#will shaw fic

[captainsy-cookiemonster]

Welcome Home

Prompt: Okay! You gonna love this A sandwich.... between....*drum rolls* Mike and Touch Starved!Will … They both brothers, and Mike is a horn dog, while after 3 month parted Will needs a hard release after a stressful business agenda😘😘

Summary: while your one roommate is away, things get steamy with your other roommate. it just so happens that the roommate who was gone comes back while you’re fooling around with the other one. this is fun.

Pairing: bi!Mikey x unnamed OFC x bi!Will Shaw

Warnings: dom x switch x switch, f2l, threeway, p in v sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, cumming inside (on, uhh both ends), grinding, little bit of degradation, implication that Mikey came in his pants while OFC was grinding on him once, my first time writing a threeway, me picking up a wip after moooonths and a very draining semester, hints at a possible polyamorous relationship?, rules of physics? is this even possible? we don’t ask these kinds of questions here sir, the female character is not described beyond having “grip-able” hair however you want to define it, for the sake of not being called inclusive enough for a reader i chose to make her an unspecified OFC

Names used: bunny, good girl, sweetheart, slut, good boy (Mikey), sir (Will)

A/N: I hope you don’t mind that I changed your prompt a little bit. I didn’t really feel comfortable writing them as brothers, so I made them all roommates. Thank you so much @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @littlefreya and @luna-aestas for helping me when i got stuck or felt it sucked. You girls are amazing ❤️ not beta'd much. Typos we're going down swingin'!

Word count: ca 4k

Title: Welcome Home

Writers live off validation. If you liked it please like, comment and reblog 💕 thank you for reading 💖

It started as roommates. As a guy in his junior year, with friends mostly in higher semesters, Will was suddenly left with an empty apartment and a rent that was far too high to handle all by himself. 

That’s when I came into play, a little freshman who happened to not have gotten a dorm room on campus. It was especially convenient since I got a job at the little café just across the street once I was accepted into college. The wage was just enough for rent and food and I was lucky my parents still supported me.

A few weeks into the semester, another boy joined our little arrangement. Mikey was trouble, which, in a way, was good because that meant he was rarely home. He was always out partying, slept during the day, and missed most of his courses. But at least that meant it was quiet when Will and I  had to study or do homework.

That was two years ago. The three of us have become close friends, almost like family. The boys grew protective of their little barista, who would bring them their favorite coffee whenever I came home. They were almost like big brothers. Well… Almost.

Will has finished his bachelor’s by now and is currently building his own startup, while part time working on his master's program.  So he’s still living in the apartment with the two of us.

Well actually… not right now. He had to go away for three months. Something to do with his business, I can’t really remember. 

Three months alone with Mikey have been... interesting, to say the least. And fun. Lots of fun. Take that however you want.

Right now, we're lounging on the couch, watching some silly movie. I couldn't tell the name even with a gun to my head. It’s late, and Mikey's soft, but progressively more daring caress is using up all the focus I can muster. His hand snuck into my shorts and is squeezing my buttcheek. I bite my lip to stifle a whimper and press my thighs together. He does it again, drawing the same reaction from me; except this time, I bury my face into his chest. I can practically feel his smirk and look up to glare at him. I don’t even meet his eyes before his lips catch mine in a sloppy kiss. 

In a scramble of arms and legs, he pulls me to straddle his lap, his hands kneading my ass while mine paw at his chest and neck, tug at his hair, and grip his shoulders. It’s messy. It’s clumsy. It’s desperate. I want more. I need it. I need to be closer, need to feel him everywhere. 

I start grinding my hips into his crotch, feeling him grow. His hands on my hips urge me on, but instead of speeding up, I slow down. Giggling and out of breath, I break the kiss.

“Nuh-uh, remember last time? Not gonna happen again.”

Mikey huffs and rolls his eyes. “That was one time!”

Laughing, I shake my head and lean down to kiss him again. His hands are everywhere, on my ass, my hips, then sliding up my back underneath my shirt. With skilled fingers, he unclasps my bra, pulling the straps off my arms. As it falls between us, I take it and blindly throw it into the room behind us. Faintly, I hear it hitting the floor before my attention focuses on Mikey’s hands sliding up my tummy and letting his thumbs brush over that spot on my ribs. 

I gasp and grind my hips down harder, making him chuckle. In response, I capture his bottom lip between my teeth, tugging and sucking on it a little before releasing it. Can’t have the boy think he’s got the upper hand in this.

But he still thinks he does. His hands find my tits, and the triumphant grin on his face…

“Oh! Your nipples are hard! Is this turning you on, baby?”

Ugh! That boy! 

“No, Mikey. Obviously not.” I roll my eyes and snort. “And what about you? I’m sure you find it absolutely terrible to have me grinding in your lap, hm? As hard as your cock is.”

“Hatin’ it.” He grins and pinches my nipples. “You know what I’d like better?” He leans in, his breath hot against my neck. “If the two of us got naked.”

“Hm, yeah… Now that you’re saying it… that does sound like a good idea.”

Scrambling to my feet, I’m quick to slide down my jogging shorts. I’m about to take off my shirt, when Mikey gets up and stands right in front of me… Entirely naked. Damn, he’s quick!

“Lemme do it?”

I just nod, lifting my arms to assist him, but of course, he takes his sweet time, letting the tips of his fingers glide up my skin underneath the fabric. Of course, he has to squeeze my tits when he reaches them, but he lifts the shirt over my face too quickly for me to glare at him. It doesn’t stop me from trying, though. Once the shirt is off my body and Mikey sees my face, he can’t suppress a chuckle and quickly kisses the tip of my nose to make the glare disappear. To his credit, it works. A hot flush gathers in my cheeks, and I quickly turn around, searching the room for… Damn.

“Be right back,” I tell Mikey over my shoulder, taking off my panties to toss at him, but I’ve already dashed through the door before I know if I hit him or not.

Not even a minute later, I come back to the living room, finding Mikey still where I had left him, with my panties in his hands, grinning to himself, most likely proud of himself for getting me to soak them that much.

“What do you want with that?” he asks once he notices I’m back, eyes on the towel in my hand.

“Well… I thought that Will would appreciate it if he didn’t come home to cum stains on the couch.” I shrug.

“Ohhh, yeah… Probably.”

He takes the towel from my hand and puts it down on the couch, then sits down on it. Mikey pats his thighs, signaling for me to sit, but I look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh!” He grins sheepishly, realizing what I’m looking at and quickly tosses my panties to the floor. He doesn’t even manage to pat his lap again before I climb on top of him. With one hand on my hip, the other on my neck, Mikey pulls me closer until my lips meet his, and the length of his cock rubs against my pussy.

I start to grind my hips into him, throwing my head back at the friction. I feel Mikey’s breath heavy on my neck, then his soft lips on my tender skin. His hands grip me tighter as I move on his cock, pulling my hips deeper into him. By now, the hand he had on my neck has wandered to the back of my head, tugging at my hair to keep my throat exposed to his kisses. I’m sure my neck will be covered in hickeys tomorrow. There’ll be bruises on my hip, too. Fuck! The thought of carrying his marks makes me even wetter. 

“Bunny, I need you,” Mikey pants against my neck. I nod, and he lets me go, so I can sit up. He grips his cock to guide himself in as I hover above his lap, steadying myself with my hands on his shoulders.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Just a second.”

Oh… yeah… Mikey and tits, how could I forget? With my chest on eye level, of course Mikey has to bury his face into it, peppering kisses all over my boobs, sucking and biting at my nipples until I’m a whimpering mess, swaying my hips in the search for friction, inches away from his cock.

“Okay, ready.” He grins, his free hand coming up to my hip to help me ease down on him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! No matter how many times we do it, I’ll never get used to his size. The delicious stretch of being seated on him all the way has me panting.

“Good girl.”

“Mhh.”

For a moment, I just sit there, resting my head against his shoulder while feeling him pulse inside me. I smile against his skin when he begins to gently stroke my back. His hands shift down to my waist when I start to roll my hips slowly. He squeezes my hips, making me lift up and brace myself on his shoulders. 

Gasping, I relish in the feeling of his cock stroking every spot inside me. I go faster. Harder. His hands shift even lower, grabbing at my butt and guiding my movements. 

"Fuck," we sigh in unison, before breaking in a fit of giggles. With heaving breath, I smile at him, wiping a strand of sweaty hair from his brow before cradling the back of his head in my hands, leaning in to kiss him. He kisses back instantly, tongue swiping along my lower lip to request entrance. Opening my mouth for him, I let his tongue explore my mouth, sucking on it and trying to fight for dominance. We both moan into the kiss, the movement of our hips growing more sloppy, rushed.

"Hey, uh… Oh."

We jump at the familiar voice. Wide-eyed, we turn towards the door, where we find a very flustered looking Will. The thud of his bag hitting the floor makes my eyes snap to his hand that dropped it, then the prominent bulge in the front of his jeans. Once my eyes find his face again, I can spot the hint of a smirk playing around his lips.

"Uhm." Mikey's voice is a little shaky. I feel him twitch inside me. I look back at him, raising my eyebrows in question. He gives me a nod and grinning, I nod back. 

"Will! C'mere." I turn towards him and gesture for him to come closer. He hesitates for a moment before finally taking determined steps towards Mikey and me. 

Standing in front of us, Will leans down to meet my face. his hand reaches up to caress my cheek and I lean into it, missing the gentle touch when his hand wanders down. I gasp when I feel his fingers lightly squeezing my throat, my eyes fluttering shut when he gets even closer. His kiss is still rougher than expected, his tongue claiming dominance right away. I feel myself clenching around Mikey’s cock, a new wave of wetness soaking his lap. Will breaks the kiss way too soon. I try to chase his lips as he pulls back, but he keeps my head in place with his hand around my throat. Smiling while I pout at him, he turns to Mikey.

“Has she been good?”

I feel Mikey shuffle to sit up straighter. A moment passes before he can answer, stunned and with his mouth hanging open slightly. “Yes.” Another moment before he adds an uncertain “...sir?”

Will just nods before finally sitting down right next to Mikey. “You’re gonna be a good girl for me too?”

All I can do is bite my lip and nod. As a reward he grabs my neck again and pulls me in for another deep kiss that leaves me breathless.

Feeling Mikey’s cock twitch inside me, I start grinding on him again. Hot breath against my ear and suddenly there is a pair of lips sucking on my neck. I whimper against Will’s lips when Mikey starts to graze his teeth over the sensitive skin below my ear.

Once Will allows me a moment to breathe again, I kiss my way down to his neck. It’s so much rougher than Mikey’s, the well grown out stubble leaves my lips tingling. I feel him turning his head and his Adam's apple bob against my kiss. At first I think it was to give me better access, but from above me I hear the unmistakable sound of a hesitant but needy kiss. 

Are they- ? Oh fuck, why is that so hot?

Mikey must have felt me squeezing around him because a moment later his hand that was still on my body pushes me to adjust on his cock by the small of my back, nudging against that spot, making me gasp. Being so focused on the changed sensation inside of me, I haven’t even noticed how my nails have started to dig into Will’s chest, until I hear his groan. It wasn’t a pained groan, more like he was enjoying it. Maybe even a little too much. I took that for a sign to take the next step and while he and Mikey are still making out, I start to unbutton Will’s shirt, kissing and nibbling at every inch of skin I uncovered, making sure to scrape my nails down his chest as I go. The lower I go, the more he tangles his fingers into my hair, pushing me further. Once I reach the waistline of his jeans, nuzzle my nose against the thick hair of his happy trail and look up at him with big eyes.

“Can I?” I ask, with my hands on his thighs, close to his crotch.

“Can you what? C’mon, be a good girl. Use your words.”

Wow, those three months really changed him.

I swallow a little nervously and nod before I try again. “Can I take your cock out? I wanna taste it.”

Waiting for an answer, I watch as Mikey sucks on the side of Will’s neck, making him throw his head back and groan.

“Please… sir?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, you can.”

With eager fingers I unbutton his jeans and fumble a little before I manage to pull down the zipper. Already starting to drool with anticipation, I tug at his boxers. He lifts his hips to help me and finally I’m met with the sight of his hard cock springing free.

He is a bit thicker than Mikey, but they’re about the same length. Taking hold of him, I give the head a gentle little kiss before sticking out my tongue to collect the small drop of pre cum leaking from the tip.

“Mmm, good girl,” Will hums and strokes my hair. “Suck on it, c’mon.”

I nod before I take him in my mouth, just the head, suckling on it and toying with it a little with my tongue.

The moan that comes out of his mouth… I’ve never heard anything sexier. It has me squeezing around Mikey unconsciously. 

“Fuuuuuck,” I hear him mutter into Will’s neck. 

The wave of confidence that washes over me at the fact I’m pleasuring not one but two men makes me take Will deeper into my mouth. I hollow my cheeks and press my tongue against the underside of his cock, slowly taking more of him. As I keep bobbing my head up and down his grip on my hair becomes tighter and more and more moans fall from his mouth .

The tingling sensation that spreads through my body from that makes me try to take him even deeper, until I start gagging and my eyes begin to water. By now, my nose is pressing into his hip.

“I can’t… I can’t!” I suddenly hear Mikey wheeze. Will immediately lets go of my hair and I hurry to get off Mikey’s lap.

“What is it?” 

I’m stunned at how calmly Will asks that while I’m staring at a panting Mikey, almost panicking.

“I fucking need…” he wheeses again. Both Will and I stare at him, anxiously waiting for him to continue. “... to get off!” 

I let out a sigh of relief, watching Will chuckle and playfully nudge Mikey with his elbow. The younger man smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head.

“I was serious about it, though. So-” he drags out the word “- can we like… get started?”

 I nod slowly, feeling their eyes on me, and look towards Will for guidance.

“How do you want to do this?” He asks me gently, and I shrug, unsure. “Okay then, c'mere.”

While I get closer, he stands up and rearranges the towel so it covers most of the couch and drapes over the armrest, causing Mikey to jump up as well.

“Now, can you get on your hands and knees for us?” Will nearly coos, still it feels like he’s giving no room for discussion. “Isn’t she such a good girl for us?” I can hear him ask Mikey, now behind my back, and I can only imagine Mikey nodding while giving Will puppy dog eyes. “And you? You’re gonna be a good boy for us and let her suck you off.” Again, no room for discussion.

I shuffle closer to the couch's armrest, balancing my weight on my elbows on it, and give Mikey a reassuring nod. He swallows a little nervously, looking at Will, who's getting into position behind me. I lean forward to give Mike a small kiss to his hip bone, then nuzzle my face against the base of his cock. He cups my cheek with one hand, stroking his thumb across my bottom lip when I lean into him, while his other hand grips the base of his cock. I open my lips a bit and suckle on the tip of his thumb as he gently brings my face and himself into position. He pulls his finger from my mouth and I open my lips wider, giving the tip of his cock a little lick, looking up at him through my lashes to see his reaction. He groans and throws his head back. That’s when I take the head in my mouth and start playing with it with my tongue.

Behind me, Will puts a hand on my hip to hold me steady, with the other, he grabs is cock and swipes it up and down on my lips, coating himself in my juices.

“Fuck, you’re so wet!” He groans and pushes in a little. I let out a moan around Mikey’s cock, making him shiver in response. Will slowly keeps pushing in, a deep moan escaping him once he bottoms out. I can only whimper around Mikey’s cock, feeling so full already. 

“Now just stay still, baby, we’ve got you,” Will says, if a little bit strained. I nod as much as I can and look up at Mikey, who’s still holding my face. He pushes himself a little bit deeper into my mouth. I can still taste myself on him as I suck. Will starts moving, thrusting in a slow and steady rhythm, pushing me down on Mikey’s cock with every time his hips meet mine. Again, I moan around Mikey, whose hands start wandering to my hair and grips it to push himself further down my throat. My eyes begin to water when Will picks up the pace, making me take Mikey even deeper. The room is filled with the beautifully filthy sounds of the two men groaning in erotic harmony, skin slapping on skin and my strangled moans as I gag around Mikey’s cock.

“You’re being so good, bunny,” Mikey praises, breathing heavily. “So good for us,” Will adds. “Letting us use you like a little slut.” I can’t help but whimper at that, squeezing around Will’s cock. 

“Oh? Did you like that?” Will leans down closer to my ear, whispering, “You like it when I call you slut?” I nod as much as I can with Mikey in my mouth. “You’re so filthy. Nothing more than a toy for us to use.”

He fucks me harder, making me whimper and take Mikey even deeper. Tears are beginning to stream down my face, but it all feels so good. I can’t help but clench around him, the coil in my belly starting to tighten. 

So it takes me by surprise when Will suddenly slows to a stop. A little out of breath he says, “This isn’t it. Let’s take this to the bedroom.” 

Mikey nods, pulling from my mouth and Will picks me up, carrying me over to the bedrooms. My mind is far too lazy to see whose bedroom we end up in when Will tosses me onto the bed with a bounce.

“Let your head hang over the edge. Yes, just like this, good girl.”

I watch upside down as Mikey kneels down by my head, positioning himself. I open my mouth widely, obediently and he pushes his cock back into my mouth. Closing my eyes, I start sucking on him again as Will climbs up over me, kneels on the bed and grabs my thighs. He doesn’t make me wait long and thrusts back in in one smooth movement. I moan loudly around Mikey’s cock when he bottoms out, finally feeling full again. Complete, in a sense.

Before he begins to thrust, though, he pulls my hips up onto his legs, making me arch my back and take Mikey deeper down my throat. All three of us moan in sinful harmony, skin slapping and wet slurping composing a filthy melody of bliss. With the new angle, I can feel the burning coil tightening faster as the tip of Will’s cock strokes all the spots perfectly, the base of him rubbing against my clit. My moans rise in pitch, even muffled by Mikey fucking my face. His hips begin to stutter, he’s close as well. Will, of course, notices that and picks up his pace, fucking me faster.

Fuck! This feels so good!

Mikey’s groans mix with little gasps as I feel him twitch. He’s close, I can tell. I use my tongue to play with him, eliciting little whimpers from him.

“S-sir, ‘m so close… can I cum? Please?” Mikey begs between little gasps and whines.

“Go a-head,” Will tells him, his own voice strained as well. I brace myself, sucking Mikey harder. A few more thrusts into my mouth and he stills, whimpering loudly as his warm load hits my tongue. I swallow it down eagerly, but gasp when he pulls out of my mouth. I take a few deep breaths as I watch him stand and jerk himself, another, smaller load landing on my chest.

“Fuuuck,” he groans.

