promise in the dark.

So you tilted your head, letting your lips curve.

“Used to,” you repeated, voice smooth as velvet. “Interesting choice of words.”

Bucky’s smile didn’t drop, but he clutched his glass tighter, and you saw the way his jaw ticked.

Sam let out a low whistle, clearly enjoying the show. 

“Damn. She’s quick.”

Steve, ever the observer, just watched the exchange with a smirk.

You leaned in slightly, just enough to make Bucky’s eyes flicker to your mouth and down to your cleavage before he dragged them back up. 

“If I remember right, I was the one who left.”

Bucky exhaled a slow breath through his nose, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray again, his voice a shade lower now. 

“That’s what you think?”

You raised a brow. 

“That’s what I know.”

He made a sound low in his throat before taking another sip of his drink. He gazed at you like he was trying to figure out what to do with you now that you were sitting right in front of him again.

Then his eyes narrowed just a fraction.

“So tell me, Trouble. If you walked away so easy, why are you sitting here now?”

That’s the question, you thought.

So instead of answering, you reached for his glass, plucked it from his fingers, and took a slow sip before setting it back down.

Then you met his eyes and smiled.

“Maybe I just wanted to remind you,” you said softly. “That you don’t own me anymore.”

Bucky stared at you, unreadable. That muscle in his jaw twitched again.

Then, slowly, that wicked smirk crept back onto his face and he tilted his head at you, those blue eyes sparkling.

“We’ll see about that, Lark.”

—----

Bucky watched as you set his glass back down, the ghost of your lipstick staining the rim, taunting him. Six years apart, and you still knew how to get under his skin with a single look, a single move. 

A single sentence.

Maybe I just wanted to remind you… that you don’t own me anymore.

You challenged him in ways no one else dared to. And Bucky fucking loved it.

Steve and Sam were watching, though they had the good sense to stay quiet. Sam was chuckling, and Steve’s face held a small crooked smile, one that appeared after Bucky said Lark.

Bucky didn’t give a damn about either of them right now.

His eyes stayed on you. You were trying to be tough, but you had to be feeling the same pull that he was. Bucky leaned forward, closing the space just enough to catch your scent and see your pupils blow wider. 

Gotcha.

“Never needed to own you, Doll.” 

His voice was quiet, but there was steel beneath it. 

“That was never the game.”

Your lips parted slightly, but you caught yourself, chucking your chin up instead. 

“Then what was your game, James?”

He smiled again. He wasn’t about to hand you that answer.

Yet.

Instead, he sat back, dragging his gaze over you slowly, and licking his lips. 

You were still the most beautiful thing in the damn room, and you had to know it. That dress, those eyes; every man in this club was probably watching you, and wanting you.

But only one of them had ever had you.

And only one of them was going to again.

He tapped his fingers once against the table before rising smoothly to his feet. 

“C’mon.”

You blinked, “What?”

He nodded toward the back of the club, where the private booths were. Where you two could talk without an audience.

“Walk with me.”

A challenge. A test. A door you could still choose not to open.

Bucky saw you hesitate, for just a moment, but then you stood, smoothing out your dress and holding your head high like you hadn’t just made a decision that would change everything.

Bucky’s smirk widened.

That’s my girl.

—-

Bucky’s smirk deepened when you stood, like he’d known you would. That alone made something tighten in your chest, but you swallowed it down, lifting your chin as you followed him through the club.

The noise of the club, the conversations, the clinking of glasses, the jazz band, it all blurred as he led you toward the back, past the heavy velvet curtain that separated the VIP section from the private rooms. It infuriated you how easy it was to fall into step with him, how your body remembered before your mind could protest.

The moment you were away from prying eyes, he turned.

“You still listen like a Good Girl,” he murmured, voice smooth as smoke and just as dangerous.

You crossed your arms, shielding yourself from his stare as he leaned back against the small table between you, eyes skimming the curves of your dress like he had every right to.

“And you’re still a little asshole, Bucky.”

His smirk didn’t waver. If anything, it deepened. He pulled out a cigarette, tapping it against his lighter before the soft flicker of flame cast his face in gold. He inhaled slow, exhaled even slower.

“I think you know I’m not ‘little,’ Baby,” he said, voice dipping lower. “Bet you that cunt still curves to my dick.”

You didn’t think. Your palm met his cheek in a resounding slap before you could stop it.

Bucky only grinned.

“You must wanna see if it’s true,” he murmured, stepping closer, “because you know that turns me on.”

Your breath hitched, anger curling hot in your gut, and you turned to leave, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, gentle but firm.

“Sorry, Doll.”

You knew he was anything but.

Although he let you go the moment you glared at his hand, the heat of his touch lingered.

“Stay,” he said, quieter this time. “I think we need to talk, don’t you?”

You lifted a brow. “About?”

He studied you like he was searching for the right words.

“You left Brooklyn.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a wound, still fresh after six years.

You met his stare, steady. 

“I did.”

“Didn’t say a damn thing to me.”

You thought of the reason why, of the tiny heartbeat that changed your life forever, and you folded your arms tighter across your chest.

“Would it have mattered?”

Bucky let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he took another drag of his cigarette.

“That’s cute, Doll.”

His voice was rough.

“You really think I would’ve let you go?”

Your stomach clenched, but you didn’t flinch. 

“That might be why I didn’t tell you.”

His jaw ticked, frustration creeping into the lines of his face. He leaned in, forearms bracing against the table, his eyes locking onto yours.

“You ran. Fine.” 

His voice was softer now, laced with something you couldn’t name. 

“But tell me this. Was it worth it?”

The air left your lungs. You thought of why you ran. What was expected of you. What would’ve happened if you’d stayed.

Six years of building a life from scratch. Six years of trying to convince yourself you made the right choice. Six years of missing him. Six years of seeing his eyes every day both in your dreams and when you woke.

“Absolutely.”

Bucky’s gaze flickered, searching your face for something, doubt, regret, a lie. But he didn’t find it.

His voice was barely above a whisper when he said, “You were mine.”

You exhaled slowly. 

“I’m not sorry for what I did, Bucky. But I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

You meant it. Every word.

But you belonged to someone else now. Someone more important than James Barnes.

—---

Bucky’s eyes flashed, then he sat back in his seat, appraising you yet again. 

“It’s okay, Doll. I turned out okay. And here we are, together again.”

“We’re not together, Bucky.”

He took another drag of his smoke.

“Only a matter of time, Baby.”

You took a breath, steadying yourself, lifting your chin. 

“I have another set.”

Bucky smiled at you.

“I know.”

Of course, he knew. He ran this town and he always paid attention, always saw more than you wanted him to.

You stood, ready to walk away, to put some space between the past and the present before you lost yourself in it again. But before you could take a step, something small and cool slid against your palm.

You looked down.

A key.

Bucky’s fingers lingered over yours just long enough to make your pulse jump. He looked into your eyes and leaned down and it was like your lips were connected by magnets. 

He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes and regrets as his tongue slid into your mouth, establishing ownership yet again. 

He pulled back and rested his forehead on yours.

“Royal Sierra Hotel. Top floor,” he gruffed.  “I’ll be waiting.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

You should have dropped the key right back into his palm. Should have told him no, should have walked away, should have done a thousand things. 

But you did none of them. You just curled your fingers around the key, just for a second, then slipped it into your dress pocket like it meant nothing. 

Bucky didn’t call you on it. Didn’t press. He just smiled, slow and knowing, then stepped back.

“See you soon, Doll.”

Then he was gone, and you were left standing there, with a key in your pocket and a storm in your chest, knowing damn well you were about to make a mistake.

——

Your second set of the night flew by in a blur. Your voice soared through the rafters, full of emotion, carrying the weight of things you couldn’t say out loud. The memories all spilled into the songs, wrapped in melodies that weren’t yours but might as well have been. 

You poured your soul into every note, and the crowd felt it. They responded with enthusiastic applause and with generosity for the waitresses and bartenders. At the end of the night, the club manager pressed extra bills into your hand, murmuring something about record-breaking tips.

You barely heard him. 

Your mind was already made up.

You stepped out into the cool night air, exhaling as you raised your hand to hail a cab, but before you could, a smooth voice cut through the darkness.

“Need a ride?”

You turned, heels clicking against the pavement as you took in the sight before you.

Steve Rogers, all broad shoulders and quiet authority, leaned against a gleaming black Continental, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. 

Your brows lifted. 

“Didn’t peg you for a chauffeur.”

Steve chuckled.

“Just trying to be nice.” 

He nodded toward the passenger seat. 

“We’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

Your gaze shifted past him to Sam, watching you from inside the car, his smile just visible through the window.

“And if I need to go home?” you asked, testing.

Steve shrugged. 

“Then we’ll take the lady home. But if you’re looking for a little more excitement…”

“We know a place or two,” Sam finished, his voice tinged with amusement.

Despite yourself, you smiled. You liked them. Even if they were Bucky’s men, and even if they saw more than they let on.

“I’ll take you up on that,” you said, sighing as you stepped forward. 

“Standing on a stage in heels all night isn’t exactly easy on the legs.”

Steve’s gaze flickered down, tracing the slit in your dress, lingering just long enough to make your pulse skip.

“Those legs look just fine to me,” he murmured.

You arched a brow. Was Steve Rogers flirting with you? And was Sam giving you the same once over from the passenger seat?

And more importantly, what would Bucky do if he knew? 

You didn’t have time to wonder. Steve was already holding the door open, waiting. You slid inside, sinking into the plush leather seats, and shot him a tired, knowing smile as he shut the door behind you.

He climbed into the driver’s seat and adjusted the mirror, his eyes catching yours in the reflection. 

“Which way, Miss Y/L/N?”

You hesitated.

Bucky was making this hard.

You closed your eyes, reaching back, searching for the girl you were six years ago. The girl who ran. The girl who had every reason to. But she was gone, her memories worn thin, fragile as cigarette paper.

You could stand to make some new ones.

And they would have to last. Because this would only be one night.

“The Royal Sierra,” you said softly.

Steve’s lips twitched. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You two do this often?” you asked as the car rumbled to life.

Steve and Sam exchanged a glance, the kind that spoke volumes.

“I’ve known Bucky for three years,” Sam said, voice lighter than his meaning. “And I’ve never seen him give a woman the time of daylight.”

You let out a soft laugh.

“It’s nighttime, Sam.”

“Exactly,” he said, grinning. 

“He’s never introduced me to a dame before. Plenty have tried to get to him through us, but he doesn’t let ‘em. He just shoos ‘em off like stray dogs.” 

Sam’s smirk deepened. 

“But you? You’re different.”

Something in your chest tightened. You turned toward the back of Steve’s head. 

“What about you, Mr. Rogers?”

Steve cleared his throat, his hands flexing on the wheel.

“I’ve known Buck since we were kids in Brooklyn,” he said after a pause.

“And he’s only ever talked about one woman to me.”

The weight of his words settled over you. He didn’t have to say it. You knew.

Steve’s voice was softer when he added, “But he stopped talking about her about five and a half years ago.”

Your heart clenched.

