#it pays enough for her to be a sugar mommy and for (gestures to the post-school helicopter scene) but her actual social standing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rubyvhs · 4 months ago

Text

remedy (viii) — sam winchester

> prev, masterlist

summary: you find sam ten years later, or he finds you, and things change forever— tags: major character deaths, 70% angst, i broke my own heart, case-fic, grieving, mourning, slow burn, praying, very long 13k, though it’s extremely fast paced. general surgeon!fem!reader.

ten years later

“Hey, Miss Moseley,” you call out as the older woman smiles at you and Emmy, it’s the same warm gesture every end of the week as you and your daughter pick up the groceries.

“Hey, sugar. How’s my little angel?” She leans down to kiss your daughter's head, seeing as you’d made it clear to every living, breathing person that no one gets to kiss her anywhere but there. “Oh and how’s Mark? I heard about the promotion he got, that’s wonderful, truly.”

It was unexpected, but yes, your husband got the biggest promotion of his career working at the law firm in town. Obviously you’ve never been prouder (except maybe when your oldest said ‘mama’ first) but it has been with its ups and downs. He stays later nights and it’s a lot more pressure, though now you don’t exactly live paycheck by paycheck, even if you haven’t been doing that anyways, but now you really don’t and you’re grateful.

“He’s great, thank you. You heard right, I'm proud of his hard work.” She shakes her hand around as if to tell you ‘who cares’ and you know the woman well enough to guess what she’s about to say next.

“And the pay?” Yeah, you were right.

“We’re grateful, Miss Moseley. Thank you for checking in.” You reply politely as the last of her things are ringed up and the cashier shops her away. She kisses your cheek as a goodbye as you ring your things up.

“She means well, you know.” The eighteen year old says from behind the counter and you can’t help but laugh. Not exactly at her, but, you know.

“Of course she does, Missouri is a sweetheart, we’re just not too sure about things ourselves. How are you doing in your senior year?” You deflect.

“‘M okay. Just passed my English final and Maths— Biology and Chemistry are what's left.” She replies, waving to Emmy. She laughs, waving back with an enthusiasm she saves especially for teenage girls. “Hopefully I can actually graduate this year.”

“You will, sweetheart,” you reassure, the nickname coming easy to you. It always did. “I’m sure of it. Call me anytime, okay?” She nods with a smile, handing you back your card and you carry the bags to the car.

Emmy’s holding onto your blue dress, with little white flowers all over it, the one you like to wear most of the time considering how hot it’s been getting. Though your older daughter doesn’t mind the heat (for whatever unholy reason), the rest of you are minding it a whole damn lot, you begged Mark to let you change practically your entire closet and he hadn’t argued much.

When the bags are in the trunk you strap Emmy in the back and turn on a country playlist Mark had made you a while ago. Though when you listen to it it reminds you of your days in Stanford.

As you park your jeep, you can feel your throat constrict and the tip of your nose redden. It’s hard not to notice the shiny black impala in your drive way. And it is there. Just there. Who put it there? Why would the universe torture you like this? What the hell even kind of joke is this—

“Mommy?” Emmy whines out, clearly starting to feel the effect of the heat with the A/C working only halfway.

“Yeah, baby.”

“Wanna show Daddy.” She says as she waves her iPad to show you the drawing she made. You should, in fact, go inside. And find out what the hell he’s doing in your house.

When you take Emmy’s hand it takes everything in you to control your breathing. You’ve been better than when you were in college. It had been— a rough couple of years to say the least, but you powered through them with a determination you didn’t know you had in you. Then you started your internship and found Mark, you had dated for a year before he proposed and of course you had said yes. Now, he’s coming back and he’ll— God, you just know that he’s going to ruin everything you’ve worked so hard to bring together.

Emmy runs through the door and straight to her dad with a yell. “Baby, no shouting.” You lecture loosely, shutting the door behind you as the three men in your living room stand up to greet you, Emmy already forgetting about her drawing and running up to her room.

And that’s when you decide how you should approach it. It’s the only way nothing will turn sour. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You eye your husband, leaning in to kiss his cheek. You haven’t even looked at them yet but their presence is all consuming that you actually gulp before Mark puts a hand in your back so you’re facing them.

You find his eyes first. And it looks like he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire time. You don’t hear a single damn thing your husband is saying because you and Sam are staring into the other’s eyes in a way that makes you think you may be cheating right in front of him.

Sam’s changed so drastically that it brings you to a violent halt. His hair’s the first thing you notice, it’s grown to just above his shoulder, and it’s tamer, no more of that shaggy haircut he had ruffled everywhere. It fits him with the black suit he has on, that and his height. You’ve grown maybe an inch, he looks so much taller. Maybe you’re imagining it, maybe he just looks that good, either way, it’s mesmerizing.

When Mark says your name twice you snap out of it, shaking your head with a hum.

“Agents Plant and Page.” Agents who the fuck now?

“Excuse me— what?” Your husband narrows his eyes at you, but when you don’t budge he lets out a small awkward laugh.

“I’m sorry, agents, it’s the heat, really bad this week and she gets these migraines.”

Sam nods, completely professional and understanding as he talks to your husband, “We understand. I know how migraines can be,” yeah, ‘cause you used to have them, “it’s no problem. We should get going, we’ve already taken up too much of your time.”

“Oh. I thought you said you wanted to talk to my wife. I can go get the bags from the car, leave y’all to it.”

“That’s really not—”

Dean doesn’t hesitate to cut Sam off, “Yes, that would be good. Thank you.”

Mark kisses your lips this time and you’re stunned for a second before kissing back, but it’s brief and he nods at the gentlemen in politeness before leaving. You’re left with both of them. “Dean,” You announce shakily, “Sam.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Dean smiles, like it’s nostalgic to see you, and you suppose it is. You’re not angry with either of them, especially not Dean. Despite his flirty nature, he hadn’t been rude to you and he’d respected you every time you met him. He moves past the coffee table to take your hand but you, to your absolute fucking surprise, pull him in for a hug.

Dean’s grown up too. He looks it, his voice is way lower, his stubble and those damn suits they're both wearing. He lets out a laugh, hugging back. “Haven't seen you in ages.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, releasing your grip to place a quick kiss in your hair. When he moves away, Sam’s standing behind him. He looks— all 6 foot something of him— awkward and unsure and it might be the most heartbreaking thing you’ve seen. Sam’s changed in appearance, he’s grown up, sure, but at Stanford he was confident. He wasn’t cocky but he knew his stuff and didn’t back down, this Sam’s curling up into himself the second you came in the room (or when you first bothered to look at him anyway).