“Good boy,” Will praises him, doubling his efforts now, fucking me even harder. His hand comes up to my chest, grabbing and kneading my tits for a moment before swiping two fingers through Mike’s cum and bringing those fingers down to my clit, drawing slow but firm circles around the little bud. I cry out, clenching hard around him. The coil keeps growing tighter until it… Snaps. With a high pitched moan, I fall over the edge, white hot bliss carrying me as my body writhes in pleasure. Through a haze I can hear Will groan and feel a warmth spreading inside me. I open up my eyes to see him hovering above me, dipping his head down to meet my lips in a passionate kiss. I kiss him back eagerly, letting our tongues fight for dominance until we need to stop for air. Will sits up again, reaches out an arm and pulls in Mikey for a just as passionate kiss. I watch them, a satiated smile on my face. I get up on my knees, squeezing between them to kiss their necks and chests alternately. Once the part, the three of us collapse on the bed naked and panting, a tangled mess of limbs. 

“You know…” Mikey breathes heavily, “we were going to throw you a welcome home partly…”

Will chuckles at that, “You still could…”

I just shake my head, giggling. “Let’s just order pizza.��

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (10/?)

Part Summary: “Leigh, are you jealous?” you ask, taking a deliberate step towards her. You hold her captive with your eyes, making it impossible for Leigh to look away.

“I’m with Danny.” Her voice cracks as she takes a step back.

“That’s not an answer,” you whisper softly, closing the distance between you again.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.200+ | Warnings: UST, fluff, very light angst | Author's note: I think the summary should tell you what to expect *winks*.

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX

-

Despite going to bed very late, getting up in the morning isn't hard for you. Though it’s mainly because you barely had any rest at all. The real reason you couldn't sleep wasn’t the couch’s fault—it was the soft, irregular snores drifting in from the bedroom and the new, quiet awareness of someone else in your apartment. Every so often, Leigh would make a sound or shift in her sleep, and you would clench your fist hard against the blanket, resisting the urge to go check on her. 

The stillness of the early dawn settles around you, and Leigh’s words come back to you like a quiet sail. “Do you know how intimate it is to sleep at someone’s house and not have sex?” she had said once, during one of your long, winding confrontations about Matt. It was a statement that had deeply affected you then, and even more so now, with her just a room away. You remember recoiling when she nearly spat the words at you. You wonder if Leigh also remembers, especially considering last night.

You rise from the couch before your alarm has a chance to ring, padding softly into the kitchen. 

Cooking breakfast has become a kind of ritual, an act of service between the two of you. Smiling at this thought, you crack eggs into a bowl, add milk and vanilla, and start whisking. You soak slices of bread in the mixture, heat up the pan, and place them down to cook. French toast is on the menu today, and you hope Leigh likes it.

You set the table quietly, arranging the plates and cutlery, pouring orange juice into glasses. As you lay down the last slice of French toast on the plates, you add a light dusting of powdered sugar and a few slices of fresh strawberries for a pop of color and sweetness. With everything prepared, you sit down at the dining table to wait for Leigh to wake up.

After a while you glance at the clock and see it's 6:30 AM. You need to be at the clinic in an hour. With a sigh, you cover Leigh's plate with a napkin to keep it warm and start eating alone, just as you've done since moving here.

Finishing your breakfast, you wash the dishes and put everything away, your movements mechanical. You know you should get in the shower soon, but everything you'll need to prepare is in the bedroom. Pushing the door open just a crack, you peek inside to see Leigh sleeping peacefully, her face so different from its usual, more troubled visage when awake. She’s lying on her back with her mouth slightly open. The sheets have slipped past her hips, and her shirt has ridden up, exposing her stomach to the cool air. You tiptoe into the room and carefully pull the covers back up over her, tucking them around her gently.

Afterward, you crouch by the bed for a minute, simply observing her steady breathing. You feel a surge of affection as you watch her, wondering if she feels safe here, with you. Her face, relaxed and unguarded, is the very same one that Matt woke up to every day of his life for the past decade until he left this world. You think to yourself what a privilege it was for him, to have shared so many mornings with her, to have been woven into her waking thoughts and dreams.

While you’re cautiously sweeping a few strands of hair from her face, Leigh’s lips suddenly move in her sleep. They part slightly as if she's talking, but no sound escapes. Her forehead creases into a frown—she's clearly dreaming. It's a serious, focused expression that makes her look like she’s deep in conversation with someone in her dream world, and you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle at the sight.

Realizing you've lingered longer than intended, you force yourself to stand. You quietly retrieve a towel and some clothes, deciding to take your shower in the living room bathroom. As you lather soap over your torso, the image of Leigh’s exposed skin haunts your thoughts—the small, soft patch of her stomach you saw earlier. Your fingers inadvertently brush over your own nipples, and you can't help but compare the sensation to what touching Leigh's skin might feel like, if the rest of her body feels just as smooth and supple as it looks. The thought sends a shiver through you, goosebumps forming despite the warm water. Your fingers wander lower almost of their own accord. A gasp escapes your lips when the tip of your forefinger brushes against your clit, the touch sparking an unexpected surge of arousal. Shocked by your own reaction, you quickly turn the shower knob, the water temperature dropping to a chill that snaps you out of your fantasies.

Get a grip, you mutter to yourself, feeling a combination of embarrassment and frustration. Leigh is just in the next room, trusting you, and here you are getting carried away. Shivering a bit under the cold spray, you finish up quickly, wrap yourself in a towel, and get dressed. 

You take one last look at Leigh before you leave. She’s still sprawled out in the same comfy position, deep in sleep. Waking her doesn't feel right—not just to say a quick goodbye before you rush off to work. Instead, you jot down a note on a piece of your prescription pad. It’s a quick message letting her know breakfast is ready on the table, she should feel at home, and you’ve left an extra set of keys for her. You apologize for the early exit and sign your name with a flourish. You tuck the note under her plate of French toast, placing the keys beside it. Then, remembering the night might have left her with a bit of a hangover, you put a glass of water and an aspirin by her bed. You're trying to think of everything she might need to start her day off right.

“Bye, Leigh,” you whisper as you give the room one final glance. You step out into the morning, locking up but leaving a part of your mind behind, picturing her waking up comfortable and cared for. It’s ironic that just when you decided to keep your distance, you start running into situations that make you fall even harder for her. It's as if fate is constantly nudging you in her direction.

And frankly, you don't mind it at all.

-

Leigh stirs slightly, her eyes fluttering open to a room that isn't hers. For a brief, groggy moment, she thinks she’s in Danny’s bed, but the scent is all wrong. Where Danny’s sheets carried a distinct note of sandalwood, they smell of lavender and something more… feminine. The soft difference in fragrance tugs at the edges of her memory, pulling forward the events of the previous day.

She blinks slowly, her mind piecing together the snapshots: the sharp words exchanged with Danny that morning, the solo trip out on Halloween, finding herself unexpectedly in Matt’s favorite restaurant. That’s when you came into the picture, dressed up for a date that never showed, and Leigh stepped in. You both shared a beer on the hood of your car, surrounded by glimmering, dreamlike sights, but all she could focus on was how the streetlights played over your face, making you look almost magical as you laughed, a half-empty box of donuts on your lap. You looked so... pretty, she thinks, the image stubbornly etched in her mind.

The night didn’t end there. She took you to a party. It was loud, crowded, but when you danced, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. She remembers drawing you to the dance floor, guiding your hands to her hips as she swayed. She recalls gazing at your lips, wondering how they would feel against hers.

Leigh buries her face into your pillow, her cheeks burning as she reminisces how close you were, your lips barely an inch apart. She tries to laugh it off, but it’s hollow, and her face grows hotter as she recalls you pulling away, the almost-kiss dissolving into nothing. The last-second rejection stings, but what really makes her squirm is the heat flooding her body just from thinking about it. In an attempt to distract herself, Leigh snuggles deeper into your bed, but it backfires. One deep breath and she’s engulfed by the scent you left on the pillow. It feels as if you’re right there beside her, the illusion so convincing that it briefly soothes the ache of your actual absence. 

And it's in this moment, surrounded by traces of you, that Leigh finally allows herself to fully acknowledge the attraction she’s been trying to ignore. It's been a slow, maddening realization, an interest that has compounded until it could no longer be overlooked. It’s ridiculous, really, because it sort of feels like she’s proving Matt right, wanting you just like he did. She sits up, clutching the sheets close, her heart racing as she turns over everything in her mind. It feels contradictory yet somehow... inexorable, as if it were always meant to happen.

But Leigh pushes back against the idea that anything in her life is fated, especially when it comes to who she might fall for. She's always believed in steering her own ship, picking her paths, her battles, her loves. Not just going with the flow of something because it feels like the universe is pushing her that way. She wraps the sheets tighter around her, needing to feel safeguarded, needing to remind herself that she calls the shots. 

She climbs out of bed and starts pacing restlessly like a mad woman. Yes, there's something about you that pulls at her, but that doesn’t mean she has to lose herself to it. For all she knows, it’s just a silly crush, perhaps amplified by the thought that you might have liked her first. It's probably just that—reciprocal attraction—nothing more.

A sudden noise from the living room jerks Leigh out of her tumultuous thoughts, and she frantically whips her head towards the door. It’s been so loud inside her head, that she hasn’t even considered the possibility that you might be out there—in your own apartment. Leigh stops pacing and strains to hear more. 

There’s another sound. Thud. Thud.

With a shaky breath, she calls out, “Y/N?” 

When no answer comes, Leigh edges out of the bedroom tentatively, as if stepping into her own trial. Her nerves are strung tight with anticipation of confronting you, the newly-minted object of her affection. However, as she rounds the corner, she finds only an empty living room. The quiet is almost startling. Another thud makes her jump—a dull, persistent noise. Turning towards it, she sees only pigeons at the living room window, poking their beaks against the glass, and Leigh exhales a long sigh of relief.

Intrigued, Leigh approaches the window to observe the pigeons. They remain undisturbed as she draws closer, diligently pecking at seeds scattered on the windowsill. So, you’ve been feeding them. It’s a small, charming detail about you that she hadn’t known, and it warms her heart to see this caring, tender side of you. Much like the way you took care of her last night, she feels like one of those pigeons.

Leigh leans against the wall next to the window, watching the pigeons bob their heads and shuffle around. Her eyes then drift to the dining table and land on a plate, invitingly covered, with a piece of paper peeking out beneath it. She walks over and lifts the cover to reveal a hearty serving of French toast, artfully arranged and topped with a sprinkle of powdered sugar and fresh strawberries.

The sight of the breakfast makes her mouth water, and without thinking, she reaches out with her hands and takes a bite. It's still slightly warm, a sign that you haven't been gone long. Comforted by this thought, she pulls out a dining chair and settles in, making herself comfortable. Then, picking up the note, she unfolds it to read while she enjoys her breakfast.

Hope you enjoy the French toast. I had to head out early, but I wanted to make sure you had a warm start to your day. Please make yourself at home, help yourself to anything you need, and here’s some extra keys to the apartment just in case. Sorry to miss saying goodbye this morning. I hope we can catch up later when I'm back - Y/N

Leigh bites her lip, staring down at the note and the keys beside it. It feels so... domestic. Almost too familiar, but too quickly. She can't help but recall the countless times she left similar notes for Matt, scribbled in haste before dashing off to her early morning classes at the Beautiful Beast. Her trips to Danny's apartment never felt quite like this. It had always felt more like a love nest, designed for pleasure, not partnership. It was somewhere to escape to, not a space she could ever see herself belonging in, being her own. But here, with these keys in front of her, it's different. This feels like stepping back into an old pair of shoes that doesn't quite fit the same way anymore.

Leigh hesitates, unsure if this is a good thing. If you are a good thing. With Danny, everything was safe, predictable. He wants her more than she wants him, and in a twisted way, that imbalance has become an assurance. It’s easier, requiring less vulnerability on her part. But with you, the balance feels equal, perhaps even tipping in a way that makes Leigh unsure of where she stands, unsure of her control over the situation.

That terrifies her. And she hasn't felt this scared since Matt left.

As if on cue, a loud ringing blares through the apartment. Leigh blinks, pulled abruptly back to the present, and realizes she has no idea where she left her phone. She scrambles to her feet, her search for the phone turning into a clumsy dance as she trips over herself in the process. After a brief, frantic search that feels longer than it probably is, she traces her steps back to your bedroom. There, beside the bed where she'd woken up, her phone is vibrating against the hardwood floor. The screen lights up with the name “Jules”. Leigh swipes to answer, holding the phone a bit shakily to her ear.

“Danny’s here.”

Shit, shit shit.

“Just get rid of him, Jules. I'll call him later,” Leigh says. 

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line, and then—

“Where are you, anyway?” Jules asks.

Leigh glances around, fiddling with the phone in her hand before answering, “I’m at a friend’s place.”

“Oh,” Jules lets out a low whistle. “Anyone I know?”

Leigh takes a deep breath. “Y/N.”

Jules falls silent, her breath the only sound coming through the phone. Leigh can almost visualize her sister on the other end, puzzling over why Leigh spent the night at your apartment and wondering if something happened between you two. She anticipates the barrage of questions that will greet her when she gets home.

“Leigh, I—” Jules starts to say.

“Don't. I'm leaving soon. Please make sure Danny's not there when I arrive. Please,” Leigh says. 

“Okay,” Jules says simply, and then the line goes dead.

Leigh leaves the keys where you left them and takes your note with her.

-

As the day wears on, your phone remains dishearteningly quiet. You keep checking, hoping for a simple message from Leigh—a thank you for the bed, a comment on the breakfast, or just a note to say she’s left your apartment. But nothing comes through. Each passing hour stretches your patience thinner and makes you question every detail of last night. 

Her lack of reaction leaves you with too much time to think. After the debacle with Sara and the no-show date you met from a dating app, you had felt a surge of disillusionment. So much so that last night, after Leigh left your car and walked into the party, you found yourself uninstalling the dating app from your phone in a moment of clarity. You decide it's time to focus on what feels more real, on what your heart has been screaming all along.

Leigh. 

You want Leigh, and you’re going to go after her. Forget about Danny. You won't let Leigh spend another Halloween alone, or Christmas, or New Year’s. You're resolved to be there for all the important dates—and, if you're lucky, every day in between.

Hey Leigh, just checking in to see how you’re doing. Hope your day was good, you type and hit send. You won’t wait anymore for her to reach out when you can just let her know you’ve been thinking of her. You toss your phone down and rub your hands on your face. Now it’s just a matter of waiting to see if she feels the same.

-

Leigh postpones meeting with Danny until later that evening, having spent the day lounging in bed and replaying the songs you had on in your car the previous night. She received your text, but she hasn’t even opened it yet. It's silly, but she feels that if she starts talking to you, a dam will burst—and she's not ready for that. Instead, she reaches out to Danny, asking him over so they can talk.

When Danny arrives, she doesn't invite him inside. Since Jules and her mom are home, they walk to the front steps and sit side by side, maintaining a slight distance between them.

It’s Danny who breaks the silence first. “Leigh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you so hard. Look, I just think it's a great opportunity for us—or for me, at least. And since you’re not tied down to the Beautiful Beast anymore, and your writing and part-time job are flexible, I thought... Why not?”

Leigh's expression hardens at the mention of her old job, at Danny's reasoning, and his diligent insistence. She didn’t call him over to rehash the fight they just had yesterday.

“Just because I can work from anywhere doesn't mean I want to leave,” she says. “And if we're going to have the same argument again, then you should just go.”

When Danny told Leigh he had landed a job as a retail associate at a high-end hotel in Vegas, he expected she’d be happy for him. She was, but when he suggested they move there for a fresh start, her response was an unflinching no, leaving him feeling wounded.

“But what's really keeping you here, Leigh? I mean, besides your family. Is there something else?” he asks.

At the question, Leigh feels the past and present colliding. First, she sees Matt's face, always Matt's face—his smile, the comfort of his presence that used to fill her days. Then her mind flickers to the times she found herself passing your clinic after long, aimless drives meant to clear her head. Your face starts to overlap with her memories of Matt, not replacing but somehow intertwining. 

“Matt,” Leigh forces herself to say, forces herself to believe. “If I leave this place, it's like... it's like I'm leaving him for good. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s how it feels.”

“Matt's been gone for a long time. You think he'd want you to just stop living your life? Waiting for what? For a ghost?” Danny argues, his voice rising just a little. He looks away, down the shadowy street. His hands ball into fists and then relax. Under the weak glow of the streetlamp, it’s as if Matt’s shadow stretches beside him, a long, imposing figure that Danny can never seem to escape.

“Leigh, I’m just trying to help us move forward, that’s all,” he continues, softer, more defeated. Leigh catches the tightness of his expression, the effort it takes him to stay calm. She reaches out, her fingertips lightly touching his knuckles. Danny grabs this small sign of affection, quickly cradling Leigh’s face in his hands and drawing her into a fervent kiss. Leigh doesn’t respond immediately, but then she melts into its familiarity, allowing her lips to be pliable to his. 

Danny breaks the kiss, his breath ragged as he searches Leigh's eyes. “Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to leave Matt for good,” he whispers.

She shakes her head, her voice trembling. “I-I don't know, Danny—”

“Leigh, I love you.”

It's the first time either of them has said it. Leigh had imagined fireworks or something clicking into place when it happened. She expected the grand declaration to sweep her off her feet, but instead, she finds herself still teetering on the brink, not quite ready to leap. But what she cannot ignore is the sincerity in his words. Danny has loved her through her worst—in his own way. It's not easy to dismiss or reject such devotion.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Danny says quickly. He's afraid of hearing her say no again. Silence would be better; he could let himself believe that maybe she felt the same way. Silence could mean ‘yes’, right? he thinks, grasping at straws.

“Leigh, I’m taking that job, and I’m leaving after Thanksgiving. That gives us about a month,” he says, cradling her face now with both hands pleadingly. “Please, just think about it. Think about coming with me.”

Despite her reservations, Leigh ends up saying, “Okay, I'll think about it.”

Danny’s face breaks into a smile. He kisses her again, a soft, reaffirming kiss that seems to thank her for even considering his request.

The next second, Jules interrupts the moment, opening the door unceremoniously. Leigh throws her a sharp look, which her sister disregards with a shrug. 

“Logan's been barking at the door for some time now, in case you didn't hear,” Jules drawls, cradling a bowl of cereal—her dinner.

At her words, Logan bursts through the opening and makes a beeline for Leigh. He leaps straight into Leigh's lap, settling in with a decisive huff, his eyes darting possessively from Leigh to Danny. It's as if he's laying claim to her, telling Danny without words that Leigh has roots here too deep to simply pull up, saying, she’s mine, you’re not going to take her away from me. 

Leigh pulls Logan closer, thinking about how much you’ll miss him if she decides to go with Danny.