You didn’t ask any more questions after that. You just let the city lights blur past the window, let the neon colors bleed together as they carried you to the man waiting at the top of the Royal Sierra.

Waiting for you.

——-

The Royal Sierra was a loud kind of quiet. The kind that came from power. Bucky’s kind of place.

Steve pulled up to the entrance, stepping out with effortless authority, like he’d done it a thousand times before. Like he belonged here. Like you belonged here. No one stopped you. No one asked questions.

His presence alone was a key. A shield.

Bucky Barnes’ reach extended farther than Mr. Crow’s.

Before you knew it, you were stepping into the elevator, watching the floors tick by, your pulse a slow, deliberate drum in your throat. And by the time you reached the penthouse, your body had made a decision your mind refused to acknowledge.

You lifted a gloved hand and slid the key into the lock.

The door opened instantly.

And then, there was Bucky.

His gaze collided with yours, stealing the air from your lungs. He didn’t move. Just stood there, watching you, burning you into his memory like he was afraid you might disappear if he blinked.

Then his hands were on you.

Your gasp was swallowed by his mouth crashing against yours, desperate and deep, like he had something to prove, like he needed you to know that six years hadn’t dulled his hunger for you.

You melted, even though you knew better.

You knew this was dangerous. That this wasn’t just about lust, or longing, or the years between you. But none of it mattered as you wound your arms around him, tangling your fingers in the dark curls you missed too damn much.

Bucky groaned, dragging you flush against him. His hands roamed lower, exploring this new version of you, the one with fuller curves, wider hips, a body that had known things he hadn’t been there to witness.

He needed to erase it all.

He deepened the kiss, his breath ragged as he backed you against the wall, pinning you there, swallowing the soft sound you made.

God, that sound.

He had dreamed about it.

You pulled back. Your lips were swollen, your breath uneven, you were beautiful. But there was something else in your eyes.

A flicker of hesitation.

Bucky smirked.

He didn’t want to talk. Not tonight. He wanted to taste you, to relearn every inch of you. 

He brought your hand up to his mouth, taking the glove off your hand with his teeth, one finger at a time.

Your mind short circuited, forgetting what you wanted to say, the only thought that your panties would burst into flames, but the liquid at your center would surely put the fire out.

Bucky Barnes was still so goddamn hot.

“You staying?” 

His voice was hoarse with desire.

Your lips parted slightly. Then, slowly, you nodded. That was all he needed.

With deliberate slowness, he backed you toward the couch, his blue eyes never leaving yours.

He didn’t know why you left.

Didn’t know why you were in Vegas.

Didn’t know how long he had.

And tonight, he wasn’t asking.

"Missed this," he murmured against your throat, his breath hot, his fingers digging into the roundness of your ass. His voice sent a shiver down your spine.

He turned you, fingers finding the zipper of your dress. You felt it slide down, the cool air kissing your bare skin as the rich fabric slipped from your shoulders, revealing the decadent silk and lace beneath.

Bucky let out a rough exhale.

The longline bra molded perfectly to your curves, the underwire and boning lifting your breasts high, the lace trim barely concealing your peaked nipples. The silk garter belt cinched your waist, accentuating the swell of your hips, its straps fastened to sheer stockings that clung to your legs like a whisper.

Bucky groaned low in his throat, his hands ghosting over your sides, gripping, kneading. 

“Jesus, Doll… you always did know how to drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he rasped.

He trailed a finger along the edge of your bra, teasing you through the lace with his knuckles grazing the soft swell of your breast. 

“Look at you… all wrapped up like a goddamn present,” he muttered, voice thick with reverence.

His hands slid down, and his thumbs traced slow, reverent paths along the edge of your garter, then lower, teasing the sensitive skin of your thighs. He tilted his head, lips curving against your jaw.

“Been dreamin’ about this,” he whispered, voice dripping with possession. 

“And now it’s real.”

You shivered beneath his touch, and Bucky smirked, satisfied. He trailed his fingers lower, slipping beneath the garter belt to palm your ass, squeezing greedily, pulling you flush against him.

“Missed these fuckin’ curves,” he groaned, rolling his hips against you, letting you feel just how hard he was, how much he needed you.

He was losing patience. Six years was too damn long.

His hands found the hooks of your bra, and he made quick work of them, peeling the garment from your body and tossing it over his shoulder. He pulled back for just a second, just long enough to admire the sight of you, bare, breathless, your eyes fully dilated.

“Damn, Doll” he whispered, voice almost reverent. 

Then his mouth was on you, trailing down your neck hotly, over your collarbone, lower, until his lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking, groaning when your fingers tangled in his hair, when your body arched into his mouth.

“Feel so good,” he murmured against your skin, voice wrecked.

His hands roamed lower, curling around your thighs, gripping hard as he lifted you effortlessly, walking you backward until your spine hit the cool surface of the wall.

Bucky looked up at you then, eyes burning, voice nothing but gravel.

“Hold on tight, Baby. I ain’t letting you go this time.

Bucky pressed a kiss into you, his hard length grinding against your soaked panties. The heat of him, the sheer size of him, had you trembling.

"Need inside you, Doll… so fucking hard for you," he groaned, his voice rough with need.

You gasped as he rocked into you, your damp panties and his boxers doing little to separate the friction between you. Your hips rolled in response, dragging a throaty grunt from his lips.

"Fuck!"

Bucky hooked a finger into your panties, yanking them to the side. The first brush of his bare cock against your slick folds sent a shudder through you. It was heaven. The aching kind. The kind you felt.

"Bucky, please!"

You needed to feel him again after so long.

His thick cock slid through your folds, coating himself in your arousal, teasing your clit with every slow stroke. You felt everything, the ridges, the veins, the swollen head nudging at your entrance.

At the same time, his mouth latched onto your nipple, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. His calloused fingers kneaded the roundness of your ass, pulling unashamed whimpers from your throat.

"Mine," Bucky growled.

Your breath hitched. But just as you prepared for that first, deep thrust, he pulled back.

You gasped in protest.

"Gonna fuck you proper, though. In a bed."

You let out a breathless laugh as Bucky scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you to his bedroom. He laid you out, spreading your legs as he loomed over you, devouring the sight. His manicured nails dragged over your thighs in a slow, teasing stroke.

Your breath stuttered with anticipation.

"Be a good girl for me," he murmured, eyes dark with intent. "And grab my hair if you need to."

Confusion flickered in your eyes, until you felt your legs being thrown over his shoulders. Then, Bucky was between your thighs.

You scrambled up on your elbows, heat rushing to your face as he spread you open with two fingers, stroking the sensitive, slick folds hidden beneath. His gaze locked onto your glistening sex, mesmerized.

"So beautiful, Lark."

Your breath came in shallow gasps as he ran his fingers through your wetness, spreading it.

"So wet… dripping… coating my fingers, Baby."

The filthy words, the intensity of his stare, made fresh arousal seep from you. Your inner walls clenched around nothing, aching for more.

"Pinch those nipples for me," Bucky rasped,

Your lips parted in shock, but his stare was unwavering. With a shaky breath, you obeyed.

The added sensation sent pleasure rippling through you, making your back arch, your ass pressing into the mattress as Bucky pumped his fingers nice and slow. The other hand fisted around his cock, stroking in time with the movement inside you.

Your gaze dropped to watch him touch himself as he touched you. Fuck.

A gush of slick spilled from you. Bucky cursed under his breath, scissoring his fingers, stretching you, preparing you.

"So fucking tight, Doll. Need to get you ready."

Then, his head dipped lower. Your gasp filled the room. Bucky smirked.

"Why so shocked?" he taunted. "You act like you haven’t had sex since I borrowed Johnny’s car—"

He stopped.

Your face must have given you away because his own softened instantly.

"Oh, shit."

His tone was different now, understanding. 

"It’s okay, Baby. I got you."

Determination flashed in his blue eyes as he leaned down again, brushing a featherlight kiss against your most sensitive place. It was intimate. Like he was kissing your mouth.

Then, he licked into you, slow and deliberate, and your world shattered. Lightning coursed through your veins as your thighs instinctively clamped around his head. Your fingers fisted in his curls, tugging mercilessly.

Bucky groaned in approval, his tongue swirling, sucking, worshiping. Every swipe, every firm drag, every deep flick had you writhing beneath him, riding his face, chasing oblivion.

When he pried your thighs apart and plunged two fingers back inside, curling them just right, you detonated. 

Your orgasm ripped through you, your body seizing, your walls fluttering around his fingers as a flood of wetness spilled into his mouth.

"Bucky!"

He pulled back, lips glistening, eyes dark with satisfaction.

"S’okay, Baby. It’s natural."

Then he leaned down again. And drank from you like a man dying of thirst.

You whimpered, overwhelmed, your body trembling as he held you down, refusing to let you escape. The overstimulation was brutal, unbearable.

Too much, too good.

"Really have been such a good girl for me…" he murmured against your sensitive skin.

Then, his voice dropped to something sinful.

"Gonna give you this cock you been waiting for."

When he finally kissed you, his lips slick with you, the last shred of restraint dissolved.

You moaned into his mouth as he lined himself up, dragging the thick, swollen head of his cock through your drenched folds. He parted your lips, teasing you with tiny, torturous strokes. Then, with a sharp slap, he tapped his cock against your clit, making you cry out.

"Shit, Doll…" 

Bucky’s voice was strained, his jaw tight as he fought for control. You rolled your hips, desperate, pleading.

"Inside, please!"

"You’re gonna feel… so… goodddd…"

He bit it out through clenched teeth as he pushed forward slow, steady, and stretching you inch by inch. You choked on a moan as he filled you. He was so big. You had forgotten how thick, how deep, how perfect he felt inside you.

"Ohhhhhh, Bucky!"

"Right here, Baby."

His eyes locked onto you, greedily drinking in your bouncing breasts, your trembling stomach, the way your body took him. The sight alone nearly ended him. His head dropped back, his grip on you tightening as he bottomed out, grinding his hips into yours, making you wail in pleasure.

"You feel amazing… so fucking good. Never felt anything like this, I swear, Lark."

Your walls clenched around him, and Bucky’s face twisted, his control slipping.

"I need you to cum all over my dick."

You gasped as his hand found your clit, circling it with the same practiced precision that always ruined you. His other hand pinched your nipple, sending another bolt of pleasure straight to your core.

"Cum for me, Doll."

You had no choice. Your body seized, pleasure obliterating you as you came, gushing around his cock, wave after wave of ecstasy rolling through you.

Bucky’s grip turned bruising as he drove into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt. His breath caught. 

"Mine!" he growled. 

And his release filled you, thick and hot, as his body shuddered violently against yours.

And in that moment, tangled together, sweat-slicked and sated, you both knew

You were his again.

—--

Bucky collapsed beside you, chest heaving, staring blankly at the ceiling.

You did the same, but while he was basking in the afterglow, warmth spreading through his chest like hope, your stomach twisted into knots.

"Where you going, Lark?"

His voice was thick with exhaustion, but he still caught the way you shifted, the way your body tensed before you sat up.

"Bathroom," you murmured, already moving. "Need to clean up."