“Hey, Sam.” You smile, repeating the same gesture you had with Dean, except it’s different, so so different with him. His hand’s on your waist, yours wrapped around his neck. The same way you hug everyone else. Then why does his embrace feel more intimate? And his cologne, God.

He pulls away a few seconds later (maybe, who know, it could have been hours).

“We didn’t know—”

“Yeah, I figured as much with the whole agents thing.” You’re not stupid, you’ve seen the news, Dean and Sam are wanted in some states, for a long list that you never bothered checking for the sole reason that you never thought you’d see them and you had such an exceptional picture of them in your head that you didn’t want to ruin it.

But the truth is, you also don’t believe that they would do it. Sam and Dean wanted for theft? Murder? you don’t buy it. Sam had told you how dangerous his job was, you know it has to come with consequences.

“So why are you here?”

“We’re investigating something.” You frown. No animal attacks here as far as you know.

“Investigating what?”

“There was a girl. She died in the neighborhood last year, Carla.”

Your face falls and you cross your arms in front of your chest. “Get out.” Dean’s eyes widen, clearly taken aback by your sudden change in tone. “Get out, both of you.”

“Hey—”

“No, you’re joking. You came in here to ask my husband about his dead niece. And you made him think you’re fucking FBI, which is illegal by the way, Mr. Stanford Lawyer. And for what? Is this all just for fun?” You’re praying your voice doesn’t get too loud but you can’t help the pit of anger in your stomach. They can’t do this. They can’t.

“That’s not what we’re doing,” Sam speaks up, his eyebrows furrowed together. Sam speaks in a much lower tone than he did in Stanford. It’s less urgent, more patient and understanding. He’s listening more than he is talking. It’s a noticeable change from the man you once knew, “we’re trying to find out what happened to her, I swear. We’re here to help.”

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but there haven’t been any animals around lately so this isn’t up your alley— which by the way, fuck you both.” You don’t remember ever being this immature but damn it, do the Winchesters get a ride out of you. “You’re both lying to my husband and expect me to do what? Welcome you with open arms?” The fact that you did goes unsaid.

There’s a deadly kind of silence that overcomes the three of you. You’re waiting for an explanation, they’re looking at each other like they don’t want to give one, and your oldest daughter just woke up from her nap and is walking down the stairs. She’s on the last step, rubbing the sleep from her eyes when she notices the two big men in suits and frowns. “Mommy…” she mumbles, clearly ready to go back upstairs.

At least the kid has good instincts. “Hey, sweetheart.” You smile slightly, leaving both of them in the living room to walk over to her, kneeling down. “What’s wrong? Why are you up?”

“Sound. Where’s daddy?”

“Outside. You wanna go and play with Emmy or are you gonna go back to sleep?” She shrugs, looks back at Sam and Dean then you, questions written all over her pretty little face. “Those are the police, they’re trying to help us. It’s okay, you can go back upstairs and I’ll bring you a snack, okay?” She nods and you get up, kiss her head, and let her run back upstairs.

When you face them, not moving closer, they both get the message. You want to say it’s easy, watching them walk to the front door, kicking them out, losing Sam again. But it isn’t. And you can’t help what you do next.

“Sam,” it’s just his name. That’s all you said, but God, you can practically feel how tense he just got, standing in place. He looks at Dean who nods in understanding and walks out of the house. Sam faces you, you’re closer than you think you should be.

“I never wanted to hurt you. Or Mark. And— Dean and I, we had no idea this was your house or that she was your niece—”

“Mark’s niece.”

“Right. We didn’t know. We asked around and they gave us Mark's last name, we thought it was a coincidence. And there’s no pictures—”

“I don’t like hanging pictures in the house.” You cut him off, not sure why you’re confessing like it’s a sin, but the need to explain yourself to Sam has apparently not gone away completely. He nods in understanding and sighs. “I didn’t mean to kick you guys out, I just hate how much you’ve lied to me, and I don’t even know why, I don’t even know what it’s about.”

He slips up, “Baby, I wish I could tell you—”

“You don’t get to call me that.” Maybe it’s Stanford all over again. Have you really grown up? Have you really changed for the better? Will you ever be able to let go of Sam? You haven’t thought about him for a long time, but seeing him in front of you— in fact you haven’t thought of him since you two broke up. Maybe you’re not mentally ready for this.

But more than that, you’re not letting anyone get between you and your husband.

“I know.” He groans, rubbing a hand over his face, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. I hope you guys find out what happened with Carla.”

Sam’s about to say something. A rebuttal, probably. Maybe then you can both have an actual conversation. But he decides against it and opens the door, walking out.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

You see him nod at Mark and Dean end the conversation with your husband to get back in the impala. You watch them drive off before shutting your eyes, grounding yourself. You need to calm down. Obviously, you told Mark that you talked to someone before, and had a brief relationship with them, it wasn’t a secret, but you don’t think he knows that it’s the same guy who just pretended to be FBI and talked to him about his niece.

“What did they ask about?” Your husband asks as he gets inside, Emmy on his right while he's holding two hands full of groceries.

“Carla. You didn’t tell them she was your niece?” Now that you notice it, they were surprised to find out Carla's in any way related to you and Mark. He shrugs and moves to the kitchen but you follow him with a frown. “Why?”

“‘Cause they wouldn't take it seriously. The police thought I was overreacting since we were related but the FBI actually listened, and they believed me. I don’t want them to think emotions are taking over.” And the mocking way he says the word makes your heart clench.

You fell in love with Mark pretty quickly— or, he fell in love with you. And you eventually did too, with the sweet gestures and the kind comments, he was an incredible man, an even better husband that you’re proud to call yours. But he also had some issues, and trouble when it came to his family. While you guys do live in the same neighborhood as them, he doesn't like them. And for good reason, they're assholes. But he does love them.

He isn’t actually an ‘emotional guy’ and to label him as such— well, Mark is old-school. He won’t do well with that. His manhood and all that— and you’re not even saying it in a condescending way, you know how he was raised, it’s the one thing he’ll never back down from. But he’s been so good to you over the past five years, you’ve had your ups and downs, of course you did, but you couldn’t think of a better husband.

Can you? Can you think of someone you’d love more and want to spend the rest of your life with more than Mark? The man who traveled all the way back to your home country to ask your father for your hand in marriage?

“I’m— I’ll get started on dinner. They seem like good people, and they’re looking into it.” You smile slightly, leaning up to give him a quick kiss, putting the groceries away, your oldest daughter has come down to even help you and spend time with Emmy.

And maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe you should just take it to the grave, but God, you can’t help but call Gen’s number when it’s ten and you’re on your couch all alone. Mark is out with friends, your kids are in their room and you can’t stop yourself from calling a number you’d left abandoned for a year. An entire year.

It rings once. Twice. And when you hear her voice through the speaker you bite back tears. “Hello?”