-

You get home from work just after nine, tossing your keys on the kitchen counter with a weary sigh. A quick check of your phone confirms what you'd been dreading all day: Leigh still hasn't read your message from the afternoon. That sinking feeling of disappointment hits you again—harder this time. It’s like a pattern with her: warm and engaging one day, distant and cold the next. You can't deny that this inconsistency is starting to wear on you. It's bordering on cruel.

What are you doing wrong? Why can’t you figure out what makes her switch off like this? 

And then, unable to help it, you send another text.

[9:10 PM] You: Is everything okay?

Dinner is a microwave affair tonight, not that you're really tasting any of it. You sit down to eat, your phone still within sight. That message never gets read either.

-

Leigh has always been unpredictable, but she has never actively avoided you like this before. She knows what she's doing, leaving your messages unread for the past three days. Just when you declare to the universe that you'd pursue her, she shuts you out completely. You can't even feel sorry for yourself; somehow, you brought this on, right?

When the day rolls around for Logan's next vaccine appointment, you catch yourself nervously checking the time more often than usual. But when the appointment time comes, a different Shaw brings him in. Jules holds onto Logan's leash as he excitedly sniffs every corner of the waiting room, his tail wagging a mile a minute. 

“Hey,” Jules greets you, a bit out of breath from handling Logan's forceful tugs. “Leigh had some things to take care of, so I'm on Logan duty today.”

“Of course, no problem at all. How’s he been?” You try to keep your tone light as you kneel down to give Logan some attention, scratching behind his ears the way you know he likes.

“He’s been great, a real bundle of energy,” Jules replies, watching you with Logan. She hesitates before adding, “And Leigh’s been... well, you know Leigh.”

Actually, you think, you don't know Leigh—not as well as you thought. “Yeah,” you respond, looking up at Jules with a forced smile. “I know.”

After you administer the vaccine, the appointment passes with small talk, mostly about Logan’s antics and not much else. Jules is friendly but doesn’t venture into whatever might be happening with Leigh.

Just as you’re seeing Jules off, the clinic door swings open again. And you’re completely unprepared for the person who steps in.

“Hi,” Sara smiles at you, and then lifts the kitten in her hands. “Think you can help me with her, doctor?”

In a moment of unpreparedness, you cough awkwardly to cover your reaction, a flush creeping up your cheeks. “Hi, Sara,” you say, a bit flustered as you usher her inside. “What do we have here?”

“It's a rescue. Found her all alone by the roadside,” Sara explains, handing the tiny kitten to you with a concerned frown.

Jules catches the interaction, her eyes narrowing slightly—not missing how your entire demeanor changes around Sara—who is undeniably beautiful. 

“Right this way,” you tell the blonde, leading her to the examination table. “Let's see what we can do for her.”

As soon as you and Sara are out of earshot, Suzie muses aloud, “They'd make a lovely pair, don't you think? If only Y/N wasn't so hung up on a widow…”

Jules stiffens slightly, her voice cool as she says, “And you are?”

“Suzie,” Suzie responds cheerfully, extending a hand to Jules with a bright smile. “Y/N’s assistant and friend. Nice to meet you.”

Jules shakes her hand, her smile polite but reserved. “Jules,” she responds tersely, omitting her connection as Leigh's sister. “So, what about Sara and Y/N?”

Well, Suzie can’t resist a juicy bit of gossip now, can she?

-

You don't usually pour yourself a glass of wine on a weeknight, but after today, you've cracked open a bottle that's been gathering dust for a year. Sara’s surprise visit at the clinic left you rattled. She had called you out for being distant after the two of you ran into Leigh one morning, and it embarrassed you how right she was. You hadn't been upfront about your emotional availability—or lack thereof—because of your feelings for Leigh.

When you finally admitted to Sara that you were in love with someone else, you braced for a fallout. But instead, Sara laughed, a light, carefree sound that took you by surprise. “I don't mind if you're emotionally unavailable,” she had said with a shrug. “I'm just looking for something casual.”

For a split second, her proposition—friends with benefits—was like candy being dangled in front of you: appetizing and readily available. But that conversation was at work, in the middle of your clinic, and the timing felt all sorts of wrong. 

You let the moment pass without responding, and Sara backtracked a little with a noncommittal, “Well, you have my number. I really like you, Y/N. We can be friends, and if you ever need to…unwind, well, I can be your best friend.”

You're midway through your glass of wine when you decide to check your phone again, automatically opening the chat window with Leigh. It's almost become a habit, expecting your messages to remain unread. But this time, Leigh's avatar is right there under the last text you sent. She's read them. Today. 

Why now?

Before you can dedicate the rest of your evening into that question, a knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. It's late, and you don’t remember ordering food delivery. You set your glass down and head over to see who it is. 

Upon opening the door, you're greeted by a downcast brunette. She looks nervous, clutching her purse as if it were a lifeline.

“Leigh?”

“Hi,” she says, lifting her eyes to meet yours, searching your face for a reaction. As confused as you are, your heart kicks up a notch simply because she’s there, so close you could reach out and touch her. For a moment, you wonder if you're dreaming, if the alcohol is taking effect and conjuring up your desires right before you.

You notice the slight tremor in her hands, the way she’s standing—a bit too rigid, like she’s bracing for something tough.

Clearing your throat, you start to ask, “Would you like to come—”

“Is she here?” Leigh interrupts abruptly.

You blink in surprise.

“Who?”

“Sara,” Leigh replies, her chin jutting forward. She attempts to peer past you, as if she might find the answer somewhere inside your apartment. 

“No, she's not,” you say slowly, puzzled and a bit annoyed by her tone. “Why would she be?” 

You can't hide your surprise at her directness, or the discomfort it stirs in you. It's a bit ridiculous, even rude, how Leigh has been avoiding you, leaving your messages unread, and now she's here, asking you about another girl without a preamble. Leigh doesn't wait for an invitation; she brushes past you and steps further into your apartment, her eyes searching every corner of the room.

“I thought you said it didn't work out with Sara,” she says, almost accusingly, turning to face you again. The way she's acting—like she has any right to demand answers about your personal life after days of silence—is starting to grate on your nerves. 

You press your lips together, taking a deep breath to quell your rising irritation.

“It didn’t. She brought a kitten to the clinic today, that’s all. We're not seeing each other, Leigh,” you tell her. Although she did tell me she’s interested in sleeping with me, you nearly say aloud.

Leigh’s mouth twists into a sneer. “Then why did Jules…” she trails off, her expression falling as it finally clicks.

Jules lied to her.

“Jules…?” you echo incredulously. “What did she tell you?”

Leigh's confidence wavers even further as she says, “She... she said she met Sara at your clinic. Called her your girlfriend.”

You shake your head, exasperation seeping through your features. “Sara is not my girlfriend,” you repeat firmly. The situation is quickly becoming absurd, and you decide to push a bit, to get to the heart of what's really bothering her. “But what does it matter to you if she was?”

“It doesn’t,” Leigh replies in a flat, unconvincing tone.

“Then what are you doing here?” you ask gently, as if addressing a child mid-tantrum. 

Leigh doesn't answer right away, her cheeks glowing red as she looks anywhere but you. She's clearly embarrassed by the entire ordeal, and you find yourself struggling not to smile at the implications of her visit. She's bothered by the idea of you with Sara because—

“Leigh, are you jealous?” you ask, taking a deliberate step towards her. You hold her captive with your eyes, making it impossible for Leigh to look away.

“I’m with Danny.” Her voice cracks as she takes a step back.

“That’s not an answer,” you whisper softly, closing the distance between you once more.

“No, I... maybe. I don't know,” she stammers, then sighs deeply, her shoulders slumping as she finally meets your gaze. “Yes, I guess I am. I don't like thinking of you with someone else. Is that answer enough?”

As you take another step forward, Leigh instinctively moves back, and this dance continues until she finds herself against a wall. You're close now, close enough to feel the tension radiating from her. Her back is pressed against the concrete, your body just inches from hers, effectively trapping her in the corner. 

Leigh doesn’t know at which point she’s closed her eyes. Was it when she felt your breath whisper across her upper lip as you sighed, clearly as affected by the proximity as she was? Or was it when her back met the cool wall, the hard reality telling her she had nowhere else to go? Perhaps it was simply the anticipation, the tightening expectation of your lips meeting hers, the thought of surrendering to this—whatever this is becoming between you.

But then, two seconds pass. Five. Ten. Nothing happens.

The anticipated kiss doesn’t come. 

When she finally opens her eyes, the question in yours is unmistakable. You’re near enough, she could just lean in, but you’re giving her a choice, asking without words if this is what she wants. And that’s when she remembers how she ended up at your doorstep. Leigh's mind reels, darting back to Jules' little lie. She's struck by the realization that Jules probably felt compelled to lie because Leigh had been inadvertently pushing you away, leaving a door open for someone else to step in. And if she keeps this up, it might be Sara who ends up here, against your wall, in your arms. The image stabs at her heart, jealousy tightening her chest.

No, she can’t let that happen.

Summoning a courage she didn’t know she had left, Leigh reaches out and gently takes your hand. She brings it to her face, pressing her lips against your palm in a kiss so tender it steals your breath. It’s a silent plea. A tender claim.

It's just a small kiss, simple and soft, but it rushes through you like wildfire, stirring feelings deeper and more intense than any long, drawn-out foreplay ever did. You realize just how much you've been holding back, shielding yourself from potential pain. But now, as Leigh's kiss sears into your palm, all those defenses seem pointless. With a fervor driven by weeks of restrainment, you close the distance entirely. 

Your kiss lands on Leigh's lips with everything you have, as if this moment, this single kiss, might be your only chance. Yet, even in your urgency, there's a tenderness, a reverence in the way your lips carefully slot between hers. As you kiss, there's a meticulous attention to the details—the softness of her lips, the way they fit perfectly against yours, the gentle give when you press a little harder. It’s as if you’re trying to memorize her through this kiss.

Leigh matches your ardor, her fingers weaving into your hair, tugging you closer as if she can't get enough. You react instinctively, your hands sliding from her hips to her waist, lifting her shirt just enough to feel her skin beneath your fingertips. The slight pressure of your nails makes Leigh gasp, a sound that breaks the seal of your lips just enough for you to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue past her defenses. The act draws a guttural moan from her—a sound that vibrates through your core, sending ripples of desire pulsating through your body. 

It shouldn’t be this perfect the first time, but it is.

The kiss grows wetter, more urgent. It's selfish, a relentless chase of sensation where both of you are simultaneously taking and giving everything you have, until it feels like there's nothing left to offer. While Leigh’s tongue explores every inch of your mouth, her hands find their way to either side of your neck, fingertips lightly grazing your skin, sending tingles straight down your spine. Your own hands aren't idle. They roam up her back, feeling the smooth expanse of her skin under your fingertips. As you slide your hands upward, you discover something that emits a low groan from you—she’s not wearing a bra. A part of you, the rational part that's still functioning, slowly begins to recognize the gravity of what’s unfolding. It's too easy to get lost in Leigh, in the rush and the heat, but something stops you. You want this—more than anything in the moment—but it has to mean something. Because once you cross this line with Leigh, there's no going back to the uninhibited, distant longing you've managed until now. 

Just as the thought crystallizes, Leigh breaks the kiss with a wet pop. Her eyes flutter open, slowly, lazily. Her gaze is unfocused at first, pupils dilated, the vibrant green of her irises almost swallowed by the black. Oh, she definitely wants you too.

“Why did you stop?” you murmur, your voice unmistakably laden with desire as you rest your forehead against hers.

A grin tugs at Leigh’s lips as replies softly, “I just wanted to see you.”

Your smile widens as her fingers absentmindedly play with the little hairs at the nape of your neck. She seems mesmerized by your eyes, now darkened with lust, and without thinking, she blurts out, “You really do have espresso eyes.”

Her words make you freeze in her arms. That nickname—it's the same one you use anonymously for your submissions to your favorite advice column. Maybe it's just a coincidence, right? 

But Leigh's reaction a moment later suggests otherwise. Her face blanches, eyes widening in a sudden flare of panic as she realizes what she's just said. 

“Y/N—” Leigh starts but you cut her off by stepping out of her embrace, your stance becoming guarded.

The warmth vanishes from your eyes. “What did you just say?”

[jokeringcutio]

DRABBLE/ Insomnia!READER X THE GRABBER

Fandom: Black Phone 2022

Pairing: The Grabber/ Albert Shaw x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Kidnapping, Dark!, Non-con/Dub-con, Forced!Blowjob, Smut, Insomnia!Reader, Kidnapped!Reader, Victim!Reader. Implied age gap/ older man/younger woman, somnophilia, use of Little/good Girl.

AN: for @ninakuli How would the Grabber react if the reader couldn’t get to sleep? Well, this might be one of the ways.

->

“Can’t sleep?”

The rough voice made you look up from your position lying on the moldy mattress. You wondered how anyone could sleep here. A stranger’s house, a damp basement, an unknown environment. The walls were bare except for the painting peeling down. The tiny barred window that let in the only light, whether it was day or night because of the lamp that hung in front of it, was up too high. The walls absorbed any sound. It was a prison made with hellish barriers.

And then there was that stranger who came watching. You never knew when he would be down here. Never knew what he would do next. It had you on edge. How could anyone ever sleep when he was around?

So far, he’d mostly been down to watch you, talk to you, work on your mind until his words confused you and you started to believe you’d ended up here all because of your own doing. That you deserved being here.

But there had been that one time when you had pretended to have been asleep, eyes closed, in hopes he would become bored and turn away. But instead of leaving, you had heard his breathing deepen. And then you had felt his hand between your thighs, fingers pressing deep into your clothed skin until one finger curled against your covered cunt. You could still feel his fingertip press against your sensitive bud. The touch hadn’t lasted long, for you’d shot up instantly and his hand had been back by his side almost just as fast. But you were certain it had not been a dream.

And now you were scared of him. Frightened, that if you were to go to sleep, he might take you in it. That he might claim your body as his own when you could not fight back.

Anxiety ate you, piece by piece until it wrecked your nerves and made you shiver with fearful anticipation. Any sound would trigger a panicked reaction and would have you sit up and open your eyes. Because he is here again, isn’t he? Even when he wasn’t. You were constantly alert, ready to shy away from any advances he might try to make.

And so, you blinked up at him fearfully while you wondered what he would be doing next. He’d commented on your lack of sleep the past few times he’d been down there, annoyed that he couldn’t watch you sleep like he had the others. You didn’t know how many had been here before you, only that he somehow seemed to enjoy observing them when they weren’t awake.

Creep, you thought. You wondered if he got off of it. And why he couldn’t just enjoy you while you were awake?

Perhaps that had been a wrong thought to have, because what he said next made shivers run down your spine.

“I know just the thing.” Just the thing for what? To make you sleepy? You wondered for a moment if he referred to some kind of drug, or if he might just knock you out with one of his fists. But he did neither.

He cocked his head to the side, the mask’s chin pointed at his right shoulder. He was observing you, his stance pensively. What was he thinking? But then you regretted that thought when the man came over to you, coming closer than he had in the past few days.

“An ancient old medicine,” he said, voice low and gruff, while he started to unbuckle his belt. And that was the moment you realized what he might be implying. What he might want from you. He probably had wanted this all along.

Your eyes grew wide with fear as you tried to crawl back on the mattress until your back hit the wall and you couldn’t back away any further. “It has proven to be very effective over time,” his husky voice sounded. Then a chuckle emerged from behind the mask as he pushed his pants and underpants down to reveal an achingly hard cock, pre-cum dripping from the tip and glistening in the faint light that fell in from the window above.

The belt was wrapped around his right fist, the end of it dangling in front of you.

You tried to shield your eyes with your hands. “Please,” you begged when you noticed he’d stepped even closer and completely ignored the fact that you had tried to get away. “No, please,” his hand was upon your wrist, yanking it away to uncover your eyes. You looked up at him, tears glistening in your eyes, while you pleaded for him to spare you. “I’ll go to sleep,” you said, voice choked by tears. “Please, I’ll be good. I’ll go to sleep. You don’t need to do this.”

He paused in his actions and there was that tilt of his head again as he studied you through the hole-eyes of the mask. The belt dropped from his hand and fell to the basement floor with a clank.

His right hand came up to your cheek and you flinched, afraid he might slap you there. But his touch was gentle, his palm lightly upon your skin. You opened your eyes again to look up at him mistrustingly and wished you could tell what kind of expression he held behind that darned mask he was wearing.

You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that he was taking his time, standing there, only inches away from you. He was gently caressing your cheek, his thumb tracing circles. The motion was soothing as if he was trying to comfort you. It worked as well, for you felt your shoulders relax somewhat, despite your brain being on full alert.

His other hand was holding his cock. The aching hard member twitched in his grip as a new spurt of pre-cum droplets emerged from the tip. You tried not to look at it, which was hard as his shaft was on eye-level with you, ready to be brought to your lips.

Would he do it? You wondered how far he would go. He hadn’t touched you before like this. He’d been mostly at a distance. Except for that one time. But it figured he would eventually succumb to these primal desires. Why else had he taken you? If it had been just to kill then he would have done so already. Why keep you alive if not for this?

You whimpered, slightly trembling under his caress. A low hum escaped the masked man, then he stood straight again and you saw him move his upper body. The vest he was wearing fell open, his naked stomach showed. Round, you thought, pudgy. Yet, the muscles that showed on his chest betrayed your kidnapper was a man of strength. A strength that was confirmed almost instantly when he suddenly reached for you.

You felt your head being yanked towards him, and his shaft that had been angled at your lips was now pressed against them, begging you to spread them wide. He kept pushing, roughly, until the meat was between your lips and the head of his cock was upon your tongue. The salty taste of flesh mixed with the bitterness of the pre-cum filled your mouth and you hollowed your cheeks. And then he started to thrust.

You looked up at him, pleading silently for his mercy. But at the sight of your tear-stained eyes, his thrusts grew even fiercer and his grip on your head even tighter. You were left with no alternative but to suck, accepting his cock deep inside your throat.

Low, deep rumbles came from the depth of his chest when you started to cooperate. He was pleased, humming and moaning ‘oh yeah’ and ‘just like that’. Sounds that vibrated through his cock until you felt them in your mouth.

Dirty, your mind provided you while he moved you up and down his shaft. The salty and bitter taste of him filled you completely. The curly hairs around his manhood pressed into your nostrils when he pushed your head forward, blocking off your chance to breathe. You sputtered around him, feeling the tip at the back of your throat, feeling his cock spasm between your lips.

You gurgled and sputtered, trying not to choke. A moment of respite when he slid your head back again and his cock nearly left your lips, but then he pushed forward again until his hips met your cheek and your nose was nestled deep within his pubic hair.