Something flickered in his eyes, something soft, something real. But the moment you slipped away, his hope dimmed just a little.

You disappeared into the harsh fluorescent glow of the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

—--

Bucky sat at the edge of the bed, watching as you slipped your shoes back on. You moved quickly, deliberately. Like you’d planned your exit before you ever walked through his door.

"You don’t have to run out like this," he said, voice rough.

You hesitated, just for a second, before fastening your coat.

"I have to get home."

Bucky’s fingers flexed against the sheets.

"Home."

He rolled the word over his tongue. He didn’t like the way it tasted.

Your gaze lifted, and for a fleeting moment, something flickered there, regret, and sorrow buried so deep he almost missed it.

Bucky nodded, jaw tight. He had questions. Too many. But he knew you wouldn’t answer them.

So he let you go.

But that didn’t mean he was letting this go.

—-----

Bucky sat in the back of the Continental, silent as Steve drove.

He hadn’t said a word since Steve muttered, “I’ll take you to where she lives.”

Vegas never slept, but the streets were quiet this early. Bucky stared out the window, jaw clenched.

He should’ve stopped you from leaving. Should’ve asked the damn questions instead of letting you walk out. But you were good at slipping away. You’d done it before.

Not this time.

Steve glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

"You sure about this?"

Bucky’s eyes stayed on the road ahead.

"Just drive."

Steve sighed but didn’t argue. The car veered off the Strip, where the lights weren’t as bright, where the buildings weren’t as tall, where the money wasn’t as loud. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, but it sure as hell wasn’t where Bucky expected you to be.

The car slowed.

A modest duplex came into view, its porch light flickering on.

Bucky barely registered anything beyond you were here. Until he saw the front door open.

You stepped out, wrapped in a housecoat, makeup gone, hair wrapped in a scarf. Then you walked to the neighboring unit. And knocked. The door cracked open.

And out ran a little boy.

Bucky sat up straighter, his breath hitching as the kid bolted toward you, dark messy hair bouncing, big blue eyes shining as he laughed, launching himself into your waiting arms.

You caught him effortlessly, hugging him close, whispering something into his ear.

Like you’d done it a thousand times before.

Because you had.

The realization hit like a bullet to the ribs.

You had a son.

Bucky’s world tilted.

Then, the boy’s voice, small and sleepy, carried through the quiet street.

"Mama, you’re home."

His breath left him in a rush.

"Yes, Jamie, I’m home."

Steve tensed, hands gripping the wheel.

Bucky’s hands curled into fists.

"Buck—"

"Drive," he rasped. The word barely made it past his lips.

Steve hesitated.

"Now."

The car pulled away, but Bucky’s eyes stayed locked on you.

Six years.

Six years, and you had kept this from him.

—---

The moment Jamie crashed into your arms, the world melted away.

"Mama, you’re home!"

You exhaled shakily, smoothing his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Miss Thea stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her housecoat, watching with quiet understanding. She didn’t ask questions. Never had. Just gave you a slow nod before retreating inside.

Jamie yawned, burrowing into your shoulder, his little arms tightening around your neck.

"You smell funny," he mumbled sleepily.

You huffed a quiet laugh, shifting him in your arms.

"Yeah? What do I smell like?"

Jamie blinked up at you, barely awake.

"Like trouble," he sighed.

Your breath caught.

A chill danced down your spine, one you always felt when Bucky was near. Slowly, your eyes lifted, scanning the street.

Nothing. No car. No sign of him. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t been here.

You swallowed hard, clutching Jamie closer as you stepped inside, locking the door behind you. You couldn’t shake the feeling.

Bucky knew.

And no matter how much you wanted to believe you could keep him away….You knew better.

James Buchanan Barnes was coming for you.

For both of you.

[lemotmo]

They really are watching an entirely different show. But this is hilarious 🤣🤣

Q. I cannot believe you enjoyed last night? They literally said 'all these people want me to be in love with my straight best friend but that's not the case'. They literally mentioned your ship to kill it dead. How do you people not get that? You with your we're getting Buck's feelings realization. Yeah you did, and his feelings don't exist for Eddie. Truly embarrassed for you.

A. Oh sweetie, we basically did get his feelings confirmation. I understand that the only card you all have left to play is denial. It's literally the last one in your deck. So you clutching onto it for dear life makes perfect sense. So feel free to clutch it hard while I answer this. I'm going to make it flash card simple for you.

*Buck can't sleep in the house

*Buck can't bring himself to unpack anything

* Maddie tells Buck to make new friends

* Ravi gets recruited to be Buck's new friend. Only Buck can't talk about anything other than Eddie (shout out to the confirmation that Buck took Eddie to the Lakers game. And shout out to rebel competent Eddie that Buck is thoroughly impressed by and will defend to the death)

*Ravi, in a desperate attempt to escape the Eddie fest, spots Tommy and sees an escape route

* Tommy goes to the table (side note: how did he look worse than he did before? How did he get even less attractive? Wild)

*Tommy asks Buck how he is. Buck info dumps about Maddie and trying to adjust to Eddie being gone.

* This is news to Tommy who tells Buck that Eddie stopped talking to him after they broke up (Eddie is the biggest Buck stan in the world so of course he did)

*Camera cuts to the little smile that appears on Buck's face when he learns this.

*Only after Tommy learned that Eddie moved out of the state does he decide to flirt (I'm assuming that was flirting but the actor sucks ass so Oliver and the audience had to do the heavy lifting)

*They go back to EDDIE'S house to hook up on a sheet less mattress on the literal floor

* Buck wakes up alone on the mattress (literally no one wanted to see the alternative so bless you Aisha) and finds Tommy in the kitchen where he has cooked breakfast

* Buck tells him last night was fun but he understands that nothing's changed. But, BIG SHOCK, Tommy is suddenly no longer concerned about Buck breaking his heart (but how can that be you may ask)

* Tommy attempting to sound jokey (again the actor is terrible so we can only assume he was going for lighthearted) tells Buck he's not too worried about it now that his competition has moved out of the state. This confirms that Tommy knows Eddie is competition where Buck is concerned.

* This confuses Buck because what competition could he possibly be referring to? Tommy responds by saying come on Even (his name is Buck you plot device piece of wasted space) don't make me say it out loud

* Buck then realizes that he is talking about Eddie. And his immediate response is to say Eddie is straight (the word straight becomes Buck's best friend for the remainder of the episode)

* Tommy, the GAY character, audibly scoffs at this declaration and says 'Okay' (at this point the GA would have gone...wait a minute the gay character doesn't think Eddie is straight hmmm probably something to ponder) look at the good little plot device plot devicing

* then Buck Buckley says with his entire chest out 'I DON'T NEED TO SLEEP WITH EVERYONE I HAVE FEELINGS FOR (opps accidental truth bomb) AND I DON'T HAVE FEELINGS FOR EVERYONE I SLEEP WITH (this was Buck basically telling Tommy he never really caught feelings for him, it was just physical so oops another accidental truth bomb.)

*Cut to our strongest soldier Maddie Han fresh from having her throat slit open (she looked SO good) trying her best not to lose her damn mind with how stupid her baby brother is

* Buck, and his new best friend, his declaration of Eddie's straightness, tell Maddie that he is not in love with Eddie BECAUSE Eddie is straight (good time to remind you that neither Tommy or Maddie ever said the word love. That was all Buck. Buck is the one who said love, and each time he did he denied it by saying Eddie is straight) The way he denied it was an admission. Hope that helps. Eddie being straight is the ONLY reason Buck gave as to why he's not in love with him. That's not a reason. Also, fun media literacy fact, any time a character is referred to as straight that many times generally means that character is not in fact straight.

* Then Buck admits that he only slept with Tommy to distract himself from the fact that he was missing Eddie. Maddie then tells him that's not a good reason to get back together with someone. Buck says he should probably call him at least and apologize (Tim later admits in an interview that Buck did not call him 'because he got busy with other things). So it's canon that Buck didn't care enough to call him.

In conclusion, anon, the plot device returned to tell the general audience there's a good chance Eddie is not straight, and might in fact be someone Buck is allowed to be in love with. Because the character the audience knows as gay is a better narrator for Eddie's sexuality at the moment than Buck is. Also the show cannot have Buck explicitly admit and realize he's in love with Eddie until the audience knows for sure that Eddie is an option for Buck. Episodes 9, 10 and 11 were all for the general audience. They were telling the audience to start thinking about their relationship differently. And not a single episode has been difficult to follow. They have made this very, very easy for everyone. Please feel free to keep clutching your denial cards, that's your right, but everyone else, including the general audience has moved on. They have opened the Buddie box and there's no going back now.

Thank you Nonny!

All right, this one is for all the people in my inbox asking (or begging in some cases) for Ali's opinion on the episode. Here you go! 😋

You already know my answer to the question Ali received. I made a post about it earlier. It doesn't start from the same input, but it comes down to the same thing in the end. You can find it here.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[cumplanecrash]

Almost 1200 words of shizun babies, in which Shen Jiu receives 1d4 Psychic Damage. Twice. Because he's my favorite 😈 ETA because I messed up my counting: this is the first part in-text that the boys fake having fantasy dissociative identity disorder to get away with lying about their identities; right now it's low detail but they'll be continuing to lean into that assumption, especially when Mu Qingfang comes back the next in-universe day.

AO3 🔗 Shizun Babies AU tag 🔗 writeblogging Shizun Babies 🔗 first 🔗 prev

By the time they had returned to the main room, their disciples had been dismissed, presumably after arranging the table to their liking, with two relatively full spreads on the side nearer to their bedroom and a modest spread of teatime portions closer to the guests.

"Shen-shixiong," Mu-shidi started, pausing awkwardly halfway through sitting at the table.

"Shen Yuan," Yue Qingyuan said, pointing (correctly, it should be noted), "and Shen Jiu."

"I see," Mu Qingfang said, coming back to a seated position. "Ah, neither of you should hesitate to tuck in, we can't be sure how thorough a transformation this might be."

"Thorough enough," was all Shen Jiu wanted to say, but then, "that even when it's just the two of us, we're prone to outbursts," followed. He desperately started stuffing his face in the awkwardness that followed.

"So there are aspects that are lessened when it is just the two of you?" Mu-shidi caught on immediately.

"A-Yuan has more freedom to choose his words with just Xiao Jiu," Shen Yuan gracefully jumped in while thumping Shen Jiu on the back in the name of trying to swallow normally. "Names are most consistently affected, but anything appropriate to A-Yuan's real age or rank might be filtered."

"A measure to keep the deception from being discovered," Yue Qingyuan guessed recklessly, ascribing motive the way Shen Jiu has told him not to a thousand times before.

"Don't act like Qi-ge can read minds," Shen Jiu snapped. "Qi-ge wasn't there!"

Yue Qinguan smiled in that sad way he got, and Shen Yuan boggled. He hastily held up a hand to his mouth. "Does Xiao Jiu have some kind of history with the teapot guy?" he whispered far too loud, even before one considered that the people he was trying not to be heard by were high level cultivators.

...

"Huh?" Shen Jiu asked, weakly.