“Hey— hey, Gen.” A relieved sort of laugh comes from the other line and it eases you into the conversation if only a little.

“Hi, sweetie. I haven’t heard from you in a while, how are Mark and the kids?” You were ready for an argument, and maybe that’s why you called in the first place, to get what’s been coming for you. You deserve it after you abandoned her when she needed you the most. You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect normal with Gen. You don’t deserve it.

“Yeah. They’re okay. How about you and Rue?” As if the universe wanted to make a point, Rue, you guess, stole her mother’s phone from her hand and ran around with it, asking you how you’re doing and that she misses you. Rue’s almost six, but she’s as much of a troublemaker as she was at four.

“Rue’s fine!” She yells across the room, then she takes the phone and you can hear her better. “She’s great, just got into fifth grade, actually.”

You smile, the tears running down your cheeks without your consent. “That’s— great, Gen.”

She picks up on the crack in your voice and sighs. “Sweetie. Why’d you call now? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Nothing, I feel so bad I haven’t called and I promise, I’m so sorry, Gen. You know I love her and I didn’t mean to do this.” you cut yourself off, scared you’re talking over her, but she doesn’t speak, letting you continue. “And I miss you and my little niece. I miss Rue and the kids, of course, they also miss her and I’ve been such a—”

“Nuh, uh. None of that here. You were grieving.”

You scoff, a hand slapping the tears away. “No, you were grieving.”

“Jess was as much of my girlfriend as she was your best friend. I’ve known her longer, but she was always your soulmate, and I never, for a second, held that against you.” It hurts knowing that what she’s saying is true. You don’t want to believe her because what have you done for her to love you this way? Unconditionally.

“I know. I wanted to be there for you but I couldn’t even say her name and I’m, I’m so scared. Even now, I’m always so scared, and I think about her all the time.”

“I think about her too…” you want to say you’re imagining the crack in her voice, that it’s a slip up that means nothing. But truthfully, Gen’s only ever cried with you. She’s not close to her parents and despite her multitude of friends, most of them had drifted after college. Not the three of you. Not you, Jess and Gen.

You wish you could say it stayed the same after Jess passed away, but you did leave her. and you can’t find it in yourself to say that you’d do it differently. Because you used your grief to be a good mother this past year, you spent so much time with the kids. Even with Carla gone too. You and Mark kept it together.

You’re not sure how seeing Sam broke you the most of the events.

“She loves you. I think— we just have to remember her love, right?” Gen sniffles and you imagine her nodding her head, a hand running through her hair like she usually is when she’s sad.

“Yeah. Yeah, sweetie, but—” Gen breathes heavily through her nose. “But why’d you call? You haven’t— it’s been a year, what’s going on?”

“I, uh, saw someone. Today.”

“Who?”

“Sam Winchester.”

“The criminal?”

Explaining to Gen about Sam pretending to be FBI and how he came to ‘investigate’ Carla’s death after being ‘wanted’ in a few states almost gives her a heart attack. You want to share her worry about the safety of your family when he’s in proximity, but Sam looked all but broken when he was standing at your doorstep.

“So I kind of threw them out and now they’re giving Mark hope again that they’ll find out what happened, but just— it sucks. He’s such a liar and I had no idea.”

“Yeah, but, maybe you should report it to the police, you know?”

You frown, shaking your head. “Police? He isn’t even wanted in here. I think it’s in… I don’t know Tennessee?”

“Still. He could be dangerous and he knows where you live now.” You aren’t sure what to think. Is she right? Is Sam dangerous? He doesn’t look it.

“Sure. Sure, Gen, I’ll see what I can do. I just, wanted to talk to you and maybe see if we can go out, you know? If you want, if you’re free.”

“Yeah. Of course. Next Friday? We can go to Lilo’s Diner, if you want.“ Before Jess passed away when you got married, you couldn’t help but find an apartment next to here’s and Gen’s. In hindsight, it was an impulsive decision since Mark told you to choose the location, but you couldn’t help wanting to be next to her. But the real kicker was that before you settled down, you had completely forgotten that where you are right now, Lawrence, Kansas, is Sam’s hometown.

“Yeah. That’s good, I don’t mind.” You both say your goodbye’s, and it’s a little tear-filled, but it gets the job done.

You’re not completely convinced that you’ll give Sam in, but you know you need to consider it. If your daughters are ever in danger… you don’t know you’d do. You sigh, getting up and dimming the lights. “God, I wish you could— I need help.” You’re done crying, you just need help, “just— please, i wish I could just— I love him but I don’t even know if he’s it for me, I wish I could think without him in the picture, fuck.”

And if cursing while trying to pray isn’t message enough for you to just go to bed, you don’t know what is.

“Mommy? Mommy!” You stir from your sleep. It’s been forced upon you to be a light sleeper since you’ve had your kids, and one of them shouting your name alerts you.

Emmy’s jumping on your chest, “Door. Mommy, door.” You groan, running a hand through your untamed hair and getting up groggily. At least she’s in a good mood for whatever reason.

You put on a shirt that you haven’t crumpled in your sleep and take a hair tie with you downstairs as you attempt to make it look decent, swinging the door open before you can ask who it is.

Oh. “Sam?”

“Good morning.” There’s no Dean this time, just Sam. Just very tall and intimidating Sam looking at your with the most innocent look you’ve ever seen but you still can’t help clutching your daughter to your leg, mumbling about her going upstairs but she doesn’t listen. “I— I’m sorry, I came to tell you about… Mark.”

Your eyes widen, shaking your head in question and confusion because mark is upstairs, right? He’s in your bed, right next to you. You just hadn’t checked, that’s all. “What about him? He’s fine.”

Sam frowns, loosening his tie. Maybe you should loosen the collar around your neck. Where is Mark? He was just out with friends last night and you’d gone to sleep after praying, you must’ve missed his call telling you he’ll spend the night elsewhere. Except he’s never done that. Mark’s never spent the night anywhere other than right next to you since you’ve gotten married.

But it’s fine, you’re overreacting and Sam is here to tell you Mark was found drunk or something. He won’t get arrested. You need him. His kids need him. “Hey, hey, you with me? Mark’s— I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean?” You’re out of breath even if you’ve just gotten out of bed, “what do you mean you’re sorry? What did you do? Where is he?”

Emmy’s tugging on your pants, even if you can hardly feel it, but you do feel Sam stepping into your house, his hands moving closer before you flinch a way from his touch, in a result Emmy’s hands is forced away from your leg. You apologize to your little girl, leaning down to scoop her in your arms.

“Mark’s—”

“Shut up, Sam. Stop it. Where is he?”