You gasped and tried to claw at his hips, but all you felt was how he kept a tight grip on your head and stilled his movements, leaving his cock deep between your lips, the head pushing the back of your throat.

The process repeated itself a few more times, until his cock finally slipped from your lips and you were left gasping for air. A trail of sperm and saliva dripped from your lips and ran down your chin. You moved your hand up to wipe it away, but he caught your wrist before you could get there.

Staring up at him with wide eyes, you heard a chuckle derive from behind the mask. “Na-ah,” the man tusked, his low gravelly voice making something twist deep inside you. A longing, a tingle that had you squeezing your legs together. A foreboding feeling washed over you, that he wasn’t finished just yet. That this was only the beginning.

“Leave it there,” the man hummed. The pause that followed felt too long, making you writhe uncomfortably while you waited for him to either speak or let go of your hand. In the end, he did both, nearly at the same time. “I think I will have to cover your face in a layer of my spunk next time,” there was that rasp again. You had heard it before, how he could slide from a normal, almost gentle tone, into a demonic rasp that was usually used when he was angry and full of curses. “Paint your face a nice white with my cum,” he clicked his tongue behind the mask. His voice became lighter again.

“But for now, there’s another way I have in mind to tire you.”

You shivered at the promise and tried to back away again. The man in front of you got hold of his throbbing cock, wrapping his left hand around it. You saw how his fingers curled around the glistening shaft, still covered in your saliva, and watched how the veins throbbed when he moved his hand up and down at a firm but gentle pace. The ring on his finger glinted in the weak light, skin rippling as he pumped his hand up and down his throbbing cock. Still hard. Balls underneath heavy with cum.

“Undress, sweetie,” he cooed, voice soft like honey.  But when you refused to do as he said, his tone turned drier and more menacing again.

What happened next was much of a blur. He made you undress for him, tweak your nipples for him, rub your hands up and down your bare chest for him while he watched and laughed and licked his tongue past his teeth at the show. His hand never ceased moving up and down slowly, hardening himself underneath his touch until he thought it was enough.

 “Spread your legs, sweetheart,” it took only one command and you were back on your back on the mattress. Your bare back scrubbed along the mold. Even covered in the dark shade of the mask, you could see the glistening of his eyes, pupils wide. You hesitatingly spread your legs for him.

He crawled over you, cock still in his hand, and pressed your legs apart to fit himself in between. His right hand was on your thigh, palm pressed against your soft skin. His left hand guided his cock to your quivering cunt until you felt the head kiss your labia. A wet feeling against your pussy lips and you realized he was smearing his pre-cum at your entrance, deliberately rubbing the head of his cock up and down your entrance while some of the pre-cum came seeping out.

Your fingers clawed at his shoulders and your lips parted in a gasp. “Please,” you begged, knowing it to be futile. Then he dipped in, just the head. Careful fingers pressed the tip in. Not enough to hurt yet, just enough to tease.

He paused in his actions just to bend down, his hair brushed against your cheek as he whispered near your face. “That’s my good girl.”

Then he thrust forth without mercy.

You were speared upon his cock that night, in the basement that was your prison. He left you sore and tired as he forced orgasm after orgasm out of your trembling body beneath him.

He’d been right. You closed your eyes and fell into a dreamless slumber afterward, relieved when he finally rose from the bed and left you alone. You were too tired to notice when the Grabber returned for you in the midst of the night to get some more relief. Until you faintly awoke to wet sounds and the odd feeling of something thrusting deep inside you.

“Hush, pretty girl,” the low voice whispered in your ear, hips moving relentlessly while he kept pushing himself inside. One hand was on your breast, squeezing it tightly while he toyed with you. His other arm was around your waist, his knee between your legs as he held you from behind, your cunt squeezing down on his cock which was covered in your mixed juices.

“I’ll make you go to sleep soon, little one. Don’t you worry. I’ll make you sleep real deep.”  

[redactahoe]

[set before darlin moves in with sam, in the pack den, they are coloring at the coffee table]

pack kid: where do you live?

darlin': in the city.

pack kid: do you have a house?

darlin: apartment.

pack kid: own or rent?

darlin: rent.

pack kid: what do you do for a living?

darlin: lots of things.

pack kid: where's your office?

darlin: i don't have one.

pack kid: how come?

darlin': i don't need one.

pack kid: where your wife?

darlin': don't have one.

pack kid: how come?

darlin': its a long story.

pack kid: do you have kids?

darlin': no, i don't.

pack kid: how come?

darlin’: its an even longer story.

pack kid: are you David's [brother/sister/sibling]?

darlin': what's your record for consecutively asked questions?

pack kid: 38

darlin': I'm David's [brother/sister/sibling] alright.

pack kid: you have a lot more scars than David does.

darlin': how nice of you to notice.

pack kid: I'm a kid, that's my job.

[toxicanonymity]

boyd-a-thon fic drive.

In this event, I donate $10/fic to Palestine Children's Relief Fund for smutty Boyd Holbrook character fics. You write a fic, 500-3k words. To participate, please tag #boyd-a-thon, me, and @lustaffairs.

Event Masterlist (ongoing). Optional Prompts

Done: 20 | Remaining: 10

I went ahead and made all the donations, but would love for people to keep participating and be added to the masterlist until it reaches 30 fics.

BACKGROUND: In thanks for these fics, I donated $10/fic to palestine children's relief fund, which is a top rated organization on charity navigator. I decided to continue this for more fics.

It can be any character on Boyd's IMDB, including - Donald Pierce (Logan), Clement Mansell (Justified City Primeval), Billy (Skeleton Twins), Amos Jenkins (Little Accidents) Mo Lundy (The Free World), Steve Murphy (Narcos), Ty Shaw (Vengeance 2022), and more. . .There's not always a steady flow of Boyd character fics, the fandom deserves to feast (including the amazing gifmakers), and this is what I crave.

I don't care if I've never heard of you, or if it's your first fic. It can be porn without plot. It can be an AU like mafia, stepcest, etc. it can be out of character. 500-3k words? Brownie points from me for vaginal sex or jacking off. But this isn't limited to F/M, you can do a reader or character pairing of your choice.

Target - April 30 but no hard deadline.

PLEASE USE A READMORE text divider🙏 so I can reblog, and please include approximate word count if you don't mind. There will also be a masterlist. If I don't interact within a day, please DM. I will donate at the end of each week.

current gif by @boydholbrook-fan <33 always amazing

--------

I made a pcrf acct for this purpose but have also donated multiple times without an account, and it was very easy. I didn't even have to give my phone number. You can choose any amount to give. You don't have to use their pre-set amounts.

Your donation allows PCRF to deliver on its humanitarian mission and send international volunteer medical missions to treat sick and injured patients while training local doctors. It also enables PCRF to send wounded and sick children abroad for free medical care they cannot get locally. As a 4-star rated charity for the past 11 years, you can be sure that your donation will have the biggest impact on the lives of children in the Middle East, regardless of politics or religion.

$10 is comparable to ~15,000 clicks (on arab.org).

Last donation: May 25

IMG: PCRF dashboard says good afternoon, toxi! and shows I've given $300 through the acct I made for this event.

[writing-house-of-m]

Playing Games & Mischief

Leigh Shaw x GN!Reader

Summary: Leigh's sleep talking has you wondering what she could have been dreaming about

A/N: I only got this request when I asked for some ideas last week, which I'm actually grateful for lol Here you go anon, I hope you like it. It is very cute in my opinion 😌 but let me know what you all think!

You have been wanting to see Leigh all day, she was already gone when you woke up this morning. There has been something you wanted to ask her since you woke up in the middle of the night last night. 

Something you think will embarrass Leigh which means you have to mention it for your own entertainment. 

The sound of the front door opening and the rustling of bags indicate Leigh is finally home. ‘Finally!’ You think. You have had to wait for her all day (a few hours). 

Sneaking into the kitchen you quietly walk up behind Leigh and wrap your arms around her, your voice is low when you speak. "Hello wife," you say, pressing a kiss on Leigh's neck. 

You don't think you will ever tire of saying that - 'wife'. 

Leigh greets you back and when you look up to see the full grocery bags she turns her head to peck you on the cheek. She busies herself with emptying the contents of said bags. 

After you place another peck on Leigh's shoulder you pull away giving her some space to continue with what she is doing. 

You stand by her side leaning against the counter and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Mrs Leigh Shaw, my love, my wife, the eternal light of my life." Leigh raises an eyebrow at your antics wondering where this is going to go. “I have a question for you.” 

You don't wait for a response and continue, "Does 'You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them' sound familiar to you?" You ask. 

Leigh squints her eyes at you confused. 

To clarify, you add sweetly, "What were you dreaming about last night, love?" While grinning. 

It's quick, and if you were anyone else they would not have seen it. There is the briefest look of realisation on your wife's face before she schools her features once more. 

And even though you know she knows you can catch her in a lie, she still chooses to withhold the truth from you. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, babe." Leigh grins back then turns around to walk to one of the cabinets to put some cans of food away. Purposely looking away from you because she doesn't want you to see the sheepish look on her face. 

Oh, she wants to play. Time for a little fun. 

"Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie,” your grin widens as you raise an eyebrow. 

Leigh makes her way back to stand next to you seemingly unaffected. 

Being with Leigh for so long means you know all the right buttons to press. So the tone of voice you use is one you know will get a reaction out of her. 

You lean in close, one hand leaning against the counter, the other going to the small of Leigh's back while you speak low, “You know, I know when you're lying. Why must we play these games, Mrs Shaw?” 

Leigh glances over at you from the corner of her eye then sighs, resting her hands on the flat surface in what you think is defeat. 

You're so close to her now you can practically feel the effect you have on her especially with your voice teasing Leigh right by her ear, "Tell me love, what was it you were dreaming about?" 

Leigh turns her head to you, your lips inches apart. You twitch your eyebrow while biting your bottom lip ready for Leigh to fall victim to your charm. 

What you don't expect is for Leigh to reverse the roles. 

"What if I say I was dreaming about you?" It's Leigh's turn to raise her eyebrows and bite her lip. 

"I had you in the palm of my hand,” she narrates sultrily, hand on your chest to push you so that your back is pressed against the edge of the counter. “And you just wanted to," Leigh's hand slowly makes its way up your bicep,"touch me." She finishes as her hands glide up your neck and rest there.

Goosebumps flair on your skin as you sigh, affected by how close she is, her breath brushing your lips. Your eyelids droop as she takes hold of your stings and plays you like a puppet. 

This is not going how you thought it would. 

"Then what happened," you whisper. You're surprised you even get the words out with the way her fingers play with the hairs at the nape of your neck.

"And then," she pushes her body, if possible, even closer to yours. Her soft edges mould perfectly to you while your arms catch up to the instructions your brain is sending out to wrap around her waist. You feel heat radiating from your cheeks and the tips of your ears when she brushes her nose against yours. 

When she leans in, “And then…” you blink slowly waiting for the gap to close. But Leigh pulls away, "And then I woke up!" She slaps your cheek twice then heads out of the kitchen, leaving you standing there in a dumbfounded mess. 

"You can finish with the groceries, I'm going to go shower," Leigh says, her voice bright. She pauses at the doorway to look over her shoulder at you. You, with your wide eyed, mouth agape look of despair, "love." Then proceeds to walk away. 

You rub the back of your neck while you scrunch your eyebrows together, "What just happened?" You sigh to yourself, looking at the items that still need to be put away. Your brain then slowly catches up with the fact you had just been played. 

Freezing for a second, it hits you. What she instructed. And where she is going. 

You scoff as a smirk takes over your face and before you know it you're racing off in the direction your wife just went, "Leigh Shaw, you're going to regret that!" 

When Leigh hears your footsteps closing in on her she tries to run away but you are too quick for her. Leigh shrieks when your arms wrap around her, capturing her like prey. 

You both fall into a fit of laughter stopping a few feet from the bathroom. Turning Leigh around in your arms, she buries her face in your neck to avoid looking at you, playing coy. 

"Nuh uh, let me see those pretty eyes, baby," you say, using your hand to guide her face away from its hiding place. 

When her green eyes meet yours your smile is automatic. You swear you see them sparkle with how much they seem to be shining at this moment. The sparkle you initially think is admiration turns out to be mischief. 

She raises an eyebrow, "So, how exactly am I going to regret my actions?" Leigh asks cheekily. 

"Let's just say, 'You did some bad things, but I'm going to be the worst one of them'." You mock Leigh with her own words from last night, making yourself chuckle. 

In response Leigh rolls her eyes, pushing your shoulder. 

Shortly after, the mischievous look takes over her face once again, "I want to know how you're going to punish me." 

That damn lip bite is going to be the death of you, but this time you are not going to let her win. 

You lift her up with ease and lean in close, your lips barely grazing hers to say, "Oh, I have a few ideas," before closing the gap between you and making your way to the bathroom. 

[rizlowwritessortof]

Waiting for the Real Thing

Yes, after one episode, I did it. I wrote a Russell Shaw fic. I know.

You can't serve in the same unit with somebody without getting pretty close. She managed to survive around him until a couple of years ago. And when she hears about their brother-in-arms troubles, she heads that way to help out. Of course, Russ beat her to it. And now she just can't make herself leave without seeing him.

Pairing: Russell Shaw/OC (Andi)

Word Count: 2759

Warnings: A little angst, a little smut, a little more angst and some fluff thrown in here and there for good measure 🙂

Dividers by the always amazing @firefly-graphics

Andi hesitated a moment before knocking. She could still walk away, pretend she hadn’t ‘accidentally’ found him. She’d be better off. At least her heart would be.

She knocked anyway.

He opened the door cautiously, eyes quickly taking her in, then scanning the area before landing on her again. His smile widened slowly, and he stepped back, gesturing with a tilt of his head for her to come into the room.

She couldn’t help grinning back at him, waiting for him to put his gun on the table before he grabbed her into a bear hug that she answered with equal enthusiasm. “Hey, Russ.”

He moved back, beaming into her face. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s been – what – two years?”

“Almost. How are you?”

Russell pulled out a chair and gestured for her to have a seat. “I’m good. Well, my arm’s a little sore, but I’ll live.” He handed her a beer from the mini-fridge and sat down across the table from her. “So seriously, what brings you to this neck of the woods?”

Andi opened her beer and took a long swallow. “Heard about Doug. Of course, by the time I got here, you already had it taken care of. Stopped by his place, he told me where you were staying – I just took a shot that you were still here.” She nodded towards his arm. “I heard you caught a bullet. Did you see a doctor?”

Russell rolled his eyes a little and nodded, answering with a cheerfully gruff tolerance. “Yes, mom, I saw a doctor. Antibiotics and everything, don’t worry. ‘Course I went through Horizon, the locals get all bent out of shape when there’s a gunshot injury.”

“Good. I know how you are. I can just see you still out on the job, wailing on bad guys with your one good arm.” She let her smile fade. “So you met up with Colter. How’d that go?”

He smiled. “Good, I think. Cleared the air some. At least he doesn’t still think I killed our dad.” He leaned back in his chair, those candid green eyes of his taking her in. “It’s really good to see you, Andi.” He took a swig from his bottle. “So what are you up to these days?”

“Actually, I’m heading to Fort Worth. I start a job there next week. I’ll be running system security for a computer software company down there.”

Russ gave her that crooked, disarming smile that never failed to make her heartbeat pause for a second. “You always did have that sexy nerd thing goin’ on. That’s awesome, really.” He sat forward, bracing himself on his forearms. “Think you can handle that, sitting behind a desk all day?”

She smiled back at him. “Hell, yes. I’m ready for a quiet life. I’ve had enough gunfire and chaos to last me the rest of my days.” She rose to her feet and tossed her bottle, helping herself to another beer. Russ nodded as she waved it at him, and she grabbed one for him, setting it in front of him as she sat down again. “What about you? When are you gonna give it up? You’ve been talking about opening that little brewery for years now.”

“I’ll get there someday. I don’t know, if I’m not in the middle of somethin’, I just get – antsy.”

Her expression grew more serious, and she looked down at the table. “Yeah. Gotta keep moving – because if you hold still long enough, you might get attached to something. Or someone.” She opened her beer and took a long pull, setting it down and still avoiding Russell’s eyes when he spoke again.

“I’m sorry, Andi.” His voice was soft, barely audible, and he reached out to put a calloused hand over hers. “You have every right to be pissed at me for taking off like I did.”

She shook her head. “We never made any promises. I just thought, after that few days – I don’t know. I thought we had something. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.”

He took hold of her hand, and she looked up at him, the expression in her eyes sending a stab of guilt through his chest. “We did have something. We do. I just – I know I’m fucking bad at this shit.” He ducked his head down a little, peering up into her eyes. “We’re okay, right? You mean a lot to me, I don’t wanna lose – well, whatever the hell this is.”

A smile crept onto her face, and she shook her head. “You and those damn puppy dog eyes. Yes, we’re okay. We’ll always be okay.” She shifted in her chair, partly as an excuse to pull her hand away. There was only so much actual contact she could take without losing what little control she had around him. “So, tell me about what happened with Doug. And with Colter.”

He began to talk, filling her in about the mission to save their friend and his reunion with his brother. His voice always struck a chord down deep inside her, made her feel like her soul was attached to him in some way, and the warmth it sent through her helped soothe the dull ache of longing that it inflicted in almost equal measure.

She was still laughing a little at his description of his exploits with his brother as he headed to the fridge for more beer. He opened hers and set it down in front of her, asking his question as he sat down. “So – is there somebody waiting for you down there? In Fort Worth?”

She tilted her head, one eyebrow raised, a little surprised at his query. “Um – no. Nobody.” She avoided his eyes as she returned fire. “How about you?”

He chuckled a little, a crooked smirk on his lips as he answered. “I make do here and there. I’ve pretty much always had to just make do.” The smirk faded as he looked into her eyes. “Except with you. You’ve always been the one they can’t live up to.”

She bit at her lip thoughtfully, glancing away and then meeting his green eyes head on. “Yeah, and you’re the one I never should have said ‘yes’ to,” she said softly.

Russ ducked his head with a rueful smile. “Yeah, you’re probably right about that.” It was quiet for a minute, then he laughed softly. “Hey, remember that time in Kabul?”

Andi joined his laughter, nodding. “Yep. I was so much smarter back then.”

“Smart-ass. Yeah, and mean. Hurt a guy’s feelings, sayin’ shit like that. Not to mention the knee.”

“That was an accident.”

“Sure, it was,” he teased. “Guess I left you alone after that, though, so – mission accomplished.”

“That was back before I knew you so well.”

“We did start off a little rocky.”