Shen Yuan drank his tea like a shot, blushing hard enough to cook an egg from over where Shen Jiu was sitting. "You know," he said, strangled. "Because he has a compulsive purchasing problem and needs to unload his hoard before they literally fall on his head, so he keeps dropping them on his various shidimei?"

"Hmm," Mu Qingfang said blandly. "I suppose this shidi's gift just got lost in the mail, isn't that so, Yue-shixiong?" He turned a sly smile to the sect leader, elevating him immediately to least unfavorite martial sibling in Shen Jiu's eyes.

"Ah," Yue Qingyuan blushed. "That is to say ..."

As the fellows around the table waited for Yue Qingyuan to finish his thought, their sense of kinship rose as the chances he could come up with an acceptable excuse for lying to Shen Yuan plummeted.

"That's sexual harassment!!" Shen Yuan told Qi-ge seriously.

"This is what happens when you pretend to know what other people are thinking," Shen Jiu told Yue Qingyuan seriously.

("Wait, that didn't get filtered?" Shen Yuan asked to no one's notice. "Is there xianxia HR I should be worried about?")

Yue Qingyuan's face had completely lost all color, eyes unseeing as he stared above the shrunken Shens' heads.

Shen Jiu sighed. "Qi-ge was just trying to get us to be friends with him again, even though Xiao Jiu was nasty. He's not being wierd." Don't make me say more, not in front of Mu Qingfang; not in front of Qi-ge, it'll break his heart.

"First off," Shen Yuan said, riling himself up again. "Why's Yue-da-ge giving us presents if Xiao Jiu is the one that was nasty? Apologize to Yue-da-ge already! What could he possibly done to warrant any nastiness? He has the personality of an uncooked noodle! And second of all," he turned to Yue Qingyuan, "It's gonna look weird to everyone else if Yue-da-ge isn't giving gifts to everyone like he said, and that's nearly as bad as actually being weird. A-Yuan already has to deal with Shen Qingqiu's reputation from when Xiao Jiu was being nasty to everyone, don't put more targets on my back! I want to live!!"

("Couldn't be me," Shen Jiu muttered, and Yue Qingyuan's eyes focuses sharply on him, but it was Qi-ge, so nothing came of it.)

Mu Qingfang's head tilted to one side. "Wait. Is the split in shixiong's memory and personality a preexisting condition, rather than part of the spell?"

Shen Jiu dismissed the System before it could even get out a syllable. "Of course!"

Shen Yuan nodded fiercely beside him. "Xiao Jiu has always been here, and A-Yuan is here to help!"

"I see," Mu Qingfang said, taking his glasses off to rub at them the way he did when he needed something to strangle that wasn't the patient in front of him. Shen Jiu was intimately familiar with that little routine. "This is information that, as your primary physician, this shidi could have used earlier."

Shen Jiu looked over to find Shen Yuan already looking to him. They turned back to Mu-shidi, shrugging in unison.

Mu Qingfang sighed, using one hand to rub both temples briefly before facing them again. "That actually might be the detail we need to start narrowing down what kind of counterspells and antidotes to try. Interactions with mirrored souls are rare, but fairly well documented when they do happen. A full body transformation, with a verbal censorship component? And your disciples said it was fired as if one spell. This Mu feels confident to begin ... Ah." he stopped, and stared each of them hard in turn as he asked. "Shixiong would have mentioned if there was any other physical symptoms, such as pain or discomfort, right?"

"Nothing that wasn't settled by an early supper," Shen Jiu informed him truthfully. Which, he would have said regardless, but honestly, he felt like a kid again. Ha. Well.

"A-Yuan's meridians are as clear as before the mission, I think," Shen Yuan said. "Honestly, A-Yuan is surprised all this didn't cause Without-a-Cure to flare up."

Fucking what.

"It would be too much to hope that being returned to a form from before Xiao -- " Yue Qingyuan interrupted himself with a cough. "Ah, A-Yuan's poisoning, would undo the poisoning."

"What do you mean Without-a-Cure?" Shen Jiu asked desperately, grabbing Shen Yuan around the shoulders. "What??? How?? Are we dying? How much longer do we have to live? How did I sleep through that?!?"

Shen Yuan shrugged. "A-Yuan was under the impression that he was alone out here, so he did his best."

... Condemning a new soul, wait no, a soul new to this world, to the responsibilities he had earned and fled, had been exceptionally nasty, even for a monster like Shen Jiu, hadn't it. Ouch. "... Sorry, Yuan-ge."

Shen Yuan put his hand on Shen Jiu's shoulder. "As long as Xiao Jiu answers A-Yuan's questions in the future, so that A-Yuan doesn't actually call someone important the teapot guy again, then Xiao Jiu will be forgiven."

"...Fair."

(Mu Qingfang finishes checking their meridians, which he probably should have done when he got there except they had been legitimately famished, without comment.)

[wonton4rang]

i cant stop thinking about vamp leehan and taesan not being able to stop drinking your blood and biting you everywhere...

alright so I think I've said this many times but the way I absolutely LOVE vampires is kinda obsessive so unfortunately I'm going to have to elaborate this because Leehan and Taesan are my two biases in BND and yeah, well.

but like, imagine you being Taesan's or Leehan's girlfriend, both of them being vampires, calling you up one night and you already knew something was up by the way they rushed you to get to their place, waiting for you with the lights out and completely in silence.

you can't lie and say that you didn't feel chills when they fast paced to face you the second you opened their apartment door with your spare key. I see it going down two ways, two different behaviors I think each boy would have so let's break them down separately.

Leehan;

I feel like Leehan would be a little bit more desperate, being fast to cup your face and smile at you with his fangs in full display, making chills run down your spine, because don't get me wrong, you were not precisely afraid of him but he was still a creature that had power over you. Extremely strong and skilled, putting you against the wall to sniff your neck with a low groan, smiling against your skin when he said "I missed your scent so much, thank you for coming"

and honestly all you could do was nod and hold his arms to feel him closer, waiting for what he wanted to do tonight but you damn knew he was hungry with the way his body was projecting that unusual heat, contrary to his usual cold aura and skin.

"baby, is everything okay?" you mumbled, getting a nod from him and jolting a bit surprised when he grazed the skin of your neck with his fangs "hungry much?" you laughed but soon enough had to keep your composure when he just straight up bite you, hard, a single bite that got instant access to your jugular.

you didn't even say anything because, honestly, you liked it when he did this, you felt wanted and the pain that it caused you made you a little bit hot so you just left him, resting your back on the wall and giving him more access to your neck, smiling a little bit when you heard him moan against your already drenched in blood skin.

but the problem was that he kept going even when you felt like passing out, your head spinning, your limbs barely keeping you up and your eyes threatening to close in any second.

"hannie" you called him in a whisper, your hands barely pushing him due to the lack of strength your body held right now "baby, please, enough"

surprisingly enough he didn't stop immediately, instead he held your head and got a fist of your hair to keep you in place while he kept sucking almost until the last drop of blood left your body, retracting his fangs and licking to clean your neck.

by now you were barely awake, almost passed out on his arms when he took you to the couch of his living room and made you lay there, kissing the top of your head with a small "sorry, baby, rest" that ultimately lead to you falling asleep.

Taesan;

I feel like opposite to Leehan, he would be a little bit more aggressive, barely giving you time to even say 'hi' when he already had you on his lap, sitting on his couch when he forced himself onto your neck, sinking his teeth in a second and immediately starting to suck your blood.

he had a weird obsession with your blood so you were not 'scared' of him but you also knew he lacked self control when it came to you and your 'sweet' blood, as he liked to describe it.

so you, indeed, were nervous when he didn't even ask for permission as usual, trying to push him away to ask him if everything was okay and only getting your ribs squeezed when he held you with more strength with one arm, the other one holding your head to keep it aside.

your legs where on each side of his thighs and you could feel him getting harder below your clothed heat, instinctively moving your hips against him and getting a moan that only made him suck into your neck harder.

"Taesan, that's enough" but we both know he wouldn't listen, not right now when all he could think of was the taste of your blood and the way you kept moving in top of him. like you wanted him to continue, and yes, you did want him to keep going but your body wasn't strong enough to take what he was giving you.

so when he finally stopped, you left out a weak moan, almost falling when he hugged you and gave you a soft kiss, you feeling the metallic flavor of your own blood in your tongue and you just could smile when he looked deep in your eyes and said the following words.

"I love you so much, y/n, you and your stupid blood have me on a leash" he smiled and the proceeded to say "unfortunately, I might loose your blood before I loose you so I hope you're ready for an eternity with me loving you everyday"

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

bnd vampire concept when??? please be tomorrow !!

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

I'm swooping right in bc i have a danny thought that has been following me all week:

I'm imagining roommate danny offering to help you get over your ex, taking you out for food or something, and the tension snaps when you get back to your place, the two of you end up fucking against the front door, but your ex decided to drop by unannounced and when he knocks you both freeze, but Danny's smirking and he starts murmuring dirty things in your ear as you're giggling and trying to stifle him. (And when you're waiting to hear if he's left Danny gives you a good thrust-)

He'd be knocking and jiggling the handle, "Hey, are you home?" The two of you freezing in place. Your back up against the door while Danny's strong arms are holding you up, your legs wrapped around his waist, both of you in various states of undress. Your eyes wide, as you both listen. He knocks again, louder, you can feel the thumps on the wood against your back. "Baby, come on. Let's just talk." He'd call out. "Aw, he just wants to talk." Danny would whisper, a grin on his face. "I don't know if you wanna stop." He whispers against your lips, moving slowly again, bouncing you against his hips.

"Mmm." You stifle a moan. "Baby, please, I'm sorry! I told you I'm never speaking to her again!" Your ex yells from behind the apartment door. "I think you want to keep bouncing on my cock, hm?" Danny teases, his voice a little above a whisper as he thrusts faster. "Y-Yeah," you sigh.

"It was just one time! Or uh, I guess like a couple of times after that," your ex-boyfriend says, talking to himself at this point. You feel so hot, letting Danny fuck you like this after ages of friendship, letting the worry of the past few days melt away with every motion of your bodies. "But I want you, baby!" He calls again. "You don't need him. You deserve someone who worships you, who can't even think of anyone else but you." Danny says, kissing your neck. You let out another moan, wrapping yourself tighter around him, nails digging into the muscle of his back. "Fuck, oh baby I want you." You moan. "God, you feel so good." Danny murmurs against your lips, kissing you harder, fucking you deeper. "Is...is someone there with you?!" Your ex asks, his voice shocked, "Are you fucking kidding me?!" He yells out, his fists banging against the door, hard. Danny moves you to the rug underneath you, getting you away from the door. "I want you to fuck me, show me what I've been missing." You say, watching Danny move on top of you, his eyes making a meal of you. He presses himself back inside of you, the both of you moaning as he fills you up. "Baby, open this door right now!"

Danny kisses you hard, his hips moving faster, your moans unabashed as he fucks into you. Letting the sounds of your bodies fill the room, your exes voice drowning out of your ears as Danny fills up your senses. He's all that matters. "Oh my God, fuck! Ahh oh my God yes, yes, yes!" You cry out, knowing just how loud you are, knowing the man behind that door could never fuck you this way. Danny is loving every minute of it, doing all he can to pull every sound from you.