You can see his heart breaking, you can feel it. Maybe from his eyes alone, even. But it doesn’t even register to you, because why is he sad? What does he have to be upset about?

“They can’t find him. He’s… gone.”

“Gone where? Is he at work? It’s— only eight or something—”

“It’s eleven.” Your breath hitches and you shake your head. What does that even mean coming from a liar? Sam’s nothing but a liar, he always has been he’s—

“Where are the police?” he says your name, soft and you shout, “Where are the police?” Your daughter flinches at your tone and cuddles her head into your chest. “Don’t— I’ll report you. You and Dean, if you don’t tell me what you did. What did you do?”

It’s futile. They didn’t do anything. Deep down you know that.

But you’re not sure if you can listen to ‘deep down’ when your husband is not next to you. Calming and comforting you.

“Sam,” you breathe, putting her down, “Sam, where is he?” He doesn’t step closer, brushes a hand down his face, “Sam.” You try, one last time before you’re sobbing, hitting at his chest. “Where is he? Where is— Mark, where is he! Sam!”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t tell you that everything will be okay and that Mark’s only gone for the day. He holds your body close to his and you bury your head into his chest, your tears wet against your face as you fist your hands in his shirt. Your eyes burn, they’re hard to open. Maybe it’s for the best.

Your world doesn’t spin often, but when it does, you have Mark. You quit your first job, Mark’s there. You’re low on money, Mark’s there. Your kids seem like they hate you, he’s by your side.

What are you supposed to do now? What are you supposed to do other than pray for him back?

Because you did this. You prayed yesterday and now look what happened, he’s gone. Just like you wished for, even if you’d don’t really mean it then. You mean it now, to have him back.

Sam lets go of you eventually, to get you a glass of water and coax your daughter into her room. You’re not sure what the time is, just that your eyes couldn’t get more swollen if you tried, and you will.

“Here.” He hands you a cup and you don’t look up at him as he takes the seat next to you again making you briefly wonder if you’re having an out of body experience. You could be. You must be.

“I should call the police.” You say through sniffles and Sam sighs. “You should… go, I guess. Since you’re not real police.”

“I’ll stay. We talked to them anyways and they think we’re FBI so— ”

“But I’ll tell them.” It’s low. Defeated. Sam doesn’t speak for a second and you don’t want to imagine the look on his face. You can’t. “Just go.”

His scoff shouldn’t be as comforting as it is. “No. You’re not pushing me away when you need me.” He tilts your head up, his finger hooking under your chin, “I’m not leaving you again. Never again.”

“It’s— it’s not like that, right now. Sam, go.”

“Tell them. Call the police, make them come here, and tell them I’m not FBI, tell them my real name, I don’t care, they can arrest me when I know you’re okay.”

Is it fair to say you never want to be okay if it means Sam leaving? “My kids.” You whisper, as a thought. Something you put out there.

“Dean can take care of them if you want us to go to the police.” You nod, touching your cheek to check if you’re still crying. Your eyes are so raw you can’t even tell at this point. Sam takes his phone out to call Dean but you hold his wrist.

“Gen. Call Gen.” He gapes in surprise, is about to argue, but seems to see something on your face because he pulls up her number from your phone. You think she’s not going to respond as the phone starts to run out of rings but when she finally does you collapse with a sigh, one hand on your heart, the other holding Sam’s arm in support. And you’re fucking sat down.

“Gen. Hey, it’s Sam. Sam Winchester.” Shit. Shit. She doesn’t like Sam. Shit. “Yeah— oh. Yeah, she threatened already. Look, Mark’s gone and we can’t find him, she’s asking if you can come over and watch her kids.”

You don’t hear the conversation. You don’t hear except white static as you leave Sam on the couch and go to your kids’ room. Your oldest is on her IPad. The youngest is playing with her blocks. They both look at you expectantly for food and you give them a watery smile. “Aunt Gen is coming over. She’ll get you breakfast, okay?”

They both seem pleased, but your oldest isn’t stupid. She’s only four but Mark had been gifted as a child. Not enough to skip grades, but he was intelligent, both emotionally and academically. And apparently your oldest has inherited that because she walks up to you with a smile.

“You’re okay, Mommy.” You’re not sure if it’s a question or not but you wipe your face in case it’s showing anything other than that fact. “We will have fun with Genny.”

“No, baby, I’m going somewhere and then we’ll have fun with Genny, but you’re staying alone first.”

“I will take care of Emmy.” Your heart clenches as you nod quickly, taking her in for a hug so she doesn’t see the tears.

“Good job, Jess.” Even saying her name. She’s your daughter, she isn’t even really Jess but saying her name… you can’t do this right now.

When you get back down dressed for the station, Sam’s in the kitchen cooking. “I’m dressed. we should go.”

He looks back to see you are, in fact, dressed. He hands you a cup of water, “drink this and we’ll go.”

You frown but oblige anyway. You’re a doctor, it isn’t hard to tell what he’s doing, with the amount of tears you’ve cried, you’d think you’re dehydrated too. “I’ll text Gen that there’s omelets. She can make sandwiches when she’s here.”

You acknowledge the words, handing him the cup. He locks the door behind him just as Gen parks her car and it’s the calmest you’ve felt all morning. At least your kids will be safe. You give her a hug that lasts about two seconds then walk to the Impala as fast as you can, certain you won’t be driving in this condition.

The police station is a whirlwind of screaming and yelling. No one’s telling you enough, you need to know now, and you might have accidentally called Sam his real name once, though you’re hoping no one caught it. Four hours later you’re crying and shaking your head in the lobby.

The lady at the desk tries to calm you down while Sam talks to them inside, “Please, Miss, you need to remain calm while we—”

“My husband is gone, just off the face of the earth, how the fuck does that happen?”

“We’re not sure.” You look back hoping it’s Sam but find an older looking guy. Darker skin and maybe even a little taller than Sam? Though that must be impossible, they could be the same height. “His friends all say he was on his way home the last time they saw him and we found his car by a neighborhood next to yours but it was parked. He could have just went somewhere else.”

“I called him a thousand times on my way here and Mark never spends the night out of the house.”

“Have you considered a different possibility?” He asks, taking a step closer and you suddenly get intimidated by the demeanor if not his height, “maybe he did it on purpose. To spend the night somewhere else.”

“What on Earth is wrong with you? Are you all really that bad at your job that the only excuse you can come up with is him cheating? Who the hell gives you the right to—”

“We’re merely covering all our basis.”

“No you’re a bunch of—” Someone clears their throat so loudly it makes you jump. Jump right into their arms— into Sam’s arms.

“She’s worked up, considering.” The police, whoever the fuck that man is nods understandably and you’re ready to elbow Sam as you stare daggers at the one in front of you. “But she doesn’t make a point. It’s not likely Mister Davis is having an affair,” he moves your body out of the way to stand toe-to-toe with the man, “and even if he is, do you think it’s smart to threaten his wife with it?”