They reminisced through the rest of their beer, then Andi stretched and stood up. “I’m gonna borrow your little boy’s room, and then I want to look at that bullet wound before I go. I’m guessing you haven’t changed the dressing today?”

“Haven’t gotten around to it,” he hedged, and she shook her head.

“Yeah. I figured. Be right back.”

She walked out of the bathroom just in time to see him peel off his t-shirt. “Bad idea, this was a bad idea,” she mentally scolded herself, then squared her shoulders and went to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Pretty sore?” she asked as he grimaced a little at the movement.

“It’s not too bad. I’ve had worse.”

“I know. I’ve bandaged them.”

“Well, I know you’ve got a more gentle touch than Colter, so I’m glad of that.”

She laughed, perching on the edge of the bed beside him and repositioning his arm to examine his wound. “I’m gonna clean this up a little, then I’ll wrap it for you again before I take off,” she said, grabbing an alcohol wipe from the first aid kit sitting beside them. He winced as she worked, as carefully as she could manage. Then she applied fresh gauze and wrapped his bicep again, trying to ignore the feelings that touching him were stirring up inside her. “There. That should hold you for a day or two. If you’re careful in the shower.”

She raised her head, and the look in his eyes made her pulse skip. “Thanks,” he said softly, and she nodded.

“You’re welcome.” He was still staring at her, so she busied herself putting the supplies back into the kit, until he leaned a little closer, breathing her name. He reached to brush her hair back from her neck, and she felt goosebumps bloom all over her body as his fingers touched her skin.

“Andi. Stay tonight.” He nuzzled his face into her hair. “Please.”

She leaned her head into his, her voice barely there when she finally spoke. “Damn you, Russ.”

He pulled back, letting his hand move to the back of her neck as he brushed his lips over hers. “That’s a yes, right?”

Andi laughed softly. “Yes, that’s a yes.”

He made a triumphant little face that made her giggle, then whispered, “Thank God,” before he kissed her for real.

He felt warm and solid beneath her hands as they roamed the muscular expanse of his back, his scars beneath her fingers a violent history, a unique braille that only those who have lived that life could read. She knew a lot of those scars intimately, had lived through them with him, had survived those events at his side. Remembering how close they had come to not making it home made this moment all the more intense, and she clung tightly to him as he laid her back on the bed.

He finally raised his head, her lips reluctantly parting from his, and he reached for the hem of her shirt, bracing himself on his good arm to help her work it up and over her head. She rolled slightly to give him access to her bra, and that joined her shirt on the floor as she laid back. His eyes roamed over her almost reverently before he bent to kiss her again, her breasts crushed to his chest as he rolled to his back, holding her close.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he muttered against her lips, then groaned as she sat up, his erection trapped underneath her. She grinned, circling her hips against him before moving down to straddle his thighs as she reached for his zipper. “Bad girl.”

“Or is it - ‘good girl?’” she teased, laughing softly as he sighed in relief as she unfastened his jeans. “Feel better?”

“Feels okay. Could feel better,” he coaxed, and she slipped her fingertips into the waistband of his boxers.

“Such a whiner.” She pulled his boxers down and playfully swatted the side of his hip, waiting for him to lift up so she could pull them down to his knees. She bent to kiss the head of his cock before sucking it gently into her mouth, humming as he threw his head back into the pillow, swearing softly. She worked him deeper and deeper, finally sucking hard as she pulled off to look up into his glassy-eyed gaze. “I missed you, too.”

He moved quickly, grabbing her by the shoulders and flipping her to her back again, hands busily unfastening her jeans, bending to suck a nipple into his mouth and teasing at it with his tongue. She buried her hands in his hair, back arching a little at the sparks of pleasure he sent through her. He tugged her jeans and panties down, leaving her for a moment to rid her of them completely and finish kicking his off as well. Then he crawled back up between her thighs and dropped a kiss to her mound, looking up with a wicked grin before moving down further.

God, he remembered every tiny thing that drove her mad, and in no time he had her writhing beneath him, her hands gripping his hair as she begged and called his name again and again. She flung her arms wide when she came, and before she stopped pulsing and shuddering, he moved up and pushed inside her to the hilt.

“Jesus, fuck, Russ!” she cried out, clutching wildly at his shoulders as he buried his face in her neck, holding himself in deep and riding out her orgasm. When she finally began to relax, he kissed the soft skin of her neck and throat, then finally her lips, their breath gently mingling as she calmed.

“Goddamn, that was amazing,” he whispered, and she smiled drunkenly up at him.

“You’re tellin’ me.” She shifted her hips a little, moaning softly. “You feel so good, baby.”

“Yeah? You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he murmured into their kiss, and she smiled.

“You’re so full of yourself,” she teased, and she felt his lips curve into a grin before he lifted himself up to look down at her.

“What a coincidence, so are you.” She giggled, then gasped as he drew back and drove deep, rocking into her with a relentless, delicious rhythm that stopped them both from speaking coherently. She wrapped her legs around his hips, meeting each thrust, clinging to him tight as their moans and sighs filled the room. She came hard, digging her nails into his back as her muscles seized, and after a few more frantic strokes, he joined her with a loud moan.

She held him, fingers combing through his hair as they laid there recovering, determined to enjoy every second they had together. She could deal with the reality of after when she left tomorrow. He stirred, his breath warm on her neck, his lips gentle as he kissed her there. “You are staying the whole night, right? So we can do that again?”

She smiled. “Yeah, I’m staying all night. You’re so needy.”

He chuckled, nipping at her before moving to roll to his back. “When it comes to you, I am.”

She didn’t bother reminding him that he could remedy that situation. That conversation was a hopeless circle, so she ignored the thought and rolled to her side into his waiting arms.

He was quiet the next morning, watching her dress as she readied herself to leave. She was avoiding his eyes, and he felt that familiar pang of guilt that he lived with every day for the pain he knew he brought her. Someday – someday he’d get to the point of being able to live with himself without escaping into dangerous, adrenaline-filled missions, but he had no right to expect her to be there when he did.

He crawled out of bed, pulling on his boxers and walking up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. She leaned back into him, a reluctant sigh escaping before she turned to face him. “Well, I guess I should hit the road. Long drive.”

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, then bent to kiss her softly. “Sure you’re okay to drive? Not like we got a lot of sleep last night.”

She looked up into his eyes and smiled. “Worth it. I’ll probably get a room somewhere partway, don’t worry about me.” He smiled back, kissing her again, this time until she finally put a hand to his chest and pushed away. “Okay. Gotta go.” She turned to grab her jacket, slipping it on as she moved towards the door. “It was really good to see you, Russ.”

“Great seeing you, too. Just be careful.” She nodded and opened the door, turning back as he spoke again. “Next time I see you, you’ll probably be with some great guy you’ll meet down there, all happy and settled down.”

She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her gaze lingering on his face one last time. “Nah. I’m not much for making do. I’ll probably just keep waiting for the real thing.” She raised a hand in a little wave and headed out the door, and he stood staring at it for a time before turning away.

After a long, hot shower, he stood at the bathroom counter removing the plastic he had wrapped around his arm to protect his bandages. He looked up and met his reflection’s gaze in the mirror, and they stared at each other for a few long seconds before he frowned at himself. “Fuckin’ idiot,” he muttered, hitting the switch to turn off the light and leaving the room.

Tags for my lovelies: 

 @saenalife    @deanscarlett    @jensensgotyoudean    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog 

   @geeklibrarian    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid      @mrswhozeewhatsis    @littlegreenplasticsoldier    @sleep-silent-angel  

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        @savingapplepie-eatingthings    @kittenofdoomage    @masked-maiden42    @lean-mean-deanwinchester    @ericuhlorain  

  @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester    @typicalweirdbookworm          @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit    @youtoldalie 

   @tanithlowisabamf-blog    @deandoesthingstome    @jxackles    @nerdwholikesword    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic  

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 @ioanashalala    @jencharlan    @deansthirstblog     @dorky-and-i-know-it    @mischief-maker1   

 @winchestersandwordprocessors    @percussiongirl2017    @bringmesomepie56   @akshi8278    @torn-and-frayed  

  @sandlee44   @wingedcatninja  @evansrogerskitten   @emoryhemsworth  @peaceinourtime82 

 @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior  @sarcasmqueen74   @maliburenee     @mrsjenniferwinchester   @yeehawbitchs  

 @emily-winchester  @hobby27    spnbaby-67

[qhoaaaa]

"Bit, uh, hung... isn't it, Sweetheart?"

Milo/Sweetheart - "One Size Fits All" Poll Winner!

18+ - MINORS DNI

CW: unprotected sex

Milo huffed as he sunk into the couch, body practically going limp against the cushions. The fire crackled in front of him, his mate nowhere to be found. Despite how tired he should be, having gotten back from a long job, he's feeling pretty energized. No wonder gigs always rack in during the winter, being Moonbound and all that. All that energy from the Solstice is still lingering, Milo closes his eyes and tries to lean into the couch, seeking any bit of relaxation. He grumbles when he hears the footsteps of his beloved. Their soft socks sliding against the wood floor, they stop in front of the fireplace and Milo peeks his eyes open. A devious smile creeps on his face as he watches them bend down, eyeing a certain ass, as they open the chain curtains to each side.

His eyes glaze over their body, outlining their thin sweats that catch at their knee, interrupted by the long cloth of their sweater. Though, his senses long to see some of their skin, his eyes don't catch any, much to his chagrin. His smile remains, softening, when they kneel and grab wood with their bare hand. There's another crackle and thud as the log is chucked into the fireplace. A rattle echos as they close the chains again, they check over their hand for splinters and finally stand up. His eyes shut as they turn to look at him.

They try not to notice his moving eyes under his eyelids, chuckling as they say, "Not your best work, Milo."

He groans, "Not my fault you've got such good eyes, Sweetheart."

He straightens himself on the couch, now looking at his mate. They smile at him, then walk to the couch. His hands are immediately on their waist as they sit, thick, warm hands felt through the fabric. He's practically laying on their chest, his hands sliding into a loose hug around them. He presses his cheek against their collarbone, a quick kiss at their skin. He feels their hands rub up and down on his back, resulting in a relaxed hum.

"Welcome home," they say, kissing his forehead as he shuffles even more, getting increasingly comfortable with them around now.

He mumbles from their neck, "Ya smell good," another lazy kiss at their jugular, "M'tired..."

He makes a loud grumble, eyes closed against their skin, breathing slow. He's not asleep, just enjoying their comfort. They hear the intake of air as he tries to defend himself not being tired, but quickly shuts his mouth, pressing his face closer into them. Now that he's relaxed, they finally acknowledge the scene. They observe the melted spots on the floor: snow. His sodden work boots clumsily stacked over each other at the foot of the couch, a wet puddle formed around them, and his embroidered jacket thrown carelessly on the ground, a seemingly makeshift attempt to throw it on the coffee table. Their hands press down on his shirt, of which he squirms at. Its a regular black long-sleeved shirt, with the gold stitches noticeable at the collar, shoulders and wrists. They smell his signature cologne, citrus and pine, now washed off with a hint of petrichor.

Their hands continue to press his sides, he stirs, "What'cha doing, Sweetheart?" They relish in the fact that he doesn't pull away from them, how safe he must feel in their arms. They can't help a smile grow on their face.

"Were you in the snow?"

"As astute as ever, baby."

They snort, fingers moving to tickle him. He grunts, rather dog-like, noises sputtering into a laugh as his Sweetheart mercilessly tickles his sides. His hands blindly reach for their wrists, he stammers quips of surrender. Seconds later, they stop and Milo removes his face from their neck, looking up at them with glossy eyes and a smile that could light up this damn living room if the fire wasn't on. It's a look that speaks a thousand words, of love, admiration, security, any kind of sappiness Milo would usually make fun of. But with Milo, every word is sincere. Every action solidifies that, especially when it comes to his mate.

He chuckles into their kisses as they lean down, lips pressing, teeth biting and eventually the two get lost in each other's kisses. Both of them feel heated, ears burning, touches getting more sensitive with Milo's cold body and his mate's warm embrace - their gasps give away all of that. They didn't expect him to be so reactive tonight, but that would have to be saved for later. Milo draws out a hot sigh from them as his hands reach under their shirt, the cold of his palms making them shiver, either from arousal or temperature, they can't tell. Their body arches into him, Milo feels the curve of their skin bump into his chest, he can't help but let out a delicious groan. Milo reaches up to plant his lips right at the middle of their neck, he feels them swallow as his canines poke into them. Their head is leaned back, eyes dark with need and affection, looking at the ceiling. The room is scarcely aglow with fire, darkness and heat is all they need to drive each other to their limits. And how those limits have been tested before, well, they will be tested again tonight. Their hands grip his waist upon feeling him bite a little harder. They pat his side, he registers this and pulls away, soothing the bite with kisses. They pant as they pull away from each other, regulating their breathing as Sweetheart still pats his shirt.

Milo scoffs, voice high in amusement, "What else are you looking for? I mean if you want me to take off my shirt, just ask me, baby."

Then, they find it. Wet spots all over the front of his shirt and on the hem of his pants. They don't know how they didn't catch it sooner, though his lips are a very good distraction.

They sigh, "What did you do today?" Theres a hint of laughter in their tone, mixed with their confusion of how wet their werewolf is.

"Eh, we had some kinda wedding gig out in the snow. Whatever maniacs decided to get hitched in the cold is beyond me. Hell, I swear I saw a kid ready to hurl a snowball at the groom! And not to mention, Asher was his detail, so I don't know if he would've let the thing fly like Bard with the Black Arrow or what!? Luckily, the little menace saw David and freaked out. But at the afterparty, I was expecting them all to finally get inside the damn venue but no! That same kid got a snowball and threw it at Asher! So, lo and behold, your man is here all wet and freezing because Ash decided to have a wedding-wide snowball fight. Even got the officiant in it too, geez!"

Sweetheart laughs along with Milo, following his story about how someone objected to the wedding because the groom was "too short". Milo snaps back with that his height could be compensating for something else. The two of them swap stories for their day, Sweetheart got home after work and took care of things around the house while waiting for Milo to come home. Upon mention, Aggro is sleeping soundly somewhere around the house. There's the scent of melted candles scattered around as well, Sweetheart figured it would be a long day for Milo with how early he left this morning, so they lit candles to help the ambiance. Milo has always appreciated their care for things, be it a candle or something even more minuscule, they'll do their most to make Milo feel at ease at home, with them. And he's always given his best to return those favors, it's acts of service that make this pair of mates match together so well. It seems like they've been talking for hours when its time to head to bed. Their bed, together. The fire has dimmed to embers at this point, so they leave it to die down. Sweetheart kisses his cheek and moves to get up, mentioning that they're going to clean up before heading to bed.

Milo tries to argue, saying that the pools of melted snow are his mess, but they're already up before he can grab them and pull them into his lap. He has no choice but to watch them walk around the house with a smile on their face, as they grab his boots and jacket, putting them away and getting other objects to clean. Milo looks out the screen door, watching the snow fall. He hears the shuffle of their socks against the floor as they move around. He observes the small mountain of snow outside in their backyard, smirking at it. Maybe he thought of having his own snowball fight with his mate. Him poorly hiding behind one of the heaters as his mate lands a snowball at his shoulder. Him running to them, shoving them into the mountain of snow. And maybe a few kisses after that, who knows? His thoughts grow as the shuffling behind him stops. A crackle of the wood brings him back and he turns around. There they are, his Sweetheart, his mate, standing there with a smile. Its just as warming as a fire, the glow of the fickle flames dancing in their eyes. Milo could melt on the spot, his Core swelling with pride and love. His life changed that day he caught them sneaking into his apartment. It changed for the better once he asked them to be his mate. All these years later and he wouldn't change a thing.

They reach a hand out for him, "Lets go to bed, yeah?"

Sweetheart is waiting for Milo in bed, laying on top of the sheets, reading a book. There's a lamp on their side of the bed, illuminating just enough for them to read. Milo is finishing up brushing his teeth, baring his teeth to eye his canines. He slides his tongue over them, closing his jaw with a satisfied noise. He washes his face and walks into the bedroom, the both of them have already changed for sleep. He eyes Sweetheart, watching their eyes flicker across the page, their eyebrows raise slightly from something from the book. Milo flicks the bathroom light off, approaching the bed. Sweetheart's smile grows as they see him approach from the corner of their eye.

"Hi, handsome."

"What are ya doing?"

"Reading."

"I see that. Thought you were tired?"

They look up at him. The book closes with a small thud and they place it somewhere on the bed, away from them.

With a sly smile, they say, "Moonbound, won't be tired for a while."

"Is that so?" Milo looks down at them, interest in his eyes.

They laugh, "You should know. What do you think happened last Solstice? We made quite a mess of that loft, if I remember correctly."

He rolls his head, "Mmm, yeah, I remember. You, uh, alluding to something, Sweetheart?"

They don't answer, giving a silent laugh as Milo inspects them closely. They're wearing the same sweater as they were earlier. Its loose and knitted, and he can see small openings of the fabric, welcoming his eyes to small windows of their skin. They aren't wearing anything under, just a pair of sleep shorts, his ears flush with heat just at their clothes alone, intention very much noticed. His eyes go up, eyeing their neck and the small pokes he left earlier.

"You gonna look, or are you gonna do something?"

Don't have to tell him twice. Milo slowly walks around the bed and gets on, landing on the space between their legs, pushed up right against their ass. He pushes the book off of the bed, hands creeping up to his mate's loose sweater. His hands go under, feeling their soft skin. They roll their shoulders, smiling at his touch. He feels them roll their hips, and he slides his hands down to their sides. They bark a laugh as he tickles them, rolling their hips even more, rubbing against a certain spot on his crotch. He knows what he's doing. He stops, moving to remove his shirt and tossing it on the floor. He's left in sweats, while his mate has too many clothes on. While taking off his shirt, Milo's chain catches on the cloth and he takes that off. He debates for a quick second, if he should put it on the nightstand or on them. His train of thought is broken when Sweetheart calls his name. He looks at them and reaches over, pressing a kiss to their ear and jaw as he slides the chain onto them. He whispers an "I love you" right in their ear, making them shiver almost instantaneously. Milo plants a hand on the bed, near their shoulder as his mate kisses him softly. They pull back with a smile, of which he replies with knocking his forehead against theirs. He chuckles as he covers their cheek in kisses, then sits back up. He keeps eyeing their sweater, and then gets an idea.