"That's it, baby, there you go. Let it out." His voice like silk, you hold him closer and can't help just how loud you are. Cumming all over his cock. "Oh my God! Danny, yes, oh fuuuuck!" You cry, your orgasm taking hold of you. "Danny?? That guy?! Are you serious??" Your ex exclaims, both in shock and disgust. "Oh fuck yeah," Danny groans, cumming deep inside of you. The two of you collapse into each other, feeling on cloud nine like this. "I've been waiting for this." Danny smirks, kissing you softly.

"I'm still here?!" Your ex yells, the two of you laugh. "I don't have to take this! You two can go fuck yourselves!" He huffs, flustered. "We just did!" You shout, the two of you laughing as you hear him march down the hallway. "Hell of a first time, huh?" You giggle. "Well, we're alone now. As much as I appreciated being able to have an audience." Danny jokes. "Did feel pretty good to do that." You grin. "Next time, maybe we'll make it to the bed."

[msklassickilla]

Prada You 2 Chapter 3: Shackles

Summary:

Three years have passed, but in city, the past never truly stays buried. The Prada Bois have grown stronger, their grip on the city unshaken. Old faces remain, new tensions rise, and the streets are more dangerous than ever.

Toya’s wedding should be a day of celebration, but for those who knew her, it’s something more—a gathering thick with whispers, with the weight of what was lost. Some wounds have scarred over, while others remain raw, unspoken.

Yet, the night brings a shift. A presence. A force that neither time nor distance could erase. The whispers start first, a low hum of disbelief that spreads like wildfire. Some things refuse to be forgotten. Some stories aren’t finished.

Because in this city, love, loyalty, and revenge all walk the same tightrope. And once the past steps forward, there’s no turning back.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Nyeya (Nye), Jacob Fatu x Kiyah, Sami Zayn x Natasha, Jimmy Uso x Nataya

Author’s Note: This story is set in a AU that takes place over summer in 2002. It has four original characters. If you come across this and haven’t read the first story, click here.  Again, I appreciate y’all for all the love and support. I hope I’m able to create something that’s worthy as Prada You.

Warnings: Some minor harsh language and age gap relationships. And some heavy conversations and mentions of murder and violence.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Chapter 3: Shackles

May 25th 2002 (small change chapter 1 & 2 happened on the May 18th instead)

Saturday morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting narrow lines across the bathroom tile as I stood in front of the mirror, curling my hair with a level of focus that surprised even me.

“… 'cause you'll always be my baby.. And we'll linger on.. Time can't erase a feelin' this strong.. No way you're never gonna shake me.. Ooh darlin' 'cause you'll always be my baby..”

Mariah Carey’s "Always Be My Baby" floated from the stereo perched on the dresser in the far corner of my room, her voice soft but steady. I found myself singing along, curling one section at a time, trying not to think too hard about anything except getting through the day.

There was a calm to the morning I hadn’t felt in a while, a quietness that came from knowing I had something to look forward to. Reggie had offered to take me to the dealership today to pick out a car, and I wasn’t about to turn that down. Out of everybody, he was the one I trusted to help me make the right choice. Being a mechanic, he’d know what to look for—what was worth the money and what was a waste of it.

Mid-curl, my phone rang from the counter, vibrating against the cool marble. I glanced over, recognizing Kiyah’s name immediately. Setting the iron down, I wiped my hands on the towel before answering.

"Hey, girl. What's up?"

Her voice came through light and casual, but there was an edge to it. "What you got going on next Saturday?"

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at my reflection. "Far as I know, nothing. Why?"

There was a brief pause, then she sighed. "I’ma tell you in person. Come by later."

That piqued my curiosity, but I wasn’t about to press her over the phone. Kiyah was dramatic by nature, but if she wanted to wait, I’d let her. "Alright. I’ll come through once I get back from the dealership. Reggie’s takin’ me to get a car."

Kiyah perked up at that. "Not you finally about to get right? I know that’s right!"

I laughed, shaking my head. "I’m overdue."

We talked for a few more minutes, light conversation, mostly catching up the way we had been doing ever since the wedding. It was easy now—effortless even. The kind of bond that didn’t break just because time passed. Hanging up, I found myself smiling as I picked the curling iron back up to finish my hair.

----

By noon, Reggie, Mama, and I were pulling into the dealership. The sun sat high, hot against the pavement, and the lot stretched wide in front of us. I felt good walking in, knowing exactly what I came here to do. There would be no financing, no long-term payments hanging over my head. I’d saved too hard, sacrificed too much for that.

The salesman, some wiry man with a polite smile and eyes that kept darting between Reggie and Mama, gave us a quick tour of the lot. He showed us a few cars—mid-sized sedans, practical choices that didn’t excite me. Reggie inspected each one, doing that thing where he checked under the hood and nodded like he was speaking a language only he understood. Still, nothing felt right.

It wasn’t until the man led us further out that I saw it—a 2000 BMW E46 M3 in the color Laguna Seca Blue parked under the far awning like it had been waiting on me. The way the sunlight bounced off the hood, clean and smooth, caught my attention instantly. I didn’t even hesitate.

"That one," I said, pointing. My voice came out steady, certain.

The salesman’s expression lit up. "Ah, excellent choice. She’s used, but barely broken in. Good mileage."

Reggie gave it a thorough once-over, checking everything from the engine to the tires. Finally, he nodded with approval. "She’s solid. You sure?"

I smiled. "Positive."

The salesman smiled wider, already gearing up to pitch financing options. "Well, if you like, we can run some numbers and get you approved—"

I cut him off. "No need. I’m paying cash."

That shut him up quick. "Cash?"

"Cash,” I nodded.

We moved inside, the air-conditioned showroom feeling cooler than it should have. Mama and Reggie took seats beside me as I pulled my backpack onto the desk. Slowly, carefully, I unzipped it and started laying out stacks of bills—hundreds, fifties, twenties, and even a few tens. The sound of paper hitting wood echoed louder than expected.

It was then I realized how silent the room had become. Glancing up, I caught Reggie and Mama watching me—eyes wide, mouths slightly parted. Even the salesman was frozen, hands hovering over his keyboard like he forgot how to work it.

My cheeks burned. I cleared my throat, placing the last stack down.

Reggie laughed suddenly, breaking the tension. "Hell, we need to move up North Toy if that’s how they payin’ up there."

That earned a round of quiet chuckles, Mama shaking her head like she didn’t know whether to pop Reggie or ask me how I saved so much.

The car, after taxes and fees, totaled just over twelve grand. Once the money was counted and the paperwork signed, the keys were placed carefully in my hand like they might burn me if I wasn’t careful.

I stared at them, the weight of what this meant hitting me all at once. I’d done this. Me. Nobody else. The tears came before I could stop them, blurring my vision as I tried to blink them back.

Mama noticed first. She reached over, taking my face in her hands, kissing my forehead softly. "Don’t hold that in, baby. Cry if you need to. This is your moment."

Reggie patted my back, his voice warm. "I’m proud of you, girl. Real proud."

Their words should’ve settled me, but all I felt was that quiet gnawing guilt. Would they still be proud if they knew the truth? Knew what I’d really been doing these last two years to make that kind of money stack up? Some secrets weren’t meant to be shared. Not today.

I pushed it down, locked it away, and gave them both one last hug before sliding behind the wheel of my new car. They pulled off, leaving me sitting there in the driver’s seat, staring at the leather-wrapped steering wheel.

The car was perfect. Sleek, clean, the kind of purchase that made you sit up a little straighter. I ran my fingers over the dashboard, breathing in that faint smell of leather and old smoke.

But even in that moment, another memory snuck in—one I hadn’t thought about in years. Jey’s BMW. The first night I slid into that passenger seat after meeting up with him at the white house on Bend Dr. Heart racing like I was stepping into another world. That car felt like a spaceship back then. A ride that came with promises and consequences I wasn’t ready for.

And now? Now I had my own. No man attached, no strings, no regrets. This was mine—paid in full and earned. For the first time in a long time, I felt it deep—independence. To be my own woman, stand on my own two feet. Something I wish I knew the importance of three years ago, but better late than never.

----

I finally hit the road, hands gripping the wheel tighter than necessary as I pulled away from the dealership. Stopping at a gas station not too far down, I exhaled a slow breath. I had never been to that station before, and for once, I was grateful. It meant no lingering eyes, no familiar faces asking questions I didn’t feel like answering. Just me, the car, and the pump.

I paid inside, cash of course, and filled up the tank until the pump clicked. There was a small satisfaction in that—filling my own car for the first time. Another little piece of independence earned. I didn’t linger. I pulled off, easing onto the road, windows down just enough to let the spring air fill the car.

The radio played whatever the station felt like spinning—some Jagged Edge, a little Ashanti—and I let the music settle me as I made my way toward Kiyah’s apartment. She didn’t stay in the projects no more. None of us did, really. Kiyah lived in one of the new complexes about ten minutes away, and funny enough, Natasha stayed in another building on the opposite end.

Both places were still technically considered Prada Boi territory. That part didn’t surprise me. Still, I’d already decided—I’d be finding somewhere else to call home. I wasn’t trying to live that close to anything related to them. Nope.

Pulling up, I parked right out front, admiring how good the car looked sitting there like it belonged. I barely had time to cut the engine before Kiyah came flying down the steps, eyes wide with excitement.

“Oh, bitch… un uh. Not you in a Beamer!” she laughed loud, pointing as she approached. “You think you grown now, huh?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, climbing out of the car as Kiyah came around to inspect it like she worked at the dealership. “Chill, Kiyah. It ain’t even all that,” I teased, though deep down… I felt proud. I’d done that. Me.

Kiyah slid into the driver’s seat, running her hands over the wheel with a grin. “Jacob need to get me one of these for Christmas.” She laughed, pretending to drive, making car noises like a kid. I stood there shaking my head, laughing along with her, but that feeling—that small swell of pride—stayed with me.

When Kiyah finally finished her inspection, she climbed out and motioned for me to follow her upstairs. “Come on, let me show you my spot.”

The apartment was exactly what I expected—Kiyah had always had a taste for the finer things. Everything inside shimmered. Silver and crystal tones dominated the living room, plush white rugs, glass tables, and oversized white feathers sticking out of silver vases like she was expecting company any minute. It was pretty, no doubt, but too… perfect. Like one wrong move would break something.

I laughed as I looked around. “You don’t babysit them stepkids over here, huh?” I teased, arching an eyebrow.

Kiyah rolled her eyes dramatically. “Girl, please. I see them kids at Jacob’s house. Ain’t no way in hell they coming over here tearing up my shit.”

That made me chuckle harder than I should’ve. The thought of Kiyah—who barely had patience on a good day—playing stepmama to seven kids was comical. Yet, there she was… twenty-one and neck-deep in it.

I kicked off my shoes and sank into the soft silver sofa, leaning back as Kiyah disappeared into the kitchen. She came back carrying two glasses of Alizé and a bowl of popcorn, setting it down like she’d done it a hundred times. BET played in the background, videos flashing across the screen—Ludacris, Usher, the usual rotation.