“Threaten? You’ve got it wrong, Agent.”

“Please don’t speak to Misses Davis again, it’s clear you can’t handle this case.” Sam places both hands on your shoulders to walk you out of the station and when you’re finally alone you slap his hands away.

“What the hell? What about Mark—”

“They don’t have anything on him. We called everyone, we tried to track his phone but it’ll take a while. Me and Dean tried tracking it before I came over anyway and we couldn’t find it, they won’t have better luck. They usually put them in warehouses so I told them to check all the ones in the area. Dean is on it too. Look, we need to talk.”

“Warehouse— what? Does now seem like the time for talking?” You scold. Even Sam's speaking in code.

“Did you… wish for something yesterday?”

Your heart slows. “Like what?”

“Like… wanting him gone.”

Your heart stops.

You tend to run things over in your head a lot.

“Mark? Mark, come back in, the kids don’t need—”

“No way. If my angel says she needs a cookie, we’re getting her a cookie.” You sigh affectionately, a smile threatening to split your face open. He’s been so good since you’ve gotten married, but you thought that would all stop the second you told him you’re pregnant. It couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s been more engaged, beautiful with your kids, even years later.

He’s the best father you could have dreamed of. He’s a damn good husband too, but Mark is… complicated. His family is complicated. He grew up in such a toxic environment that during the first year of dating him, he’d cursed you out in front of his entire family. You got married anyways, he’s a good man, and you know he is. He’s changing slowly, trying to better himself because he has you.

And it isn’t even something he’s just ‘saying’, you know that because now? Four years later, Mark would eat up anyone in his family that says one word about you, whether it be one of his sisters or one of his brothers’ wives.

Two hours later Mark comes back with Jess and two boxes of cookies. When you put Jess to bed he hands you a box of your favorite chocolate, the expensive kind. And it isn’t like you’re broke, you’re doing okay to spoil yourselves every once in a while, but you’re also saving up for when the kids grow up since you know they’ll be more demanding than they are now. So while it didn’t put a dent in anything, it was unnecessary. But he did it. He did it and he kissed you and you’re pretty sure that was the night Emmy came into your lives. Or would be coming in nine months.

Sometimes you wish you could stop ruining things over in your head.

“Come back to me, fuck, come back.” Sam’s saying your name over and over as your eyes flutter open. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah.” You groan, a hand coming up to touch your head before he stops you. “What happened?”

“You blacked out and fell on the concrete. They did an X-ray, it came back okay but you’re not eating enough. Don’t touch your head though.”

“Why?” you reply stubbornly though you're grateful he cared enough to get you to the emergency room as fake FBI. Speaking of, you guys should probably head out. “Doesn't matter, let's go home. I'll pay the—”

“I already paid, let's go.” you frown as he helps you up. Thankfully, you don't need any assistance walking, not that Sam gets the message, his hand on your lower back as he nods at the receptionist.

The car ride is as silent as you expected it to be with your multitude of questions. About Mark, Sam, your kids. About everything. The most important one is where the hell is Mark, but every time you think of that you're back to crying. The second is where did Sam get the money to cover your bill? Seeing as he's not a lawyer or anything.

“You okay?” He asks, giving you a glance before his eyes are back on the road. He must realize how stupid the question is because he follows it up with: “We’re going to find him. I promise.”

“Yeah.”

“Dean’s already—”

“How? How are you and Dean— I don’t even know if Dean went to college,” no offense, he just doesn’t look the type, “and you all but dropped out of law. On what earth will the two of you find my husband?”

“Look—”

“Real answers!” You scream, slamming your hand down on your leg, the friction from your jeans sting as you take it back. “Real answers Sam, or I swear God…”

He sighs, parking on the side of the road. “You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“You passed out.”

“Try me, because my husband is missing and I left my kids with Gen who I haven’t seen in almost a year and now I’m sitting next to Sam Winchester from Stanford—”

“It’s a curse.”

“What.”

When someone says something is a curse they usually follow it up with trying to sell you some oils for way too high that will ‘break the curse’. But that’s not what Sam is doing. Sam is talking to you like it’s logical. Like he’s sane. He’s telling you, with a straight fucking face, that monsters are real and that after he was born here a witch placed a curse on the town.

He’s not trying to sell you anything except that this is the truth. To him, this is real. And he’s looking at you like you’d be stupid not to believe that a witch placed a curse on an entire town so that whatever someone wishes, it comes true.

You wished for better mental stability everyday but that never came.

“Sam,” you sigh sympathetically, “look, I don’t know what happened before you graduated, but you’re a good man, you should not let—”

“What? No! What I'm telling you is real! Monsters and werewolves, vampires, witches, they’re all real. Now you need to think before you answer, did you wish for anything yesterday? Anything regarding Mark?”

“Wish? Are you�� no! Of course not.”

“Please, you need to level with me here. Anything at all.” You should get out of the car, slam the door right in his face, and tell everyone that Sam Winchester— straight A student in Stanford— has officially gone crazy. And you’re witnessing it first hand.

You don’t end up doing any of that except for slamming the door in his face. That, he deserves. For lying and for finding you and giving you hope about your husband when he’s obviously gone crazy and for making you leave your daughters when you could be with them right now.

He gets out of the car, and when you glance over at him he looks like he’s going to try and convince you of something again but his eyes widen. When you face whatever it is that he’s staring at— it’s just Missouri.

“Missouri?” He asks, frowning and you start to notice that this is, in fact, his hometown. He probably knows a lot of the older locals. “What are you doing here? I thought we told you to stay inside ‘till we find whoever cursed the town.”

Now you’re really confused. Where on earth does get off playing with an old lady’s head? “I know you did not just call me old, sweetie.”

What. The. Hell.

“See!” Sam can’t help but let out with a relieved sigh. As if that actually shows anything other than you’re seriously creeped out.

“No reason to be creeped, darling, but Sam’s right. Monsters exist and a witch did curse this godforsaken town.”

“How did you—”

“I’m psychic.” Right. And you’re Beyoncé.

“I wouldn’t count on it. I heard you sing early in the morning and even the birds couldn’t take it.”

“Rude— and also how the fuck—”

“I can read minds. Though I don’t usually, it seemed like the only way to get you to believe poor Sam. He’s a good man,“ he seems to be getting told that a bunch, “and he only means to help. Him and Dean are hunters.”

Is the sun too hot? Probably, considering it’s the sun. Maybe you should sit in the shade. Or pass out. Passing out sounds better than finishing this conversation. Missouri sighs, a hand on Sam’s cheek. “It was good seeing you, sweetie. Get her home and tell her everything she needs to know. She gets migraines—”

“I know.”