Milo grabs the sweater again, and then drags it over him. It takes him a bit but soon he and his mate are fitted in the same sweater. Sweetheart laughs at the commotion of Milo mumbling to himself at the size of the thing. His shuffling stops and they jump a little when they hear him whisper, "Think you can flip over, baby?" They nod and, although awkward, they flip over onto their back. Seeing their face, Milo kisses them properly, a groan releasing from his throat. Sweetheart grazes their fingers against his cheek as he deepens the kiss. Eyes closing, Milo and Sweetheart adjust their bodies to each other. Milo has his thighs encompassing theirs, perfect for him to grind his growing hard on into them. Their legs are up, hand holding Milo's cheek while the other is held down by one of his hands. His grip isn't hard, but just enough for him to assert how this is going to play out... or so he thought.

When Milo pulls away, he bites their lip quickly, pulling the skin gently. A teasing nip as they pant, eyes glossy as they look all over him. They move their head up, exposing their neck to Milo. He presses a wet kiss right under their ear, trailing down the vein. He can hear their heartbeat with every kiss, and it quickens when he starts to grind into them. He's earned a light gasp, but that's not enough for him. He wants more, to hear more, to make them sweat and moan under him. He sighs in their ear, wanting them to hear how fucked up they get him. How they ruin him, spoil him with their love. The grinding gets intense, deeper and rougher thrusts. He can feel their thighs tense inside his crotch, squeezing right near the thick bulge beneath his briefs and sweats. They're much closer now, skin to skin, arms around each other as Milo's thrusts stutter in pace for a bit. Sighs and gasps now turned into words of affection and moans of desire.

He groans, "Fuck... haah, look what you're doing to me, Sweetheart... Ohh, shit, I gotta stop, I don't wanna-!"

He yelps as Sweetheart somehow manages to flip their position, rolling on the bed until he's under them now. Milo pants as he sees them on top, his cock missing the friction but also enjoying the rush. He closes his thighs, he swears that if there's any more foreplay, he's gonna bust without having actually done anything. That's the affect they have on him, and he savors it like no other. He sees his chain dangle around their neck, licking his lips.

He cracks a smile at them, "What are... what are you gonna do, Detective?" He looks up at them with expectation, their mate bond flourishing in heat as they say, "Inspect every inch of you, with my hands, my tongue, my teeth," they lean into his ear, "I'll see what I can do until you're spent. Are you gonna be good for me, Milo?" He nods vigorously as they pull away, staring down at him with piercing eyes, the same eyes that he's fallen for, the same eyes that make him weak in the knees.

They press an innocent kiss to his nose, they both laugh, his heart beating faster as he watches them move down, kissing all over his chest. He hisses at the feel of the cold chain against his skin, beaming with heat. He lets out a loud gasp when their lips close against a nipple. He tries to look down at them but he can't, the damn sweater blocking that gorgeous view of his mate going down on him. He pants as their tongue swirls around his nipple, whispering their name when they suck on it. A pop sound is heard as they pull away, kissing his pec and then moving on to the other nipple. He squirms under them, getting louder at the feel of their hand trailing fingernails down his torso, abdomen and then over his bulge. He whispers their name over and over, feeling their hand squeeze and start to rub his bulge through his sweats. They remove their mouth from his nipple, both sopping wet with their saliva. Their eyes meet as they rub him, his hands laid back near his head, not even moving as he's overcome with pleasure. Dark eyes, deep with lust reflect onto each other. Without looking, Sweetheart moves their hand under his sweats, pressing their thumb at a wet spot, circling it. He groans louder, eyes not leaving theirs.

He's giving it all to them, leaving his pleasure on display for his mate, like how they've done for him so many times, and he fucking loves it.

He nearly whimpers when they remove their hand, crawling back up to kiss him sloppily. He groans into their mouth, rewarding them with noise. Because they've earned it, they've so fucking earned it. He requests for them to take off his sweats, whispering in need for more than touch, he needs to be inside them. But if they want to be on top, then who is he to deny them. They acknowledge his request, before going down once more. Milo sees their body flicker, then turn fully invisible. He chuckles, delightfully overwhelmed with how they are tonight. He feels the hem of his sweats get pulled and then snap against his thigh, he jolts at the impact and raises his hips. He watches his sweats and briefs get pulled off, so slowly that it makes him ache. He hears echos of their chuckles, as if their voice had been thrown across the room. He sucks through his teeth as his cock, full and erect, is exposed to the chill air. There's a brief pause, he can't see them so he doesn't know what they're doing.

"Are ya teasing me, Sweetheart? Come on, hah, or uh, am I too big for you? Bit, uh, hung... isn't it, Sweetheart?" He stares off at the space where he hopes they're at, but any thoughts of his are dissipated as he feels a warmth swallow his cock.

He groans loudly, feeling himself pulse and throb inside. Fucking finally. He growls as he scarcely sees his cock get wet deeper and deeper, pitch heightening as he feels something wet along the underside. Its their mouth, and their tongue. He feels a vibration coming from their mouth, it just riles him up even more. He feels like he's on fire, but also electric. He manages to slide the sweater off of him, dropping it off the bed and sees his mate in their fully glory. He sees their body come back into view when they deep throat his cock, then fade away again when they bob up. Its like a ripple, he can't help but get lost in his senses. During these flickers, his eyes try to explore any part of skin he can see from them and his need for them heightens when he sees them playing with themself. He feels like he's on the edge now after seeing that.

He muffles a groan as he says, "Swe- wait, Sweetheart, I'm gonna..."

They remove themself from his cock, lapping at the tip before rippling back into view once more. He gapes at their face, saliva around their mouth, pupils blown wide and legs twitching as they continue to play with themself.

"You look so fucking beautiful, baby..." He stammers, taking in everything. Their scent, the messy way they look, the hunger in their eyes.

They huff, catching their breath, "You ready, Milo?" He chuckles, "Fuck yes..."

They come back down for more kisses, they don't even bother to wipe off their saliva. His hungry lips nip at their neck once they're in range, touching their body like its the last thing he'll ever do. Once they're both ready, Sweetheart coos, "I love you." He breaks into a wide smile, "Mmm, I love you too." Milo lays back down and Sweetheart sits up, hovering above his cock, legs around his for support. Milo looks down at his cock, wet and pristine and throbbing for release.

"You... you gonna ride me, Sweetheart? Mmm? Claim me? Claim this wolf as yours?" He huffs, looking expectantly at them.

They place a hand on his chest, above his heart and his fingers grip their wrist, "Yes."

Milo fights to not cum immediately as they lower themself onto him. They keep their hand at his heart, he whispers words of affirmation that they can take him, all of him. Soon, they're all the way at the base. He whispers, "Sweetheart?" They look at him, nodding that they're okay. Milo remarks at their own wetness, which prompts them to use their fingers to play with their own tip. As they bounce on his cock, he notices their legs shaking, they've been denying themself to cum as well. Then, Sweetheart leans forward, using their hips to roughly fuck down on him. Their voice shakes in and out of sound itself, face hovering over Milo's as he witnesses them unravel on top of him, for him. They both aren't going to last much longer.

Milo uses his hips to fuck into his mate, both rewarding the other with noises that could shatter the damn windows. Milo groans louder when a wet smacking sound comes into play, he looks down to see that their on the edge, wetness splayed all over each other's thighs and cores. They move faster, Milo starts huffing and groaning when they both approach their climax. Sweetheart kisses him deeply for the final thrusts, tongue swirling in his mouth, his hands holding them close as their bodies shiver and shake, their throats only echo their noises in each other's heads.

"Thank you for that, Sweetheart. Fucking amazing, every time."

After a few minutes of cooling down, Sweetheart pulls away and removes themself off of his cock. They shudder as his cum spills a little from inside of them. They roll down onto the bed, spent and panting. Milo is the same, he catches his breath and smiles when he hears them start to giggle. He rolls over and cuddles them, holding their waist loosely. His fingers slide over their abdomen, their body twitches at the contact. He spends a few minutes rubbing and touching their body, easing them down from such a performance. They look back at him, happy but also tired, eyes blinking with a smile on their cute face. They shuffle closer to him, protected in his arms. They turn their head to nuzzle into his hair, "Can't even move my legs." Milo chuckles, "Mmm, good thing we don't have anything to do tomorrow then. I'll spend all day pampering you this time, Sweetheart." He presses a kiss to their jaw, hand on their torso, watching it rise and fall as their breathing steadies. He smirks, "What a way to warm up, eh?" They loosely try to hit him, resulting in light laughter and him grabbing their hand to kiss their palm and wrist.

Milo and Sweetheart clean up, with Milo getting up to grab a towel and for any other necessities. When they come back to bed, Milo has his head leaned on their shoulder. They stand right at the bed frame, he cups their face and softly kisses them. They smile at him and tap his chest, telling him to get in bed. They cuddle once more, now cleaned up but still naked in each other's arms. Right before Sweetheart falls asleep, Milo says:

------

Happy Leap Day (released right at 11:59 💀)yall lmaoo 💜😊 hope you enjoy n whatnot

[romirola]

RSVP (A Redactedverse Oneshot)

My half of a fic/art exchange with @cupgoose! Thanks for the opportunity to participate, friend! I love having the chance to share work with the fandom. Exchanges are all about creation and community. <3 Hope you enjoy!

Prompts: Asher/Babe, “where we can watch their relationship dynamic shift and develop before they’re actually together”

Read RSVP on AO3 here!

Rating: T; WC: ~3K; Characters: Asher, Babe, David; Pairing: Asher/Babe

Summary: Shortly after their elevator meeting, Babe and Asher navigate their current status with each other and reflect on their past relationship experiences. Oddly enough, it’s David’s (oblivious) comment that forces Babe and Asher to find the courage to admit their true feelings.

Tags: Early Relationship, Mutual Pining, Love, Attraction, Falling in Love, Idiots in Love, Worries, Insecurities, Past Relationship Trauma, Self-Consciousness, Babe is Feeling Things, Asher Is Trying So Hard, David is Oblivious, Flirting, Communication, Vulnerability, Honesty, Emotions, Jinx, Wedding Invitation Drama, Relationship Growth, Kissing, Fic/Art Exchange, Oneshot, Gender-Neutral Babe

Thanks for reading! Any and all feedback is welcome and cherished!

[jackiequick]

Meet The Crew | Fast Five Fanfic 🇧🇷

Pairing: Brian O’Conner x Mia Toretto, Han x Soffi

Pre-relationship: Valentina Toretto x Deckard Shaw

Setting: Fast Five (2011)

Summary: Being the run for more than 2 years going from country to country, city to city, just to run away and survive. But what happens when Dom comes up with a plan to get their lives on track? Steal from the biggest man in Brazil. Then your gonna need a crew.

Characters: Dom, Brian, Mia, Tej, Roman, Val and etc.

Click here to see information for the rest of her story.

——

The last few days have ran cold. After arriving in Brazil, everything took a turn and keeping bigger lives at stack.

First with Val finding out what Mia is pregnant, having not told Brian yet. Then the heist they went on that Vince planned going haywire with Val, Dom and Brian getting caught then running to the safe house. To the argument between everyone on Vince not playing fair, where he left to go do his own thing.

And now!

They were being chased by policemen and Reye’s men across the streets and on top of the building finding themselves hiding out. Dom wanted to spilt up until Mia announced that it wasn’t the best idea.

Brian agreed with Dom, until Val said, “Tell ‘em sis..”

“I’m pregnant.” She said with a smile, out of breath from running across the bay.

Dom and Brian were shocked but happy. Hell, Brian was overwhelmed with joy fulling his best girl into a kiss. Val told them that they needed to stick together cause they’re family just got bigger.

It was settled that night by the boys while the girls slept that they had to stop running now. Make a life for themselves. So it was made to get their earning attention and some cash. Buy they’re freedom.

But they needed a team.

The next day, they planned as well as they could looking above the city.

“Okay let’s run through the basics.” Brian said leaning against his girl with a smile.

“First we need a chameleon. Someone who can blend in.” Dom said winking at Val and added, “Anywhere and can handle themselves.”

Soffi and Han were on they’re mind from the last heist.

“What else?” Mia asked.

“Hmm. A fast talker.” Dom said, “Someone who can bullshit they’re way out of anything.”

“I got that!” Brian announced with a smile.

His mind went to Roman.

“This guy has a lot of surveillance, so we need someone who’s good with circuits.” Mia added, meaning Tej could do the job.

“And with those circuits, Reyes is gonna have walls. We’re gonna need guys to punch through those walls.” Val told them with a nod.

Leo and Santos could do it.

“Hmm. Weapons and utilities.” Val added smiling.

Giselle was skilled for that.

“And last but not least. Two precision drivers. Two guys who won’t crack under pressure.” Dom said with such pride in his voice and a grin at only grew by the second.

“Oh you know we got that!” Brain repiled with a teasing grin that match his friends.

That left Val and Mia with research and experienced planning.

———

24 hours later. The team came together.

Roman and Tej walked in jokingly insulting each other.

“When you gonna give Martin Luther King his car back?” Roman asked, putting his bag down.

Tej scoffed, “As soon as you give Rick James his jacket back.”

They both cracked a smile, giving one another a bro hug. That was when a motorcycle rolled in, parking right in front of them. It was a women who was riding. The said women got off, removing her helmet as she shake her hair with hearing the guys.

“Sexy legs babygirl, what time they open?” Roman asked with a half smirk.

That was when a handheld gun landed right in between they’re faces, resulting in both men to back up a second.

“They open the same time i pull this trigger. Want me to open them?” Said Giselle with a small grin.

As if on cue, Leo and Santos walked in joking around in Spanish. Roman felt offended as him and Santos started bickering. Tej and Leo brought themselves into the conversation too as Giselle rolled her eyes.

“I thought cock fight were illegal in Brazil.” Han said walking with his girlfriend who smiled at his comment.

“I guess not.” Add Soffi with a smile, glancing up at Giselle.

That was when Dom announced himself with a smile, “I see you all met!” Mia, Val and Brian walked in behind him greeting they’re friends.

Val and Mia ran into Leo and Santos arms for a tight hug, having not seen each other in a while. Brian noticed Soffi standing off to the side, grinning to introduce himself.

“Hey.” He said with a toothy grin, welcoming her to the group.

“Hi..” She replies with a soft smile, noticing a warmth to the blonde that eased her.

“I heard about you.”

“R-really? F-from who?”

“Dom. He talks a lot about his time in the D.R. He said you and Han help him pull a heist there.”

“Oh yeah! It was burning there but we got the job done. I just don’t know why we were called here. I mean, what can i do to help?”

“Dom and his sister said you were like a chameleon. Trying to handle the situation and blend into the crowd?”

That was when Dom spoke over them saying they got a job to do, leading them to a group to debrief. Brian and Dom explained their target along the issues as everyone cut into the conversation.

“Sounds crazy. You brings us to a whole other country so we can rob the dude who runs it? I thought this was business, sounds personal to me. Is this was it is? I got love for y’all but personal ain’t good business. I can’t do this homie.” Roman said turning to walk out.

Val shared a smirk with her brother as she said, “So what we’re talking about is 100 million dollars.”

That’s when Roman stopped in his tracks, spinning around flabbergasted as he exclaimed, “Y-you say wha-? A-a-huna—you see sometimes i be overthinking man. And i know we just met girl, but you just kinda gotta..”

“Roman stop talking.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Soffi couldn’t help but snort at his reaction, being a little surprised herself by the announcement of that much money. Brian shared a smile with Mia as Dom kept explaining saying whatever they can take, they split it evenly. It surprised everyone.

Then Soffi stopped to think and spoke up, “As soon as you hit the first one. They’re gonna do everything they can to protect them.”

Giselle and Han added something else, as everyone nodded to their reason.

“Exactly.” Dom simply said with a smile, planning on what to do.

With that being said, the guys went to Reyes underground place to make themselves known, that they mean business. Burning his money and coming up with the next part of the plan. As well as keeping eyes on the police department scanners. Then the plans were set into motion.

The guys did the heavy duty part like breaking into police station to see the safe they would steal, placing extra cameras around town, and searching for extra ways to get around the city. Han and Val even ordered in a replica of the safe to replace with during the heist.

Because he’s hella rich.

Roman was eating while watching them work. Tej looked over his shoulder to see Val sitting by the stairs holding a pin and needle. She was pulling some fabric together, having a placement made for their safe.

“Girl what are you doing?” Tej asked, holding up his stack of paperwork.

“Isn’t it obvious? Tini is going to the beach later haha!” Roman exclaimed with a laugh, which earned him a glare.

“Who told you that nickname?” Val said glaring at him playfully.

“Brian. I think he told the others too.”

“Remind me to whoop his ass later.”

“What? Its cute!”

“What’s cute?” Said a voice that belong to Soffi, who was snacking on a bag of chips.

“Tini!” Roman yelled.

“Who’s Tini?”

“Vally over here!”

Val groaned shared a look with Tej who snorted at her annoyance.

It clicked for Soffi as she gasped with a smile, “That’s you nickname? I didn’t know that!”

“I’mma kill Brian..” She muttered, “Only he ever used that nickname before. Now y’all know.”

Tej chuckled, “Welcome to my world! Roman will never shut up about it now.”

“It’s cute! I-I like it.” Soffi said, noticing the fabric in her hand, “Uh, w-what’s with the bikini? A-are you going to beach?”

“That’s what i said!” Roman yelled once again chuckling, “If so babygirl, can i come?”

“No, I ain’t going to be beach. Someone else will. Since Tej said the safe needs Reyes fingerprints, and we can’t exactly get them..” Val said, looking at the tech genius.

“…you’re gonna swipe his handprints to use it against the piggy bank’s system. Smart girl!” Tej said, finishing her sentence.

“Exactly! Han and Soffi are up.”

“Wait seriously? R-right now?” Soffi said, looking over her shoulder to see Han.

He leaning against the wall with a smirk hearing his name as he chatted with Giselle.

“Nice. I like the easy stuff.” Han added with a smirk and kissing his girlfriend’s cheek, “See you outside babe.”

“I-i-wait! Han! Ugh!”

“Time to work our magic baby!”

He walked out with a grin that made her blush. Roman and Tej teased the girl for blushing. Soffi was a little confused about the actions she would take until Val pulled her aside into a room to change. Soffi was gonna wear the purple bikini and Giselle was gonna be there in the background as back up, just in case.

But it was her case to do.

She was a little worried it won’t go well however she saw the look in Val’s eye. A look of bravery and courage that would result in confidence for the task.

Val even joked, “Honey i seen you in action. It’s easy.”

“Alright, alright. Give me the towel.” Soffi replies joking, snatching the towel out of her hands and run out.

All Val can do was laugh as she went back to hanging out with Tej and Roman. She knew Soffi, Han and Giselle would get the job done they’re own way, but it was time for that to wait.

However that didn’t mean Val wasn’t gonna have some fun herself, heading out to buy extra drinks and catching a ride to the exact spot where Giselle told there they would be.