We caught up for a while, reminiscing about old times, laughing until our sides hurt. I told her a little about my time away—just enough to satisfy her curiosity without opening any doors I didn’t want to walk through. Kiyah, of course, filled me in on everything I missed. She was still the same—messy, loud, always knowing everybody’s business. Some things never changed.

It was after three when the knock came. Kiyah smirked knowingly as she opened the door to reveal Natasha, looking every bit as frustrated as she did beautiful. She kicked off her heels and tossed her purse onto the dining table before flopping down right between us.

Without missing a beat, Natasha leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Hey, pooh… missed you,” she murmured, though her face said she had something heavy on her mind.

“You alright?” I asked, sitting up a little.

She sighed loud enough to fill the whole room. “Me and Sami got into it this morning. I planned this whole trip to the aquarium for us, somethin’ light, you know? But of course… Prada Boi business came up.” Her voice cracked, and I felt the weight of it.

I stayed quiet, letting her talk.

“I love him, Nye. I do,” she continued. “But it’s gettin’ harder. Sharin’ him with the streets… it ain’t easy no more. It’s gettin’ dangerous.” She glanced at Kiyah, who nodded like she already knew where this was going.

Kiyah sighed, tucking her leg under herself. “Same. I think about it all the time… losing Jacob to some bullshit.”

Their words hung in the air, heavier than anything I’d expected. I leaned forward. “What y’all mean by that? It wasn’t this bad before… not when I left.”

They exchanged a glance before Kiyah cleared her throat. “It’s bad now. That night, Nye… that night changed everything. What happened to you… it was the start.”

I swallowed hard, but I didn’t stop her.

“They got back at the dudes who did it. Every last one they could get their hands on. But it didn’t stop there. Retaliation came… and it’s been back and forth ever since.” Kiyah’s voice dropped. “It’s a war now. People dyin’, disappearin’. Left and right.”

I felt the knot settle in my stomach, twisting slow. I didn’t want to know more… but I had to. “And now?”

Natasha spoke this time, voice low. “Now? There’s a new crew. Call themselves The Hittas. They been tryin’ to take turf that belong to the Prada Bois. Jey and Jimmy? They ain’t havin’ that. Word is, they got orders—from their big cousin, Leati, who still locked up—to eliminate ‘em. All of ‘em.”

My chest tightened.

“It’s bodies droppin’, Nye. Shootouts… broad daylight. Fights breaking out almost weekly. Police can’t even keep up,” Natasha added.

I sat there, staring at the TV but not really seeing it. A part of me didn’t want to think about it, but it crept in my mind anyway.

How much blood… did Jey have on his hands now?

It was a ghost thought—one I pushed down quick.

It wasn’t my problem to solve. I’d made peace with leaving all that behind. But sitting there, listening to them… I realized real quick—

I might’ve come back home at the worst possible time.

----

We ended up ordering pizza and settling in for the rest of the afternoon, flipping through channels until we landed on some old movie neither of us was really watching. By the time the pizza arrived, it felt like we were right back in high school—three girls, half gossiping, half zoning out, just enjoying each other’s company like the world outside didn’t exist.

It was sometime after seven when I finally remembered what Kiyah had asked me earlier. I’d been so caught up in the day, in the heavy conversation, that it slipped my mind. Leaning back against the couch, I glanced over at her. “What was that you were tryin’ to ask me earlier? About next Saturday?”

Kiyah looked up from her slice, licking sauce from her fingers. “Oh… yeah. So, it’s Jacob’s son’s birthday next weekend—the one he got with Marcy.” She said the name like it tasted bitter on her tongue.

I blinked. “Oh.” That was all I could manage at first.

“I’m goin’,” Kiyah continued. “But… I wanted to know if you’d come with me. Not ‘cause it’s gonna be fun or anything, but… you know, give me something to do besides whoopin’ Marcy’s ass.”

Natasha snorted loud enough to make us both look over. “You probably gon’ end up doin’ that anyway,” she teased.

Kiyah rolled her eyes but smiled. “You know how she is. Always got somethin’ slick to say.” She turned back to me. “I just figured… maybe if you there, I won’t have to act up.”

I sat there, mulling it over longer than I probably should have. Truth was… part of me was curious. I’d heard enough about Marcy already, and a small part of me wanted to lay eyes on her myself. But that party… it came with baggage. Prada Boi baggage. And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.

Kiyah must’ve caught the way I hesitated because she shook her head. “Don’t worry. The only ones that’d show up to some Chuck E. Cheese party is Sami, Jimmy, Bronson, and maybe Zilla—the youngest one. Ain’t none of the rest gon’ show.”

I nodded slowly, but even then, I wasn’t convinced. I mean it had always been Jimmy and Jey. You could often find them together or not too far apart. Jimmy did come to the wedding alone but that was only because Jey wasn’t invited.

Kiyah shrugged. “Things different now, Nye. Shit just not the same. You’ll be alright.”

I took a breath. “I’ll let you know.”

Natasha leaned over, smirking. “You should come… just in case we gotta jump Marcy and her whole damn family.”

We all laughed at that, the tension breaking for a moment.

----

Just as the laughter settled, the front door opened, and Nataya strolled in like she had no care in the world. She did the same thing her sister did—kicked off her shoes and made a beeline straight for the kitchen. We heard the rustling of the pizza box before she reappeared, plate in hand, already chewing.

Kiyah shook her head. “Lord, Taya. As much as you eat, yo’ ass should be bigger than that.”

Nataya just grinned, mouth full of pizza. “That metabolism built different,” she mumbled.

I smiled but my eyes caught on something else—something small, but impossible to miss. The gold bracelet on Nataya’s wrist glinted under the light. She was still wearing it. I wondered, quietly, what she’d really endured with Jimmy that none of us knew about.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I asked, “Taya… how far along are you now?”

She looked up slowly, eyes full of something I couldn’t quite place. “Fifteen weeks.”

I nodded, chewing my lip, but Natasha didn’t hesitate.

“Jimmy did that shit on purpose,” she said flatly, locking eyes with me.

Nataya sighed so hard it sounded like it came from her soul. “Natasha, don’t start.”

But Natasha wasn’t stopping. “No, ‘cause I been sayin’ this. Soon as Jimmy saw you steppin’ out more, growin’ up… he trapped you. Same way they all do.”

I blinked, stunned. “You think he really…?”

Nataya opened her mouth, then closed it, eyes falling to the floor. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

That silence said more than words ever could.

Kiyah finally leaned forward. “Alright, y’all chill. I ain’t gon’ lie… part of me think he did it too. But none of that matter now. Baby’s here.”

Natasha snorted. “It matter. She still got time to do what’s right.”

The room went dead silent. That last part… we all knew what Natasha was implying, but nobody had the guts to say it out loud. Not even me.

I sat there staring at my lap, the weight of it settling heavy in my chest. Some things… some things were just too heavy to touch.

----

The mood shifted after that conversation. No matter how hard we tried, the weight of it hung there—settled into the corners of the room like smoke you couldn’t see but knew was there. Nataya stretched out on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling in silence while Kiyah and Natasha carried the conversation, voices softer now as they talked about summer plans and what was going on around the city.

I found myself on the floor beside Taya, reaching over to hold her hand without saying a word. I couldn’t claim to know what she was going through, not really, but I understood what it felt like to be weighed down by something you didn’t know how to carry. She didn’t say anything, but I could feel it—the way she squeezed my hand back. That was enough.

-----

By the time ten rolled around, I knew it was time to head home. We’d been sitting too long, letting the evening settle heavy on all of us. I stood, brushing the carpet fibers from my jeans as Kiyah followed me to the door. We hugged tightly—one of those long, lingering embraces that said more than words could.

“Let me know what you decide about next Saturday,” Kiyah said softly.

“I will,” I promised, knowing I needed time to think.

Outside, Natasha and Nataya took a moment to admire the car. They circled it once, nodding with small smiles like they couldn’t believe I really pulled it off. Funny how far we’d come. Natasha and Nataya both drove Mercedes now, while Kiyah had that Mustang she always wanted. We’d made it… in our own way. No more city buses or walking everywhere until our feet ached. We were grown now.

The drive home was quiet. The streets were mostly empty, the city settling in for the night. I was just starting to relax when my phone rang. Mama.

“Hey, baby. You mind stoppin’ by the store? I forgot a few things for dinner tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I can do that. Anything for you,” I replied.

I spotted the first grocery store still open and pulled in. The parking lot was half-empty, which was exactly how I liked it. I didn’t need any unexpected reunions tonight. Grabbing a cart, I made my way inside, the store music playing softly overhead—some old R&B song from the ’90s that made me hum along without thinking.

It felt good… normal. For once. I danced a little in the aisle as I grabbed what Mama needed—canned goods, seasonings, and whatever else caught my eye. I was almost done when I turned down the bread aisle, slowing as I debated which loaf to grab.

That’s when I heard it. A voice—deep, familiar—but I couldn’t quite place it at first. I stood still, my heart picking up pace as I strained to listen. The voice got closer, casual like whoever it belonged to was on the phone. And then it hit me… Solo.

Panic flared, quick and sharp. Of all the people, it had to be him. I glanced around, weighing my options. Leaving the cart wasn’t one of them—Mama needed these groceries, and I doubted any other store would be open this late. Still, my hands itched to run.

I cursed under my breath, scanning the aisle for an exit. If I moved quick, maybe I could slide out without him seeing me. But I didn’t know which direction he was coming from—or if he’d already seen me.

Screw it. I took a chance, pushing the cart fast down the next aisle, heart thudding in my chest like I was on Supermarket Sweep. I didn’t hear him anymore, which only made me more anxious. Where was he? Had he turned the other way?

I grabbed the last of what I needed and made my way to the front, praying to whoever was listening that the cashier would be fast. The girl behind the register looked half-asleep, scanning each item slow as molasses. I shifted my weight, glancing around like Solo might materialize any second.

“Damn, girl. How the hell I run into you?”

I froze. That voice was right behind me now.

Turning slightly, I met Solo’s eyes. He stood there, cart half-full, that same crooked grin on his face. I didn’t know whether to smile or run.

“Hey. How you been, Solo?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay even.

“I’m good. How you been?” His tone was light, almost playful.

“I’ve been alright,” I answered, placing the last of my groceries into the bag and sliding my card through. I could feel his eyes on me the whole time, and it gave me pause—not out of fear, but because I knew that look.

When I moved to leave, he stopped me with a nod. “It was good seein’ you. You look good, Nye.”

The way he said it, the way his eyes lingered—it wasn’t innocent. I’d been looked at like that many times before. I knew exactly what that look meant, but I wasn’t about to give it life.

“It was nice to see you too, Solo. Be safe… enjoy your night.” I pushed my cart toward the door without looking back.

Once I was inside my car, I sat there for a moment, staring straight ahead. My heart was racing—had been the whole damn time. I hated it. Hated how that moment felt like I was being hunted in plain sight. I couldn’t keep living like this—afraid of bumping into ghosts every time I stepped outside.