“Good. Get her anything she needs but especially some cold air.”

“To sum it up,” you gulp down the rest of your cup before facing Sam, “Monsters are real. You’re a hunter. Your dad died, and Dean never went to college?”

“Sure, I guess. Is that all you got? That’s a very… random summary.”

“Right but if Dean’s never went to college and Monsters are real, I think the apocalypse starting really doesn��t sound that far-fetched.” Apparently by monsters he also meant Angels. And prophets. And too many things he just told you— like Lucifer and Micheal the archangels and so so so many things.

He chuckles, refilling your glass. “What is it with the Dean and college thing with you.”

You shrug, taking the cup with a small thanks. You’re probably going to need to go to the bathroom soon with how much he’s been keeping you hydrated. “I don’t know, he seems smart, I’m surprised ‘s all. can we call him and ask what he found yet?”

Sam’s face falls like you slapped him and he sighs. “The wish— I’ll tell you what I think happened, okay?” Not okay. “You wished for Mark to disappear or to go yesterday while he was coming back from the night out and the witch— the way her curse works is that she has demons working for her. Demons chained to this town to do her dirty work for her—”

“Sam, people wish for a million dollars everyday, they don’t actually get it.”

“These are demons, it isn’t ’you wish for something’, you get it. It’s ‘you curse someone out’, they get it.” You didn’t mean to curse him out. You hadn’t even really wished for anything, just prayed. And the praying wasn’t that serious. It wasn’t like you wanted Mark gone, you just wanted answers for whatever’s going on in your heart. “Carla,” Sam runs a hand over his mouth, like it’s paining him to tell you this, to explain to you why your niece died. “A teacher cursed her out in school the day before she was gone.”

No. No, there’s just no fucking way. Missouri is almost eighty something, why on earth would she lie, though?

“Please, I know it’s scary and it’s hard to believe but I need you to trust me. What did you wish for yesterday?”

“I— I don’t even remember—”

“Anything. Anything at all—”

“I wished he was out of the picture.” His breath hitches. Yours almost comes to a stop. “But— I wasn’t wishing, I was praying. I asked— I prayed that I could think clearly without thinking of him. I didn’t want him to go, Sam, I swear—”

His eyes soften as he pulls you to his chest, “I know. I know, sweetheart.”

Maybe the crying won’t ever stop.

“Dean found the witch. Or at least he thinks. We can’t kill the demons until the witch breaks the chains so I’m going to go help him follow the lead, are you okay to stay alone?” Sam says when he comes back into the room after a short phone call with his brother.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You’re not fine. You’re nowhere near fucking fine. You’re the furthest point away from ‘fine’. But Sam is going to… go kill demons? Play dress up with Dean? Who knows anymore. So you let him go with a goodbye and ’stay safe’. As you close the front door, you give it your back and Jess is standing there with her school book in hand.

“Where’s Daddy?”

Oh. God. You don’t even— you can’t possibly think of a way to tell your kids their father is gone. The entire time Sam had explained the supernatural thing, not once had he brought up that Mark might still be out there somewhere.

How do you tell your daughter you killed her father?

“Jess, dad’s out right now. He’s very sick, and we can’t see him ‘till he gets better.” She frowns, tilting her head in question— you’re sure you have no answers to cover it. “but ‘till then, we’ll…”

Maybe you should be holding yourself together a little more for your children. They shouldn’t see you break apart because who will take care of them? But it hits you. You’ve spent the whole day looking for Mark and being so sure he’s out there somewhere that you believed Sam when he said he was taken by a demon.

But the fact of the matter still stands. Mark is gone. Your husband is gone.

And maybe it shouldn’t hit you so hard when you killed him.

The next four hours go by in a blur. Your kids are fine, they’re drawing and coloring. They’re happy they get to miss school today and you’re pacing the halls, wishing you’d taken up Gen on her offer to stay with you. How did she get through this? How did she get through this alone?

You haven’t even called your parents, or Mark’s. His siblings. A funeral. This is so real. It’s happening, you’re losing— you lost your husband. He’s gone and you didn’t even get a warning. Where was your warning?

Maybe you should lay down for a few hours. Your starting to see things move around in the windows.

It’s officially freak-out-hour. Twelve AM. You call Sam twice before he answers.

“I think my house is haunted.” You’ve never found your voice that shaky in your life.

“You what? Are you okay? Are the kids okay?”

“They’re fine. In their room, but the lights keep flickering and I keep seeing something moving.”

“Shit. Do you have salt? A lot of salt?”

“Some. Enough for food, I haven’t stocked up for a demon battle.”

“Get as much as you can and make a circle. Ghosts can’t cross salt circles.”

“What if it’s a demon?”

“There are— are you sure? Are you sure there’s something? Did you piss anyone off today?”

You think. Hard. “I don’t—” Oh. “The police station guy.”

“No, no. Fuck! Make the circle, get in it, I’m on my way.” He hangs up and the circle comes out uneven and sloppy. You’re shaking so much by the time you’re done you don’t notice it’s only small enough to fit your kids. When you go check on them, they aren’t in their room.

“Jess? Emmy?” Sam’s voice wakes you up from your nap against the hard wall. That’s why your head is pounding. “Hey, hey, where’s mommy?” That’s all you hear before his heavy steps run up the stairs and he finds you in the hallway.

“Fuck. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You shake your head, hoping to ease him, though that’s the least of your concerns. “Are they okay? Are Emmy and Jess okay?”

“Yes, yes,” he breathes out, leaning down to engulf you in a surprising hug that you return with no hesitation. You were hallucinating. You never thought you’d be so thankful for hallucinating. “Are you,” he’s shaking. His words anyways, his hands are too still for your liking. “Are you okay? I tried calling but you didn’t answer, and I came here as fast as I could. I thought something happened to you—”

“I haven’t eaten, and I’m so tired—did, did you kill the witch?” You sound crazy. You sound stupid and twelve.

And yet, the second his soft, “Yes.” Is out, you visibly relax in his arms. He’s holding you, your head on his chest, and it’s the calmest you’ve felt in the past twenty four hours.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“How do I know you’re real? How do I know you’re not… a monster or possessed.”

“Tests,” he sighs. Sam always looked like he wanted to keep his real life away from you, keep you at a distance, so the more you ask, the more he feels a part of him breaking. He wanted better for you.

“Shapeshifters burn up in contact with silver, like your ring,” he interlaces your fingers together and his skin doesn’t sizzle. “Demons show themselves if you say ‘Christo’.” You look up but there’s nothing. He’s still there. “Ghosts will leave the person they’re possessing if you hit them with rocksalt.”

“They can possess people?”