She stayed nearby the palm tree with Giselle watching them, reading the room then quickly walked away.

Han was snacking on some chips and chatting with Soffi who sipped her drink. They were eyeing Reye and the group on the high deck of the guesthouse across of the low end the beach. The pair were flirting and chuckling, wondering what was the man’s plan.

“I make six bodyguards.” Han said, glancing over his the guest shoulder.

“Seven.” Soffi added watching them, “The guy with the fanny pack is a tourist.”

“You think we should stay here after this is over?”

“Sure! I like the beaches here but you should watch your habits first.”

“Huh? What did i do?”

“You quit smoking, babe. I’m happy you did! But the snacks you were eating today, a lot more than usual.”

“I know. I’m handling it. I’m getting better.”

“I know and I’m glad you are.”

Han noticed the men on the stairs and sighed, “Well this is a real bust. We can’t get his fingerprints out here. Call Val, do some more reconstruction on the plan.”

“No..I don’t want to do that.” Soffi said, looking at the house and her outfit for a moment.

“She will understand. Giselle is here, we can try to do something else as we figure something out.”

“Or..um..uh-l-let me t-try something here. P-please?”

“Y-you sure?”

“Y-yeah. Watch out for me.”

Soffi took a breath, not wasting a second as she let the towel fall off her body and onto the floor. She smiled to herself feeling good swaying her hips walking away from the table in her purple bikini.

At that same time, Giselle followed beside her with a wink wearing her own valued bikini.

Han was left with his jaw dropped onto the ground, his fingertips stopped before ever reaching his mouth with the bag of nuts. He smiled softly to himself, biting his lower lip chuckling.

“Damn.” He muttered to himself.

The man speechless in place as both women walked over to the open house party, past the guardsmen smiling.

Soffi sat on the armrest of the chair where Reyes sat with a smile, as Giselle rested her hands on the shoulder of Reyes friends. She laughed at his jokes. Meanwhile Soffi smiled chatting with Reyes as he placed his hand on her bottom against the fabric of the bikini.

Han raised an eyebrow at his movements, rolled his eyes at the action with a grin.

She got the handprint.

“Nice.” Han muttered with a nod, waiting for them to finish to head over to the beach.

———

Later on the trio returned back to the bunker to find Roman and Tej working on the vault. They were confused once they returned with nothing but two bikinis in hand. One purple and one red.

Both men looked confused. Until Soffi lit a flashlight over the bikinis Giselle and Han were holding. Two handprints for extra measurements. In result the guys smirked and joked.

Tej smirked, “So did he just smack the ass or did he grab and hold on to it?”

Roman laughed as Soffi smirked waving the flashlight at both men jokingly.

————

Some stuff happened afterwards. Almost getting caught by the cops resulting in them putting a tracking on their trucks and testing how fast they were in the cars for the heist drifting away as quick as possible. But no one was fast enough, but it’s because they need certain cars to get past the city with ease.

Police cars.

So the boys went off, expect for Santos and Leo, to search for them. Meanwhile the girls stayed by relaxing, chatting about what they would do with their money.

Giselle wanted to go sightseeing without watching her back. Valentina wished for the ability to travel the word and have her own small adventure. Soffi wanted to open up a small shop to bake and sell her favorite treats, using the money left over for something special. Mia just wanted to relax at a small beach house and have her own little thing going on before she left to go to the store.

If only they could clear they’re names just as quickly.

By the same time she returned from the store as the boys did. They were racing in cop cars, with Brian winning against Dom. But Mia returned with a certain someone. Vince.

Everyone stood up in defense and confusion about his return. Some didn’t even know who Vince was but stood up to protest against against the man. Mia was trying to explain what exactly happened as they thankfully listened.

But Val was ready to pounce at Vince, it took Soffi and Tej to hold her back as she yelled at her oldest friend. Brian was about to get in Vince’s face wanting some more answers until Dom shut both of them up. Calling his oldest friends over to help him fix the car to talk, letting everyone cool down and allow Vince to eventually join in their plans.

Eventually everyone did. Cooking dinner for one another, bringing out more chairs and couches to sit on, extra tables and a radio. Some sat around tinkering with items, Dom was fixing one of the cars with Vince and Brian meanwhile Roman, Tej and Han talked. Everyone was speaking with the idea what would they do with their millions of dollars.

—————

Everyone had plenty of ideas. Some traveling, going to Las Vegas, getting cooking classes, buying houses and so much more. Tej wanted to start his own business to fix cars and not let people get ripped off.

“You peoples dreams are to start day jobs?!” Roman exclaimed, looking at them like they crazy.

Mostly looking Tej like he was just talking crazy for suggesting that idea in the first place.

Soffi crossed her arms, “What’s so wrong about that, Roman?”

“Everything! Y’all got money, use to the buy luxury gifts and items like you couldn’t afford before.” Roman said, sipping his drink.

“So what will you do then, Roman?” Valentina added, standing next to her friends with Giselle behind her grinning.

So in result the man explained how he do plenty of things, from buying himself suits to his very own plane. All the girls smirked and laughed, teasing Roman that they will try to steal the planes and jets for they’re own plans. Tej and a few of the others rolled their eyes chuckling.

Val grinned saying she will use Roman’s jets to travel the world and such. From Italy to Cuba to Hawaii and a sweet return to the Dominican Republic. Soffi and Giselle saying they will join her, suggesting France as well. A mini girls trip, including Mia and the others.

Roman jokingly got offended and rolled his eyes teasing them back, going to get everyone refills as they waited for dinner to be served. However once he stopped at Brian and Mia, he got hella confused. Mia kept saying she can’t drink and Brian insisted, leaving Roman with odd look on his face.

Until Brian rubbing his girlfriend’s nonexistent bump as Roman’s eyes lit up. It clicked.

“Ohh! Are you serious right now?” Roman exclaimed with bug eyes and a cheeky grin turning to Dom, “Is that the reason you let him beat you in the quarter mile? Hahaha that was a baby gift!”

Mia was giggling brightly.

Brain looked at his best friend, trying to defend himself and said, “No, that’s messed up.”

“That was a baby gift.” Roman repeated with a growing grin

“No, your not taking that from me.”

Tej walked up with a smirk acting all chill and asked, “Wait wait wait, hold on a second. So, did he just smack that ass or did he grab it?”

Val smirked bursting into laughter as she rubbed Brian’s shoulder jokingly and walked over to Dom. She grinned seeing they’re friends all congratulate Brian and Mia on the pregnancy.

Mia stayed hugging Soffi and Giselle the longest.

“Baby gift, huh?” She asked teasing him smiling, “Wanna explained?”

Brian followed behind her giving Dom a look, wondering the same thing as they both shared a matching smile.

“Baby gift?” Brian repeated.

“I have no idea what they’re talking about.” Dom replies with a smile, shrugging.

“Yeah sure.” Val added.

Once everything died down still celebrating the new, Dom called everyone to circle back for he can give a small toast.

Everyone chuckled, giving small smile to each other and leaned against the other person enjoying the moment.

Each member had a drink in their hands as they looked up to listen to the man who put all of this together.

Dom took a breath took as he look around the room and then spoke, “Money all come and go, you know that. But the most important thing in life will always be the people in this room. Right here. Right now. Salute mi familia.”

“Salute.” Said everyone raising their beer bottles, as you heard the light cling once they were brought together in a circle.

Everyone smiles, some sipping their drinks and others lean against the person next to them for a tight squeeze.

It was real.

They’re all here in Brazil.

Together.

And they’re finish off the week pulling off an heist.

It’s gonna be nuts.

Thank you so much for reading this fic! It’s one of my favorite films and it was a great treat to toss theses characters into it.

What did you think about it? Let me know in the comments below.

Please reblog, like and share for more stuff like this

Tags; @hanlueluver @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @whitewiccan @msrochelleromanofffelton @starkleila @thisgirlisonfayeeer @meiramel @rooster-84 @rickb-chaos @mandylove1000 @sherloquestea and etc

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (1/?)

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat. Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.” Or the one where you fall in love with the widow of an ex-lover you never knew was married.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6k+ | Warnings: None for now | A/N: I wrote about 30k words of the Succession Wanda but hit a wall in terms of plot progression. So that's on hold. Allow me to apologize with this two-shot. P.S. I've always wanted to write for Leigh, and this idea came out of nowhere. Loosely based on canon.

Masterlist | Next Part

-

Leigh wakes up in a bed that’s not hers for the first time in months, and the unfamiliar scent of freshly cut grass and cedarwood almost immediately overwhelms her senses, suffocating her with its cloying sweetness.

“Jules?” she croaks out, her mind clawing its way through the fog. When it lifts a few seconds later, Leigh realizes where she is and what she’s done.

And how she’s very, very naked underneath the sheets. 

The person lying next to her in the bed starts to move. Right away, she knows it's not her sister, unless she's somehow caught up in a prank she doesn't find amusing at all. And so, she braces herself for her dead husband’s brother's voice to shatter the silence.

But it never comes. Instead, an arm drapes itself across her stomach, pulling her towards warmth. Leigh gets the sudden urge to vomit, except she skipped dinner and there isn’t anything to bring up. Last night, in a desperate attempt to fill the void left by Matt's absence, she had reached out to someone she shouldn't have. Someone Leigh didn’t even like to begin with. A knot tightens further in her stomach as she considers what her husband’s ghost would think. 

Would he approve? Would he feel betrayed or disgusted as she does?

Careful not to disturb Danny, who still sleeps soundly beside her, Leigh slips out of bed with the grace of a cat. She gathers her clothes from the floor and dresses herself with heavy limbs, each garment reminding her of how Danny had taken them off her body. 

As messed up as it sounds, Leigh can't help but draw parallels between him and Matt. They share the same blood, but there's not a single trait in Danny that triggers memories of Matt. With Danny, it's all about his own desires, his movements reflecting his wants. But with Matt, it's like he's always bending to Leigh’s will, submitting to her.

It tears Leigh’s heart anew. 

As she finishes dressing, Leigh glances around searching for her watch. She second-guesses whether she even wore it last night, the disarray of her thoughts mirrored in the disarray of the room. Her eyes scan the bedside table, the floor, and the dresser, but there's no sign of the timepiece.

A sudden sound from Danny startles her, and she freezes in place. She doesn't believe she can prevent herself from literally bolting out of the house if he so much as breathes her name. She’s rooted in her spot however, waiting for his breathing to steady, her heart pounding in her ears. Only when she's certain he's in a deep slumber does she release a pent-up breath, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. In that moment, she mentally curses herself once more, acutely aware of the mess she's created, before tiptoeing towards the bedroom door and abandoning the search for her watch altogether.

As she considers her options, she entertains the idea of escaping town altogether. Maybe if she leaves, she can avoid Danny for the coming days, possibly forever. Leigh wonders if she ever made Matt feel this trapped, inadvertently pushing him to leave in the only way he knew she could never follow.

-

Several days after ignoring Danny’s calls and attempts to talk to her, he retaliates by telling her the most absurd thing about his brother.

He tells Leigh she wasn’t the only one. There had been two others in the last year. 

And the last one, he fell for hard. Or at least that’s what Danny believes.

“I don’t believe you,” she says, her eyes beginning to sting a little. “If you think making me hate Matt would change my mind about us, then—”

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Leigh,” Danny interrupts calmly, shaking his head. “I just believe you deserve to know the truth. Maybe it'll help you stop blaming yourself and move on.”

“It just seems a little too convenient that this 'truth' works in your favor to tarnish Matt's reputation, doesn't it?” Leigh points out with a humorless smile. She’s always thought the worst of Danny, but she never imagined he’d go as far as fabricating a story just to get her on his side.

“I understand your skepticism, I do. I couldn’t believe it at first either,” he says, his gaze dropping to the ground as if the transgression he’s confessing were his own, not Matt’s. “But think about it. Have you ever walked in on Matt just as he's ending a call? Noticed how he's suddenly started spending more time at work, consistently twice a week? And what about his sudden interest in going to the gym and being conscious about what he eats? These are all signs, Leigh.”

His words push her to think about it, even though she doesn't want to. Leigh starts to reflect on how Matt had stopped leaving his phone unattended during showers, how he had suddenly logged off his social media accounts from her laptop, or the noticeable enhancement of his physique—all juxtaposed against a lingering decrease in his appetite for intimacy with his wife.

“I…” Leigh hesitates, searching for a rebuttal but finding none. Then Danny gives her a look—one of pity and longing that makes her want to crawl out of her skin—and suddenly she finds herself vehemently denying all of it.

“I still don’t believe you,” she says, desperately clinging to the last shreds of the illusion she had crafted around her marriage.

Danny's expression remains unreadable and it drives her further up the wall. “Fine. Believe what you want, Leigh. I'm just trying to look out for you.”

Leigh's jaw tightens. “Regardless of what you say—whether it’s real or not—I know what I want, and it's not to be with you.”

He keeps up the stony facade, opting instead to pull a card out of his wallet and hand it to her. Leigh accepts the card, her fingers quivering, as a solitary tear finally breaks free and trails down her cheek.

Danny begins to reach out, intending to brush away her tear, but hesitates at the last moment, withdrawing his hand. 

“See for yourself. Goodbye, Leigh.”

-

Just two days later, Leigh finds herself in front of the small animal clinic you own, situated a short walk away from Beautiful Beast—the fitness studio her mom owns and where she works. 

Though the sun hangs low in the sky, she's been awake long before it began to rise. She waits for the receptionist to flip the sign from “Sorry, we’re closed” to “Come in, we’re open,” ignoring the curious glance directed her way when the receptionist notices she isn’t accompanied by a furry companion. With a determined smile on her lips, Leigh pushes open the door and steps into the clinic knowing she'll leave it with answers—whatever they might be.

The receptionist looks up from her computer, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern when she sees the look on Leigh's face. “Can I help you?” 

Leigh clears her throat, trying to steady her voice. She tells her she’s looking for you, her words coming out in a rush.

The receptionist furrows her brow. “Do you have an appointment?”

Leigh shakes her head, blinking rapidly as she comes up with an excuse. “No, it's... it's urgent,” she stammers. “I need to speak to her right away.”

The receptionist appears mildly annoyed, but it doesn’t faze Leigh in the slightest. “I'll check if she's available. Please take a seat,” she says.

Leigh nods mutely and sinks into one of the chairs. She clasps her hands together tightly in her lap, trying to quell the rising tide of panic threatening to consume her. She imagines Matt’s ghost watching her this very second, frowning at her doubts about their relationship by coming here in the first place. 

And what if she’s wrong? What if Matt wasn’t cheating on her after all? But Leigh had to come here to put the issue to rest. Matt would understand why she needs to do this. He always did. 

A few moments later, the door behind the reception desk opens and the receptionist emerges from it, motioning for Leigh to enter. 

Leigh finds you standing behind your desk, your back to her, arranging a stack of medical records on the shelf.

“Dr. Y/N?” Leigh calls out softly.

You turn around at the sound of her voice, and when she sees you for the first time, Leigh immediately knows.

Danny was telling the truth. It takes everything in her not to break down in front of a stranger her husband fell in love with.

You, however, don’t recognize the woman standing before you, thinking perhaps she's simply one of your past clients. You offer Leigh a contrite smile. “You wanted to see me? Miss…?”

“Leigh Shaw.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell either, but you keep a friendly smile on your face. 

Leigh hesitates for a moment before continuing, her voice sounding fragile. “I need to talk to you about my husband,” she says, studying your clueless face. You're stunning and accomplished—a doctor and a businesswoman. You have a smile that could brighten even the darkest room.

Matt never stood a chance, did he?

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat.

Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation. 

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.”

-

After leaving your clinic, Leigh heads straight to Matt’s grave, stomping angrily on the sparse sheet of grass that has begun to sprout from his resting place.

“You're such a fucking liar!” she spits out at the unsusceptible headstone, the heat of fury spreading through her veins and to every molecule in her body. The cold wind lashes through her hair as Leigh drops to her knees, feeling like the entire world is bearing down on her. She reaches out to touch the cold marble of the headstone, still seeking solace from the one who caused her so much hurt.

“Why, Matt?”

She knows there will be no answers—only the cold silence of death.

Leigh feels a surge of anger rise within her once more as she recalls the way you looked at her—the pain in your eyes when she revealed to you that Matt had died. What you two had was real, as real as what she had with him. She had been hoping it was at least just a fling, but alas, she couldn’t be further from her assumptions.

“I can't believe I ever loved you,” Leigh mutters bitterly. She wants to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. But all she can do is clutch at the grass beneath her, her nails digging into the earth as if trying to anchor herself against the torrent of pain crippling her chest. Tears stream down her face as she finally collapses to the ground, assuming a fetal position, whispering, “I can't believe I still do.”

-

You continue to stare at the space that Leigh previously occupied for a good ten minutes, not moving an inch from where you stood—shocked, hurt, confused. Matt, the man you had been seeing, was dead. And not just dead, but married. Married to someone else, someone named Leigh Shaw, a name so important but he managed to hide from you for weeks. 

Matt had never mentioned a wife, never wore a ring, never hinted at the existence of someone waiting for him at home. If he had, you would never have let him get as close to you like he did. You've always respected boundaries and families—and now you've discovered that unwittingly, you've destroyed one.

Leigh's departure was swift, just as soon as you confessed to having feelings for her husband and how Matt reciprocated those same feelings. Leigh, ruthless in her questioning, demanded to know if you had slept with Matt. You swore you never did, detailing how Matt abruptly ghosted you after your first kiss, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and missed calls. 

You wanted so badly for Leigh to believe you, and you think she did. However, none of it mattered in the end. He cheated all the same. He hurt the woman he made a promise to love and stay faithful to. 

Because of you.

You feel sickened by your own naivety; by the way you have allowed yourself to be fooled by his lies. And yet, amidst the anger and self-recrimination, there is a profound sense of loss. Despite the circumstances of your relationship, you had cared for Matt deeply. Maybe even loved him.

But how much of it was real? How much of it was not about him running from his problems with his wife and using you as a distraction? The ease with which he slipped out of your life suddenly fits into place.

While his passing deeply rattled you, it's now largely overshadowed by thoughts of his widow.

Leigh Shaw.

Earlier, even though you said sorry over and over, it felt like it wasn't enough, and you wanted to do more to make her feel better. What stopped you was the realization that you're likely the last person she would want comfort from. A sense of helplessness washes over you as you come to the conclusion that there's nothing you can do to undo the damage that's been done. Matt is gone, and Leigh's world has been shattered in ways you can't even begin to imagine. 