My hand drifted up without thinking, fingers brushing over the scar etched deep into the flesh of my upper arm. The skin there felt different—thicker, less like mine. A faint dip where the muscle used to be. It wasn’t big, maybe the size of a quarter, but it pulsed beneath my touch like a quiet reminder.

I remembered everything—how it felt that night. The heat. The pain. The way the bullet tore through me and left me forever altered.

No. I wasn’t doing this anymore.

That night, sitting in that car, I decided I was done running. Done hiding. The past wasn’t about to keep taking from me. Not anymore. I had a life to live, and whether the past liked it or not, I was taking my power back.

----

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 4.. (click here)

Taglist: @theusotwinzcom @nbanenefrmdao @queeny23 @punksyeet @partypoison00 @justazzi @southernpree @tian-monique @levissslutt @emotionalhottiee @blkgirlsneedlove2 @fafomama @bigjuiciisushii

[lotusloong]

How does Wukong baby trapping his fem!lover into staying with him sound for a story?

Well Planned

Relationship: NGNR!Sun Wukong X Female!Reader

AN: Hnnnnggngggg oh thank you anon for such a lovely thought, hoooo boy. Okay so, I've never written a baby trap fic before, but I have read many. I tried my best, and I hope you like, even if it's on the shorter end! I ended up going with NR!Wukong because you didn't specify which version and I just really liked the idea with him. ♥

Tags: Baby Trapping, Consensual Baby Trapping, Like...you def know it's happening, Smut, Breeding Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Daddy Kink, Cause its NR Wukong I can't not do daddy kink with him

Read it on AO3!

It starts off with you on a date, visiting a local club you and Wukong have had date nights at for years.

Wukong steps away to get you a drink, and that one moment of separation is enough for a random stranger to try and shoot his shot with you. He slides into Wukong’s seat, and you give him a glare for doing so. 

“That seat’s taken.” You practically hiss, eyes narrowed. The guy doesn’t even react, staring at your chest where the dip of your dress shows off your cleavage. You move an arm in front of your chest to purposefully block his gaze. Only your monkey is allowed to look at you like that.

The drunk glares at you, slamming his hand on the table.

“Don’t be a prude. I’m just here to say hi, you looked lonely.” You scowl at his words.

“My boyfriend was literally just here, he only stepped away to get me a drink. You can leave now.” The guy opens his mouth, perhaps to argue with you, but freezes. His face pales in color, and you notice the shadow leaning over your table. A glance over your shoulder confirms that Wukong is standing there, the wooden eyes of his mask staring directly at the stranger across from you. You look back at the guy, smiling smugly. Wukong places a drink in front of you on the table, his free hand gliding over your shoulder and neck in a possessive display you don’t intend to put a stop to.

“Everything alright, sweet peach?” He growls. If his glamor was off, you know his tail would be flicking furiously about in agitation.

“It is now, this loser was just leaving, now that my boyfriend is back.” You say pointedly. Wukong leans over the table towards the guy, his gold necklaces dangling and clinking together at the motion.

“Good, cause he’s in my seat.” He hisses. The stranger trips as he struggles to get out of the chair, crawling away on the ground before getting back up and stumbling back to his table of drunk friends. Wukong ‘tsk’s at his behavior, and you roll your eyes in agreement as he settles back into the seat across from you.

Eager to get a more romantic mood back, you take a sip of your drink, readjusting yourself so your tits are on proud display for your date as you give him a sweet smile.

“Thank you for helping me, and getting my drink.” You twirl a lock of hair with your finger to really sell the look. You can’t read Wukong’s expression under his mask, but you feel the weight of his stare as it burns into you.

“No problem sweetheart.” He says, leaning casually back in his chair.

Things pick up from there, the conversation flowing smoothly until you’re both laughing and scooting closer together, holding each other's hand on top of the table. Despite the improved mood though, you can tell the earlier encounter is still bugging your monkey. His mask keeps snapping in the direction of others as they walk past your table, as if he’s waiting for someone else to try and snatch you away from him.

You try and soothe him as best you can, but eventually you feel the need to use the restroom. You stand up, placing a kiss on the cheek of his mask as you do so.

“I’ll be right back, gonna use the restroom.” You say, and he gives a hesitant nod. You smile reassuringly and turn, moving through the crowd with practiced ease. You want to get back to him as soon as possible, to reassure him things are okay.

When you come back, it’s to a sight you’re not expecting, but a pleasant one.

The owner of the club, a wolf yaoguai under heavier glamor than your monkey, is standing next to your table, a reassuring hand on Wukong’s shoulder. You’re about to call out a hello, it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper chat with him, when his words make you pause.

“I'm just saying, there are ways to keep her with you. Lots of yaoguais still do it.” You see Wukong sigh, patting your mutual friend on the back as if thanking him.

“I know, I know, it’s still common. It just feels extreme, is all. We’ve been together for years at this point, and I’ve never had to…do anything that permanent. And you know how mortals are about having kids and asking and all that. What if it just pisses her off?” He gestures in the vague direction of the restroom, where you stand, hiding quickly behind the wall to listen in.

“Listen, you both want to have some eventually right? You’re just…jumping the timeline a little is all.”

“Well, yeah. I’ve liked the idea for ages now.” Wukong mutters, scratching at the back of his head, fluffy white fur tangling around his fingers.

“Well, there you go. No problem.”

A suspicion roots itself into your mind at their words, even as you watch the owner give Wukong another pat on the shoulder before walking off to another table. If he was suggesting what you think he was…

A spark of heat races through you, and you take deep breaths to calm yourself back down. You can’t let your boyfriend grow suspicious, especially not before you confirm your theory. You step out and settle back into your seat, smoothing your dress and smiling like you weren’t eavesdropping.

The date continues, and you both leave with full tummies, clinging to each other as you walk down the neon lit streets of Donghai. Wukong is as affectionate as always, chirping and biting at the skin of your neck as you walk. More than once he pushes you against the brick wall of different shops, his tongue in your mouth and his hips bucking against yours before pulling away, growling how you need to get home faster. You agree, holding him tight as he flies you both through the air.

