One Shots Book

Cravings • Ari Levinson

mafia/hubby!Ari x pregnant/wife! reader

Flip Flop POV...you guys know the drill now (;

~ Y/n ~

I tried my best to take a nap like my husband told me to do. It was a rainy day but I just couldn't sleep with the little feet in my stomach kicking me in the ribs.

"Shhh, sweet girl, just sleep," I rub my bump, hoping my voice would soothe her.

Instead, she kicks my hand.

I sigh, and decide she's not gonna sleep, so after doing my best to sit up on my own, I rest against the headboard taking deep breaths because after any movement I'm exhausted.

Powering the TV on, I scroll through my "Watch Later" list, I find something to watch but now baby girl and I want a snack.

Ari is in a meeting so no luck calling him.

I swing my legs around the bed, and scoot until I'm at the edge. And I'm already exhausted - again.

I waddle my way to the kitchen, tip toeing past the office of my husband where very serious talk and negotiation was occurring.

Entering the kitchen, I mentally thank our cleaning lady for always leaving the kitchen smelling like fresh lemon.

I head to the pantry, turning the light on, and then looking around to see if there were any Biscoff Cookies. My absolute favorite.

My heart sinks when I don't find any packages. My next thought is that I can settle for Oreos, but there's none of that goodness either!

My face is wet and I realize that I'm crying. And fuck I'm so mad, I'm pregnant and hormonal and I just wanted some damn cookies!

~ Ari ~

"You need to find him, Curtis," I slouch back in my seat, hands crossed above my torso.

"We lost him once, and I'm not fucking losing him again, he knows he owes me money, son of a bitch is hiding," my hand scratches up to my eyebrow.

"Will do, boss." Curtis responds.

The door opens to my office and there stood a very angry, but cute little person, my wife.

"Ari Levinson!" She yells at me, her eyes red and puffy, and if I had to guess I'd say she'd been crying.

"There's no more cookies or oreos!" She wipes her tears away with the back of her hand, standing there like a toddler.

Not looking at the men who eyed her, sitting around my conference table.

"You boys are dismissed," I send my men away, and they all leave the room, mostly because I didn't want them to see my softer side that was about to come out.

"C'mere, baby," I gather her in my lap, and she wraps her arms around me.

Sobbing quietly into my chest, I kiss the top of her head, "what seems to be the problem?"

"There's no cookies, or Oreos, I just wanted a snack to eat while I watched my movie." She cries.

"Sweetheart, you told me to tell our grocer to not get anymore cookies because you said you looked and felt like a bowling ball." I rub her bump gently, my daughter is so active I could feel her little feet hitting against my palm.

"That was stupid me!" She tells me, "this is logical me." Sitting back in my lap, she takes my hands into hers.

"What is it gonna take you for you to get some damn cookies?" She's stressed, obviously, her chest heaving as she calmed down from crying.