Moving on from Matt is something you know you could do. He wasn’t the first person to break your heart, be it through deceit or demise. But the situation with Leigh is unfamiliar territory.

How do you fix this for her? 

Will she even let you?

-

When Leigh tells Jules about Matt’s infidelity, her sister fixates on the detail that she slept with Danny. It’s not the response Leigh expected. She anticipated shock, and maybe even a bit of outrage on her behalf. But instead, Jules latches onto the one detail that seems to pale in comparison to the enormity of Matt's betrayal.

“But how could you?” Jules asks, her voice incredulous as she chews on a dumpling. “How could you sleep with Danny?”

Faced with her sister's disapproval, Leigh finds herself clamming up. “Are you kidding? I just told you that Matt was cheating on me, and your response is to judge me for hooking up with a single guy while I'm single?” Leigh retorts, hastily wiping her lips with a napkin.

Jules just shakes her head, putting down her chopsticks. “Leigh, I get it. Matt’s betrayal is awful, and you have every right to be angry. But the ‘single guy’ you hooked up with isn't just any guy, and you know it. You don't think it's weird? What would people think? That all this time, sleeping with your husband’s brother has always been an option?”

Leigh's eyes widen in shock, and for a moment, she's speechless. She hadn't—didn't want to entertain the idea of what sleeping with Danny would imply. She was chasing a feeling; any feeling that wasn’t emptiness. And with Danny, she did feel something, even if it was regret and shame. At least it proved she was still capable of feeling at all.

“It… just happened,” Leigh murmurs, rubbing her temples. Hollowness and migraines, she's almost forgotten.

“And? Is it going to be a ‘thing’?” Jules probes, eyebrows raised.

Leigh lifts her gaze, biting back a defensive retort. Instead she simply says, “Absolutely not.”

Jules seems satisfied with that, knocking back the rest of her beer. “Good.”

But as Jules moves on, Leigh’s left stewing in her own thoughts. Telling Jules felt like yelling into a void—exhausting and utterly pointless. Now she’s dreading the thought of breaking the news to Drew. If Jules’ reaction was any indication, she’s in for another round of disappointment. 

Being a young widow already sets her apart, but nothing makes her feel more alone than her family's inability to truly grasp her grief. She guesses she's been feeling alone for years, long before Matt came into her life and subsequently left it.

Jules, catching the tail end of Leigh's distant look, leans in and asks, “So, what's the plan now? You still going to that grief counseling group? Danny's been showing up there, right?”

Leigh's gaze sharpens, a bit taken aback by the sudden shift back to practicalities. “Are you asking about my plans with Danny? Because I already told you, that's over. I'm never seeing him again.”

Jules raises her hands in a placating gesture, mindful that one wrong move could tip Leigh over the edge for good. “Not really, no. I'm asking if you're still keen on processing your grief. Now that it turns out Matt was... well, a snake.”

Jules calling Matt a snake doesn't sit well with Leigh even with his cheating coming to light. But she supposes it's Jules' way of being on her side every once in a while. It's a clumsy attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.

“Yeah, I'm still going,” Leigh finally says, her gaze dropping to her lap before meeting Jules' eyes again. “Not for Danny, not for anyone else, but for me. Turns out, finding out your rotting husband was living a double life does a number on you. Who knew, right?”

Jules cracks a small, rueful smile at that and says, “Who knew indeed.”

Leigh thinks back to the time when she believed she knew Matt inside and out, a belief so deeply ingrained it felt like a cornerstone of her identity as his wife. She prided herself on their connection, convinced that they shared everything—every thought, every fear, every dream. It was a pride rooted in the belief that she knew him better than anyone else could, and he, her, in the same intimate manner.

It was the kind of recognition that’s not only about knowing his favorite color or the way he took his coffee. It’s deeper and more layered. She knew the exact tone of voice he'd use when he was about to apologize, the look in his eyes when he was holding back tears, the subtle shift in his posture when he was trying to be braver than he felt. And she thought he knew her just as intricately—the silent language of her sighs, the meaning behind her quietest smiles, the small, everyday details that they believed only they could understand about each other.

“It's hard, you know? Feeling like you're mourning someone who never really existed,” Leigh mumbles after a long pause.

“Yeah, I can't even imagine,” Jules responds, reaching across the table to give Leigh's hand a brief squeeze. “But I'm here, okay? Even if I don't always get it right.”

Jules, Drew, Danny, her mom—all of them—rarely get it right. It has always been Matt. 

He has always been all she has and needed. 

Even if Leigh wasn't aware that she was probably just getting his scraps.

-

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps thinking over the next several days. Maybe I pushed him to it.

It doesn’t help that there’s a new member who has also been widowed, and she’s sharing about her late husband who had quite a number of mistresses throughout their eighteen years of marriage.

Leigh listens, her fingers twisted together in her lap, as the woman talks about the signs she missed, the lies she believed.

“I just keep thinking,” the woman's voice breaks, “if I'd been more attentive, more... I don't know, less demanding, maybe things would've been different.”

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps screaming inside. Maybe I pushed him to it.

-

It took Leigh a long time to return to the apartment she shared with Matt after his passing. 

Mostly, it's because Leigh found it difficult to confront the scattered remnants of him that would remain untouched in his absence. No longer would he be picking up his favorite shirt or completing another page of his crossword puzzle book. Yet, these belongings would remain his, just as Leigh felt she still belonged to him.

So it’s ironic that now, surrounded by the same belongings in her bedroom at her mother’s home, she's being overwhelmed by the impulse to turn them all into ashes. In a sudden frenzy, Leigh grabs a box and begins to throw everything inside. The sound of her ragged breathing fills the room, only matched by the soft thuds of objects landing in the cardboard. 

“Stupid fucking toys!” she shouts, tossing a figurine with more force than necessary.

“And this shirt—what were you thinking?” She grabs a garishly patterned fabric, shaking it at the empty air as if expecting an answer.

Her voice cracks, “You're not even here, and you're driving me crazy!”

As Leigh's wrath burns through the remnants of Matt’s life, her thoughts take a dark turn. The things he owned, the pieces of his life flying from her hand—it all leads her back to the one person who had a piece of him, a piece that was never hers.

The thought of your face, the one that belonged to him too at one point, flashes in her mind, and she's on the edge of losing all control. 

If only Leigh could throw you into the box too.

Finally, she finds the book he gave her for her last birthday, the one she never read, and for a moment, her movements pause. Then, with a cry of anguish, she tosses it in as well. When the box is full, she kicks it. Once, twice, thrice—each kick releasing a burst of pent-up fury until she's gasping for breath.

A knock at the door startles her. It's soft but persistent, making it obvious that whoever is outside has heard the commotion in her room. “Leigh, honey, are you done in there?” Amy's voice seeps through the wood.

Leigh wipes at her eyes. “Almost. I, uh… just give me a minute,” she calls back. She’s not done—not really. But she’ll probably set the house on fire if she doesn’t stop here.

Pushing herself up, Leigh opens the door. She knows the sight she presents isn't pretty—eyes swollen red, nose a mess, and those dark circles. But her mom has seen this look more times than either would care to count.

“You okay?” her mom asks, though the answer's written all over Leigh's face.

Leigh shakes her head, no energy to pretend.

“Want some breakfast?”

Again, “No,” slips out.

Then, “Need a ride to the studio?” her mom tries again.

“Yes,” Leigh finds herself saying, clinging to the offer like a lifeline, a small acknowledgment that life, somehow, must go on.

-

The following day, Leigh looks at the box, then at everything around her. She mutters, “Screw this,” and starts pulling everything out of the box, putting it all back where it came from.

-

Leigh's back at running, not because she loves it, but because the sun insists on poking her awake before the rest of the world stirs. It's an old hobby, dusted off to fill the gaping mornings before her first yoga class. 

It’s easy to do because she realizes she’s good at it. Leigh’s only been at it for just a couple of weeks and already she's feeling fitter, faster. She likes the pain too, not being aware before that there are different kinds of pain, and some of them do feel good—addicting even. 

Mid-thought, her routine jog takes a wild left turn: stranded in the middle of the bustling traffic is a French Bulldog, looking decidedly out of place. Ignoring the honks and the near misses, Leigh bolts across the street. It's a bit of a mad dash, dodging cars that are swerving and braking hard. She scoops him up in her arms and doesn’t stop to think about the close calls. 

It hits her then—she's surprised at her own gutsiness, not even pausing to think that she could've been clipped by a car not paying attention. Maybe all this time spent wrestling with thoughts of death has brought her to a strange peace with it and is no longer scared of it. It's like she's danced with death so much, it's just another shadow she passes by—not something that paralyzes her in place anymore.

Leigh’s not sure if being this fearless is actually a good thing though.

After cooling her heels on the sidewalk for half an hour, with no owner in sight, she shrugs and decides he’s coming home with her.

Jules gives her a scrutinizing look the moment she walks in. “What, you went out for a run and decided to get a dog?”

“Rescue mission,” Leigh shoots back, setting the dog down. “Found him in the middle of Second Street. Seems he’s lost.”

Jules doesn't miss a beat, heading straight for the newcomer. She kneels, her hands gently petting the dog, her eyes softening in a way that Leigh rarely sees. The dog, clearly pleased with the attention, wags its tail vigorously. Her eyes are practically giving her away, so it sounds almost funny when she looks up at Leigh and says, “Just don't get too attached, okay?”

“I won’t, which is why I named him Visitor. It’s temporary,” Leigh says with a smile, looking very proud of the name she came up with.

Jules chuckles, standing up and brushing off her knees. “Nerd. Matt would've gotten a kick out of that.”

The room just freezes at the mention of his name. Talking about Matt is like walking into a glass door you didn't see.

Jules tries to backpedal, “Hey, sorry, I—” But Leigh's quick to brush it off with a shrug. 

“Don't worry about it. Let's just figure out where Visitor here belongs, okay?”

As they refocus on Visitor, Jules can't help but notice the way the dog favors one leg as he trots over to sit snugly between Leigh's legs, looking up at her with those big, trusting eyes. “Looks like he's got a bit of a limp,” Jules points out.

Leigh frowns and leans down to get a closer look, her fingers gently probing around Visitor's leg until she finds a tender spot. The moment she applies a little pressure, Visitor yelps, pulling away sharply and retreating a few steps.

Jules winces at the reaction. “Yeah, that's not good. Maybe we should take him to a vet?”

Leigh can barely hold back a grimace as her brain immediately links you to the situation.

“What's wrong?” Jules notices the sudden shift in Leigh’s mood. “There's St. Mary's Animal Clinic nearby. I heard they're great.”

That's your clinic. Leigh's throat tightens at the thought, the memories of her visit flooding back. “Are there others around here?”

Jules looks puzzled at the question. “I mean, I can look it up, but what's wrong with St. Mary's?”

Leigh considers whether she should tell Jules about meeting you. Part of her really knows it’s unfair to dislike you, especially if you genuinely didn't know Matt was married. But she knows Jules too well—tell her, and it'll turn into a whole thing. Leigh's not sure she's up for that drama.

Despite her reservations, Leigh decides to bite the bullet, her curiosity getting the better of her. Besides, if she can’t be brave enough to talk about this in her counseling group, she should probably at least tell Jules.

“Actually, Jules,” Leigh begins, “St. Mary's Animal Clinic is where... where she works.”

Jules's eyes widen in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. “Wait, you mean... you mean her, as in…?” she stammers, disbelief written all over her face.

“Yup,” Leigh confirms, smacking her lips forcefully. 

“Oh my god—that bitch,” Jules spits out, her voice dripping with disdain before Leigh can even brace for impact.

“She didn’t know Matt’s married,” Leigh clarifies quickly.

“And you bought that?”

“I had a feeling she was telling the truth. Besides, I can’t imagine Matt being that brazen to pursue someone while married. He can be a little self-righteous sometimes,” Leigh says, only half-sure of her statement. Recently, she has to remind herself that maybe she never really knew him at all.

Then, an idea sparks in Jules's mind. “You know what?” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Maybe this is a good opportunity. After all, she owes you one, right? Maybe she'll treat Visitor for free, to make up for being... well, you know.”

Leigh rubs her nose, skeptical of the idea. “I don't know, Jules. I don't want to impose…”

Jules leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I mean, if she's the reason you're hurting, maybe she should make it right?”

She isn't hurting because of you, not directly. That's why Jules’ suggestion hangs in the air, unappealing. Leigh remembers the pity in your eyes from that morning, and she doesn't want it. She doesn't want anything from you at all. Her resolve instantly hardens like ice. 

“No,” Leigh finally says. “I don't want her charity. I'll pay for Visitor's bills myself. And I'll keep the receipts for when his real owners show up.” It's a decision that feels surprisingly empowering, a small reclaiming of control in a world that's felt off-kilter for too long.

Jules merely sighs; she knows better than to push Leigh when her mind’s made up. 

“Have it your way.”

-

Leigh brings Visitor to St. Mary’s the very next day.

There's a certain set to her jaw, a readiness for something less than pleasant. She doesn’t need to go through reception this time because she spots you right away, escorting a client to the door, cradling their puppy in your arms. Seeing you with a pet makes Leigh realize why you’ve chosen this profession. You fit right in among the animals, she muses bitterly.

It's with a sense of satisfaction that she watches your smile dissipate as soon as your eyes land on hers. 

She strides confidently towards you, dog in arms, forcing you to quickly hand off the puppy back to its owner. Yet, you recover with a swiftness that's begrudgingly admirable as you give her a look that’s equal parts professional and friendly—like you were actually looking forward to seeing her again.

“Good morning, Leigh. How can I help you?”

Without a word, Leigh extends the dog she’s carrying towards you, a silent transfer of trust, or perhaps, necessity. You gesture towards the consultation room, an invitation she accepts with a terse nod, following you into the space where you effortlessly shift into doctor mode.

As you begin to charm her dog, she can't help but narrow her eyes. It irks her, watching Visitor take to you instantly, as if you were old friends. “What's his name?” you ask, looking up at Leigh.

“Visitor.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the name, just in time for your irises to capture the light seeping through the office blinds. They glow a hazel-brown, disarmingly so. Leigh forces herself to focus back on the purpose of her visit. 

Leigh continues, “He’s limping on his left hind leg. I’d appreciate it if you can prescribe him something. I'll try not to take up too much of your time.”

Ignoring the undercurrent of Leigh's insinuation, your attention remains undividedly on Visitor. The well-being of the dog before you eclipses any personal sentiments, as it always does. 

“I'm sorry, but before we can consider any medication, I need to examine him thoroughly. It's possible he might require some lab tests to rule out anything serious,” you tell her. Despite sounding apologetic, Leigh interprets it as your polite way of telling her to fuck off and let you do your job.

As you palpate the dog's leg carefully, you begin your routine questions. “Can you tell me his birthday? Any vaccination history?”

They’re basic, but they seem to catch Leigh off guard anyway. “He’s not mine. I found him on the street yesterday,” she reveals with a reluctant sigh.

The news prompts a more detailed response from you. 

“I see. In that case, we should definitely line up some tests for Visitor. We need to ensure he doesn't have distemper or any other airborne virus that could be affecting his mobility,” you suggest, already mentally cataloging the necessary procedures.

You start detailing the tests you intend to perform, explaining their purposes and associated costs. Leigh is clearly deluged by it all and you decide to take pity on the poor woman by adding that it’s still up to her which tests to proceed with, if any at all.

“Your call, Leigh,” you tell her.

Leigh can't shake off the vibe that you're throwing a gauntlet down in front of her. It's like her inner competitor wakes up, refusing to back down. “Do all of them,” she declares, tipping her chin up towards you. “Whatever you think is best.”

“That’s a good decision. We’ll take care of it right away,” you say, already picking up the phone to call the reception for assistance. 

Leigh's still trying to get a read on you. Was her arm twisted into this choice, or did you genuinely have Visitor's best interest at heart? She's not about to hand out trust like free samples, especially when she could end up misjudging you. It’s a tricky spot, especially because she’s clearly been wrong before.

-

The tests take their time, roughly an hour, after which Leigh finds herself pacing the lobby. An additional quarter-hour trickles by before the receptionist finally calls her back into the consultation room.

“Good news,” you start, making sure to catch her eye. She meets your look briefly before her attention shifts to Visitor. “It's only a sprain. The X-ray revealed no breaks or other issues. But,” you pause, checking to see if she's still fully engaged, “his blood tests indicated a low platelet count and evidence of an infection.”

Leigh listens intently, nodding along.

You explain what this means in a clear, concise manner, avoiding medical jargon as much as possible. “It's something we can manage with medication. I'll prescribe some antibiotics for the infection and pain medication to help with his discomfort. It's important that he completes the course of antibiotics to clear the infection completely.”

You watch Leigh closely, gauging her reaction and ready to answer any questions she might have. “We'll need to keep an eye on his platelet count, so I'd like to schedule a follow-up visit next week. This will also give us a chance to check how his leg is healing.”

“Will he be okay?” she asks without looking up from Visitor, busy scratching behind his ears.

“He'll be just fine,” you reassure her, adding, “Any questions about what we discussed?”

Leigh stays silent and you take it as your cue that she doesn’t have any thoughts on the matter. As she wraps up without saying much more, you realize it's time to wrap things up too. But there's something niggling at you, something that's been on your mind since the last time she was here. You're about to let her go, but then, out of nowhere, you feel this urge to clear the air about that whole mess with Matt. 

“So, uhm, about the other week when you…” you trail off, suddenly feeling like you're balancing on a tightrope without a net. You’re not so easily spooked by confrontations, but Leigh makes you nervous in a way you can’t explain. “I guess I just wanted to say sorry… for your loss, and for—”

“Does he really need to take pain medication for seven days?” Leigh cuts you off suddenly. It’s sharp enough for you to shut your mouth and abandon your attempt to get personal.

“Yes, the full course is important to ensure he's comfortable and that the inflammation goes down properly. It's just as crucial as the antibiotics for his recovery…”

Leigh nods, carefully scooping Visitor into her arms, preparing to leave.

You try one last time. “Leigh, I really am sorry–”

“I’ll see you next week, Dr. Y/L/N,” she says dismissively and then she’s gone.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

~𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓸𝓵𝔂𝓷 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓼 (𝓚𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓔𝓿𝓮) 𝓢𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓼 1-4

[empydoc]

obsessed with how a lot of redacted fics use the listener pet name like their actual, government name.

i mean i get it, what other name will you use?

but also like … it could be a life or death situation and a dude named david shaw will be calling the name angel like he forgot about their actual name years ago and that’s all he remembers

incredible. continue

[frog-0n-a-l0g]

Writing my first Fic abt angel taking home a fucking street rat

[kinoi-lol]

The rest of book covers made

:D I love this hobbies if you cant tell