“Only really powerful ones.”

“There should be a crash course on monsters.” You frown, leaning in closer, like maybe you don’t need a crash course. Just him. Just Sam.

He lets out a small laugh, a polite one, but you feel it against your head and it brings you so much relief, you’re scared what you’re going to do when he’s gone.

Because he will be gone. He will go and he’ll leave you and you’ll have to deal with—

“Hey, hey, calm down for me. What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath, but all it does is run tears down your cheeks, “I have to tell Jess and Emmy. Emmy’s so young and she wouldn’t understand, she’ll just want Daddy, what am I supposed to say, Sam? And Jess… she asked about him. I killed—.”

“No, stop it, don’t. You were thinking. A thought, that’s all. I bet he thought the same thing a hundred times, it’s normal, you’re married, it’s just unfortunate a demon heard yours.”

You’re still scared, that doesn’t really comfort you. You’re sharing your earth with demons. Demons. That came from hell. Which means hell, heaven, they exist and mark is in one of them right now.

You end up telling your oldest with tears in your eyes and Jess comforts you instead of crying. She’s telling you ‘it’s okay’ and ‘daddy loves you’. And you’re thinking what you did to get such a beautiful and inspiring daughter. She even brushes your hair out of your face like you do for her when she’s crying.

You tell her the same. Her daddy loved her, and that she should tell you how she feels when she’s decided. Anytime Emmy asks about Mark you tell her he’s up in heaven and she frowns. It’s fine, you didn’t expect her to get it this young anyways, but… it’s unfair that she has to.

The past 48 hours have been hectic to say the least, devastating, too. Sam hasn’t left your side during them. Despite him being tall and somewhat scary if you look at it from a four-year-old‘s point of view, your kids have only asked a couple of questions. You don’t think they noticed that he went from ‘police’ to ‘mommy’s friend’, and you’re grateful.

Gen ran over to your house the second you called her to tell her what you know. You don’t get into detail, just that Mark’s gone. He’s— God, you can’t even say it, he passed away. What kind of shit term is that anyway? Passed? To where, heaven? Hell? How are you supposed to know?

Does Sam know? If Sam told you angels are real it must be because he’s met them… right? And he met the archangels, surely he has connections— what are you saying! You’re talking about Sam having connections with God? Who, by the way, Sam didn’t mention.

Gen holds you as you sob into her arms in your own room, Sam sitting with your children. They’re so innocent and fragile, you don’t want them to see you crying incase they think they have to, but the truth is, you’re severely dehydrated and you’re sure you’re losing your job at the hospital since you haven’t called to say you’re not coming in.

It’s a gut-wrenching 48 hours. Who knows what the next will bring.

When you sober up from the frenzy you’re in, you call your parents, then Mark’s siblings. His father died years ago and his mother has amnesia so that’s one less conversation you have to go through.

You only call his second oldest sister, she cries before you finish your sentence and promises she’ll tell the others. You can’t. You know you can’t.

Gen tries to talk to you about Sam, you shut her down pretty quick. “Can you take the kids during the funeral?”

“Sweetie, I should come with you…” You shrug just as Sam makes his way to the kitchen where you’re both talking. Gen shoots him daggers as he walks over to you, hand on both your shoulders. “What—”

“The kids are asleep, I think. Dean needs me back at the motel so I’ll go check on him then come back, does that sound okay?” You nod absentmindedly. All you heard was that Sam’s leaving, and even if every part of your body doesn’t want that, he’s been your rock through all of this, you know you have to let him go.

“Okay, I’ll see you in an hour.” He places a kiss on your hair that helps you relax, like most of his touches do, and when he leaves the kitchen, Gen is right on his heel.

You hear them raise their voice and argue before he leaves. All you can think is that you hope the kids don’t wake up.

You hope you wake up from this nightmare.

Who decided black was a good color for funerals? It’s so… depressing. As if you all aren’t already dispiriting the entire house with your tears, now you’re all blending in with the kitchen supplies too.

You hold his sisters the most, or they hold you, either way there’s some type of holding going on and it’s therapeutic for both of you. The oldest looks like she hasn’t stopped sobbing since yesterday. Since you told them all about it.

The police announced that he’s dead when you went to check again, and said there was a serial killer on the loose, the same guy who killed Carla, and they found a body in one of the warehouses. Which is total bullshit because demons wouldn’t throw a body in a warehouse, they’d probably… take it to hell?

Sam told you that it’s him, since you didn’t want to confirm it yourself, and you told his family that you were the one who confirmed it. You’re not sure how much of a bad person that makes you since none of them offered to check for you instead.

Sam stayed with the kids in Gen’s house with her kid so maybe they did figure something out when they were screaming at each other, not that you care. You trust Sam.

He’s the only person you trust.

There’s soft music thrumming out the speakers, though you lower the sound so people in the house can talk. One of the siblings brings their mother and you break down at the sight of her. She knows she has kids, she knows Mark, hell, she talks about him all the time. But more than that she loves you. His parents loved you the most out of their in-laws and while it created a rift in the family, it never did anything but humble you. You loved his dad, you were the first to get to his house when you heard what happened.

But seeing his mum— that you couldn’t take.

It’s a few hours before they decide to leave. His brothers, both of them, come up to you asking about burying the casket. They’re doing it right next to his other brother and father. It’s family ground, or whatever it’s called.

You tell them you haven’t made any arrangements. They tell you not to worry. You hug both of them even if they did nothing to ease your concerns, at least that’s one less responsibility.

Gen holds your hand as you pace from the kitchen to the living room. There are kids, his family's kids, his friend’s kids, they’re all walking around, and you shouldn’t feel like this, you know that, but you can’t help the apprehensive emotions circling your heart and squeezing tight.

The brothers leave to make the arrangements and everyone who isn’t immediate family has said their prayers and goodbyes. You’re all alone. Not that alone considering he has seven sisters and each one of them has at least three kids (one of them actually has 5 kids and two grandkids), but alone enough that none of you feel like you should socialize. Everyone’s in their own circle, you’re lying your head on Gen’s chest, hoping this horror show will end if you just close your eyes. Maybe you’ll hear his voice again, but it doesn’t happen.

Except you hear his voice with every breath you take saying you’re the one who killed him. You’re the one who murdered your husband.

One Week After

“Jess, I swear to God, if you’re not done with your spelling homework—”

“She’s done.” You hear Sam’s voice get closer as he enters the kitchen and you nod softly at him. He frowns at you.

And you know why.

“I helped her finish it.” He continues, walking up to you to greet you with a kiss to your head, but it’s not genuine. As much as Sam tries, his movements are all strained and it’s your fault. You haven’t stopped wearing black.