When he spends the night fucking you into the mattress with no protection, mumbling about you giving daddy what he wants, your suspicions from earlier are confirmed.

~~~~~~~

You step into the open loft, your knees still weak after the night before. Wukong is in the kitchen nook, tea and coffee brewing and breakfast steaming on the stove.

“Love, did you see where my Plan B pill went?” His ear flicks in your direction, his hands stilling for just a flicker of a moment before he's moving around the kitchen like it's any normal day. 

“Nope.” He lies, popping the ‘p’ as he speaks. “It's not in the medicine cabinet?” You know for a fact it's not. 

Because you found it already, hidden at the bottom of his nightstand under books and blueprints and electric doodads. You bite your bottom lip to hide your amused grin. Your monkey is so silly. 

“No, I've looked everywhere it feels like.” Wukong glances at you over his shoulder before turning back to the eggs he's frying.

“Well, you probably don't need it. It's just one time, yeah? No big deal.” You take a seat at the kitchen table, smiling at the mini monkeys who bring you a steaming mug of tea. You hum in response, taking a sip. Raspberry floods your mouth, and you eye the box the blend came from.

Red raspberry leaf. Known for its help with fertility.

“I guess you're right. One time isn't a big deal.”

It is not one time. 

Over the coming days, every opportunity he gets, Wukong is bending you over the nearest surface to grind into your eager cunt, pumping you full constantly. You start to wonder if you even remember what being empty feels like, he's relentlessly thorough. On the second day you decided to tease him a little, to see how far he was willing to go to make sure you were truly knocked up.

“I'm gonna run to the nearby mart to pick up some Plan B, I'm starting to get a little worried…” You pouted to really sell the act. Wukong's strong arms wrapped around your middle from behind, his hot breath in your ear as he nipped your skin. 

“Looking like that? So pretty…one quickie before you head out? Please sweet peach?” You gave a fond roll of your eyes. You were wearing sweatpants, the goof. Still, the hardness pressing against the meat of your ass was proof he wasn't really lying. You grind back against him, craning your neck to give him better access to the sensitive skin there. 

“Well, okay…a quick one wouldn't hurt…” You moan. It's not like you were actually planning on buying anything. 

One round turned into multiple, ending hours later with you fucked dumb on your mate’s lap as he reclined on the sofa. Your hips stutter to a stop after your most recent orgasm, tears streaming down your cheeks as you pant. Your cunt is swollen and puffy where it stretches around Wukong's fat cock, leaking your combined fluids over his heavy ball sack. They're still so full, and you can't even remember your name anymore. His fingers grip your jaw, bringing your lips to his in a forceful kiss. 

His tongue bullies its way into your mouth, and like a whore you moan and clench down harder on his dick. He pulls away, thick strands of drool bridging between your lips before snapping. 

“Good girl, think you can go for another?” He growls. His hands go to your hips, gripping the flesh tight and moving you in small little circles, grinding you against him. You give a broken moan, pushing your face into the warmth of his neck. 

“Don’t worry, daddy’s got you sweet peach. Just sit back and relax, you just need to focus on getting knocked up for me.” He mumbles, moving your hips up and down for you. Your eyes snap open at his words, before fluttering closed in bliss. His cock rubs against that sweet spot in your gummy walls, cum leaking out with every bounce. Wukong clearly isn’t aware of what he’s let slip, or he simply doesn’t care about keeping it a secret any longer.

His fur tickles your nose as you whimper his name, the thought of being round and full with his little ones sending liquid fire pooling low in your gut. 

“Please…” You whisper against his ear, and are rewarded with a hard thrust up against you. You keen, back arching as you try to rock your exhausted hips in time with his. His head lowers to your chest, teeth nipping at your tits before taking one into his warm, wet mouth and suckling like you’ll actually give milk. It has you shuddering, your hands tangling in the thick mane of white fur on his head, holding him closer to you as you rock back and forth.

Despite your exhaustion, his clever hands and mouth manage to wring another orgasm out of you, and you all but collapse on top of him. After catching his own breath, Wukong simply makes sure your legs and arms are secure around him before standing. With hardly any effort he floats the two of you up to the loft where your bedroom is, crawling onto your soft mattress and laying you down. Limbs feeling like noodles, you let him go when he pulls away, and hiss at the feeling of his soft cock leaving your abused pussy.

Wukong grips your thighs, pushing your knees up and open so he can see you properly. You’re too tired to even feel embarrassed as he watches your cunt, his thumbs hooking into your swollen lips and pulling them apart. Your muscles are still twitching and spasming around nothing, globs of thick cum leaking out to drip down the curve of your ass.

“Hmm. Yeah, that should do it.” Wukong mutters. He pulls away and lets your legs fall closed, heading off to your shared bathroom. He returns moments later with a warm wet rag, and dutifully wipes you clean of - most - of his mess. He takes a moment to wipe the worst of your combined fluids from his own fur before tossing the rag somewhere on the floor to clean up later. He joins you in bed, throwing the covers over the two of you and tucking your head into his chest. You fall asleep to the rhythmic thumping of his heart.

Two weeks later, he kisses you happily when you reveal the ‘surprising’ news that you’re expecting.

[angelhao]

ค( ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﻌ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ )ค woozi - my r♡ckstar boyfriend

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ྀི◟ pairings : idol!woozi - nonidol!fem reader ◞ ⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ㅤ۫⠀⠀ ꪆ specially made for @lavoilee , our precious birthday girl ୧ㅤ۪ ㅤ۫

Rin's notepad ⠀♪ ⠀ ; happy birthday to our special girl - @lavoilee ! Uh sorry if this doesn't meet your expectations on how the ff was supposed to be . My braincells are lacking rn so . . Anyways - enjoy reading this for your delulu ass !! 💮 (it has a surprise towards the end . . )

˚　　　　 ㅤ͏͏͏͏͏ 12 AM - midnight 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙

It's 12 AM , your waiting for woozi to come home from the studio. You were growing sleepy while waiting for him but you were determined that you want to spend the first minutes of your birthday with him . You sigh , putting your head on the table . Suddenly a knock startles you . You quickly put your glasses back on before walking to the door. You open it to find woozi - holding a huge bouquet of roses.

Your eyes widen in shock at the roses , he's never given you something like this for your birthday -

"Surprised , baby?" Woozi smiles at you softly, you laugh softly and hug him.

"God , how much did you spend on these?!" You look up at him. He smiles and leans down - pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I never reveal the prices of birthday presents , especially not special ones." He rests his chin above your head , sighing softly.

"Did you wait too long..?" He asks gently , caressing your hair.

You shake your head , closing your eyes as your head rests on his chest.

"Are you sleepy?" He chuckles softly.

"Kinda.." You smile sleepily. He notices and keeps the roses aside -

"Then let's get you to sleep..it's a long day tomorrow baby." He holds your hands and leads you to your shared bedroom.

The next morning ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✿﮾᳜⡴⠀

You wake up at 10 AM , yawning and stretching. You look around and notice that woozi isn't in bed . Curious - you get out of bed and put on your glasses along with your slippers. You quickly fix your hair ( so that you don't look like a grizzly bear. ) Before walking to the kitchen.

You notice woozi standing by the stove , making pancakes for you - he had a recipe open on his phone. He hears your footsteps so he turns around - "Oh, your awake baby." He smiles slightly.

You smile back , stepping closer and hugging him tightly. Looking over to see the pancakes.

"Those look...burnt." You laugh softly.

He frowns "I'm trying to make them perfect.."

You smile and pull away , throwing the burnt pancakes away before making fresh new ones.

Woozi pouts -

"Hey!! I was supposed to make them for you.." He protests.

You laugh and look at him.

"Hey , who's the birthday girl ? I am. So shh!!" You put a piece of pancake into his mouth , patting his head.

He can't help but smile softly as he eats.

"Fine.." He mutters with stuffed cheeks. You smile wider at the sight and kiss his cheeks before sitting down to eat with him.

Throughout breakfast , you keep noticing him looking at you with heart eyes - and everytime you point it out . He shakes his head and smiles . Telling you it's 'nothing'.

Later that day - you were sitting in your room , playing some games with your friends when he knocks softly before coming in. You look up from your phone and smile widely.

"Hey woo , what's up?" You keep your phone aside. He smiles and walks to you , sitting down beside you before kissing your cheek lovingly.

"I have a surprise for you..but , you need to change your clothes for it.." He smiles softly.

You laugh softly.

"Let me guess - aquarium date?"

He shakes his head.

"Even better . Hey put on your prettiest dress , and then..you'll find out." He winks before going out ( fake ass wink )

You two left the house - hand in hand. He's taking you somewhere in his car but you don't know where , the place isn't familiar.

He notices you looking outside the window and laughs.

"You look like a child."

"A cute one right?" - you reply back.

He nods before parking the car in the parks lot and stepping out. He walks to your side of the car and opens the door like a gentlemen.

"Come on."

You get out and hold his hand as he leads you into the park. You look around , noticing the gorgeous fairy lights on the path.

He leads you to a private corner - where he decorated it with roses , chocolates and a massive cake.

You gasp softly - your eyes widening with shock and tears of happiness.

"W-...woozi what is this?" You look at him.

He smiles shyly ( he's shy about surprises ) , he steps closer and gently wraps an arm around your waist.

"Happy birthday , baby."

You smile widely and hug him tightly , laughing softly.

"I love you..so much woo." You wipe your tears away.

He smiles and gently makes you sit down on the plush blanket he placed. Kissing your forehead.

"Eat up. There's more surprises tonight waiting for you.." He gently feeds you. Occasionally kissing your forehead or cheeks.

You both were packing up to leave. Until suddenly - he turned to look at you.

"Hey..uh , baby?" He smiles nervously and shyly.

You turn around to look at him , confused.

"Yeah?"

He smiled even more shyly , his ears going red as he reaches into his pocket to remove a small box.

"There's..one more surprise left , baby."

You watch , confused and dumbfounded.

"Woo..what?"

He gently gets onto one knee ( oh my! ) , opening the box to reveal a gorgeous silver ring with a heart shaped diamond.

"I've always wanted to do this , but I never knew when and how - but now..I feel like it's the right moment to truly make you mine. Baby , please tell me truthfully...will you marry me?" He looks up at you , his eyes shining with love.

You freeze , your heart pounding. You look at him and then the ring. Your heart overfilling with love and joy - your eyes filling with tears.

"Woozi i-...obviously I'll marry you!!" You laugh softly and hug him tightly.

He sighs in relief and hugs you back.

"God..I love you , baby."

˚　　　　 ㅤ͏͏͏͏͏⠀⠀⠀⠀˚⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ूूूੂ⠀⠀⠀. 　　　 .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅.　　. 　 

（''ᴗ‸ᴗ）☆ rin's notepad : oh ! Wow , you two got married blah blah . Well uh , this was so long and my brain malfuntioned half way through so please dont mind any errors . I hope this made you smile / cleared your delulu ass mind . 月 (my fingers hurt.)

[beef-brisket]

Lucifer chuckled and dumped the mask on the floor: Why do you wear that thing horrid thing, anyway?

The first man tried readjusting himself in his seat. He couldn't help but groan when he felt how heavy he was.

Adam: It's... just a protection thing. Can't have the scum know who I am-.

Lucifer chuckled: Oh, Adam. You don't expect me to believe that, do you? You wear it all the time! More than necessary, anyway.

The first man glared at the king: Just... don't worry about it- we've got other things to worry about right now, asshole!

Ignoring him, Lucifer moved, so he's standing between Adam's legs and cupped his stomach. The king couldn't he'll bug smile when he felt thir child or children move.

Lucifer: This is a good look on you, darling. This definitely won't be the last time, hm?

Adam whimpered as he grew again, he spreading his legs wider to make room not only for him and the baby but Lucifer as well.

Adam: L-Lu, make it stop- p-please.

Lucifer: Stop? Now, why would I want to do that?

Adam: I-I hurts, it's m-moving- fucking- my hips killing me.

When Adam moves again, he froze when his seat groaned: T-The fuck?

Lucifer laughed: Oh dear, getting too heavy, darling? Come on, let's get you up, yes?

Adam's eyes widened when Lucifer grabbed his arms: W-Wait- Lu! I don't think I can-!

Lucifer: Of course you can! You're Adam, remember~?

His hips, back, and legs burned as Lucifer pulled him to his feet. Adam quickly reached out to grip the table and Lucifer's shoulder as whatever was inside him grew.

Adam: F-fuuck- Lucifer- I-I need to get out of here. I-If Sera or Lute-.

Lucifer: Oh, stop worrying! Besides! If they see now, it'll get the awkwardness out of the way! Surely, they're suspicious about how often you come down here for "meetings"~.

When Adam was silent and avoided his eyes, Lucifer laughed, making the first man flinch.

Lucifer: I-I can't believe it! Are you telling me that you've told NO ONE about these meetings?!

Adam: ...I'd get in trouble, alright?! Fuck- you're the freak here, not me!

Before Lucifer could answer again, he glared at Adam as the man digs his nails into his skin. The kimg was about to pry him off, but he could tell by hos expression that he was uncomfortable again.

Lucifer: Again? My, you're getting big, aren't you? I'm sure, deep down, you're enjoying this~.

Adam: F-Fuck off! This shit hurts- asshole!

Lucifer: Oh, dear... well, how about... I take your mind off it, hm~?

The first man blushed when Lucifer's arms snaked sound and gripped his ass, giving it a squeeze.

Adam: T-That's what got me in this shit!

Lucifer: Don't be dramatic! Now, hop on the table. It's probably the only thing strong enough to hold you at this point~.

The kimg chuckled at Adam's expression before he helped him shuffle back and sit on the large meeting table.

Adam: If we're doing this- you get that fucking thing away from me!

Lucifer smirked and lifted Adam's robe enough to go inside: My, you are big~.

Adam: No shit... motherfucker...

Another fertility statue idea! I'm weak for it. What can I say? 😝

Adam and Lucifer fucking during every meeting, until Lucifer gets an idea of how to keep Adam with him. He's sick of watching Adam leave after every fuck session, so he comes up with a plan.

Before a meeting starts, Lucifer places a statue under the meeting table. And as the king fucks Adam on said table, he waves his hand, activating the statue.

Adam: Alright, later bitch!

Lucifer smirked as Adam disappeared. It won't be long till he's back down here.

This is another rapid pregnancy one, obviously 😝

I just need more of Adam being pregnant in Heaven.

Of course, he's not up there long until he storms his way back into the meeting room, Lucifer's sitting there with a shit eating grin on his face.

Fucker knows what he's done, and his plan just worked.

Too bad for Adam, having a demonic child is enough to corrupt him and force him to fall 😝👀

Love it!

-

Lucifer was going to make sure his plan worked, all he had to do was hide the statue of fertility and then fuck Adam.

Sounds easy.

They've been having regular sex during meetings and Lucifer...... Sorta kinda caught feelings for Adam.

Again.

We don't talk about the first time.

Adam appeared and sat in the meeting chair like he always did.

Adam: So, is this a real meeting or a fake one where we fuck for most of the time?

Lucifer: You tell me.~

He removed Adam's helmet and pulled the first man down into a kiss. And that kiss was like Something set Adam's insides on fire.

They moaned into the kiss and Lucifer tried not to smirk at how needy Adam was already.

[sarah-cam]

spoiler from tsitp set 🤭 someone took a photo of lola on set wearing THE oversized red pjs from THE christmas 2.0 chapter and they also saw Chris on set that day - so we are getting that xmas scene for sure.

i did see that!! chris was looking 🧑🏻‍🍳💋🤌🏼

[timothyslucy]

i know we never got to see it for either angela or nyla when they had their babies, but i've always had this headcanon that whenever someone at mid-wilshire welcomes a new member into their family grey starts roll call with a picture of their little one, along with the standard criteria next to it, ya know, height/weight/length/etc. and then everyone does a drumroll at their tables as he does a dramatic name reveal, and i just hope that one day in the future we'll actually get to see him do so for tim and lucy. it would be so cute. 🥹🫶