“When did you come in?” You leave your door open most of the time in case one of his sisters comes to check up on you, or… or if Sam does. It gives his sisters comfort that you’re leaving your house open for them. The brothers haven’t spoken to you much since the funeral, but you know they’re grieving. Mark’s older brother lost his daughter and his brother in the span of a year.

“Just a few minutes ago. Are you cooking?” You nod, looking away to check on the pasta. It’s a simple dinner, most of them have been since last week. You finally called the hospital yesterday and just as you were about to get a lecture from your attending, you told her what happened. She gave you an extra week off and you couldn’t reject it if you wanted to.

“Pasta and Chicken tenders— it’s stupidly basic. I used to make it when we first got married, you know,” you let out a small humorless laugh, “and he hated me for it. Told me he’s a man and that he would starve if that’s what I thought food was. I learned how to make every dish his mother knew right then and there.”

Sam chuckles at your memory and it gives you a warm fuzzy feeling that you wish you could push away. These feelings aren’t supposed to be for Sam. You suppose in a way they aren’t. A pet of them, the majority, belong to the story, the fondness behind it. Imagining him sitting on the sofa of your old house scolding you half-playfully about the importance of meals the second week of your marriage.

“So why’d you come over?” He shrugs, sits down on the chair in front of the counter that’s facing you. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner. Emmy already likes you. I don’t know about Jess.”

“Right. She’s a hard one to open up.” You smile at the description of your daughter, because it’s the truest thing you’ve heard. With the mention of that— maybe it’s time to address the elephant in the room.

You spin back, hands clasped together and you spit it out, “I didn’t see you at Jess’s funeral.”

His face drops, which makes your stomach drop but whatever. You have to talk about this. He probably has as many questions as you do, since you’re not aware of anyone keeping in contact with Sam.

“I didn’t attend. It was hard for me.” You furrow your eyebrows, unclasping your hands to fold them against your chest. “I mean… I didn’t talk to anyone after Stanford. I mourned. ‘Just didn’t see a point in showing up.” That’s a shitty excuse. And you hope he knows it too because you looked for him.

You searched for Sam at that funeral, you even asked about him when a few students came. God, even Brady came. How fucked up is it that Brady showed up and not her best friend. “Did you even keep in contact with Jess when you left?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

No. You were heartbroken when you and Sam split up. “We didn't really bring you up.”

“Right. We did, for a couple of years, but I moved around a lot and I got a new phone every few months. Eventually she got a kid and we just lost contact.”

“What about when you… you know, got convicted and stuff.”

“I— not exactly, you know what Dean and I do, we’re trying to help people, but we can’t just walk around telling them we think there’s a vampire in the neighborhood. FBI, police officers, they trust those people.” You nod. It’s still not an answer. He notices. “Yeah, she still talked to me after, I’m not sure she even knew. I mean, you had to really be up to date with the news to hear our names.”

“No, you just had to live in Lawrence and give two shits about your surroundings. We’d be lucky if Jess even opened her phone to check for something productive, ‘s probably why she never found out. Gen got scared when Jess died, really paranoid for Rue, so she took it upon herself to stay informed. Your name came up a time or two.”

He sighs, scrubs his hand down his face and gives you his back to rest his elbows on the counter. You don’t mind, liking the silence as you stir this, taste that. Cooking’s been an excellent distraction for life lately. Even if it’s the most basic thing to exist.

Sam ends up staying for dinner but Jess stares at him with questions as she sticks to your side. She also has the biggest look of betrayal when Emmy asks him to hold her. She enjoys how tall he is and he doesn’t seem to mind it. By bedtime, you decide to talk to Jess about him.

“Why don’t you like Sam?”

“He’s a giant, and he made daddy sad.”

Oh. “When he was here with the other police?”

She nods.

“He didn’t make daddy sad, sweetheart, he asked about Carla.” Who is also in heaven. Seems like they have a couple of slots open.

You speak to her a little more, about Sam, about school tomorrow, about daddy and how she misses him, you miss him too. He probably misses you two the most. You kiss her head before shutting the lights off and running downstairs to wish Sam a goodnight.

Until you notice him half asleep on your couch, his head resting on his own shoulder in a way that could never look comfortable. You bite your lip in anxiety.

On one hand, you care for Sam and you don’t want him to drive tired. On the other, what if someone sees him spending the night?

What if one of Mark’s sisters comes unannounced?

You decide to suck it up and be a good person, patting him lightly. “Sam, Sam,” he suddenly sits up straighter, slightly disoriented, “C’mon, let’s get you on a bed.”

He pouts his lips like has more to say but ends up listening to you anyways. Halfway up the stairs he remembers his manners. “Oh. Oh, no, no—”

“You’re already halfway up the stairs, let’s just go.”

“I won’t intrude, I’ll just get back to the motel, I don’t know why I crashed like that.” You put a hand on his shoulders, looking him in the eyes intensely to give your best ‘no bullshit’ look.

“Sam Winchester, if I have to convince you not to drive half asleep, I will force feed you sleeping pills. Got it?” He lets out a laugh before pulling you in a hug. And he’s one step below you so your head fits perfectly in as you tuck it in his neck.

“Thank you.” You shouldn’t cry again. It’s already been one hell of a week without adding non-Mark related crying. You shouldn’t. But you cry yourself to sleep anyways.

Two Weeks After

“So, how have you been holding up?” You look up from the papers you’re filling to your co-worker. One of the interns that started the same time as you. You’ve gotten quite close with Sage, he’s been a great friend, no matter how little you both talk.

“‘M okay. Thank you for asking.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” You smile tightly before nodding and giving the papers to the nurse.

“Thank you.” You walk away but he follows after you, considering you’re both heading to the same destination, the parking lot. Your first shift back finally in over a week you couldn’t be more grateful.

“Do you want a ride home? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral.”

“No, thank you.” He’s being polite, you know that, but you’re not going to act the part of the widower. You’re fine. Your head’s still above water as much as anyone’s concerned. (Except Sam and Gen.)

Three Weeks After

Your mother is calling again. She won’t stop calling, and you can’t keep canceling. “Good morning, mum.”

There’s no one in the entire world that you love more than your mother. She’s your soulmate, she’s your best friend, she’s your biggest supporter. She’s everything you need and want in a person. She’s the only person who pulled you back from sinking when Jess died.

“Morning, baby girl. How are you?”

“I’m good, how about you and dad?”

She laughs as your father greets you, asking you where you’ve been. That you should call more often. That they’re there for you.

Yeah, that’s the problem.

Five Weeks After

“You’re… self-sabotaging. You don’t want to be happy, you don’t want to be okay.” The second the words leave Sam’s mouth, you try to kick him out with yelling. When that doesn’t work, you hit his chest with your fists, when that does nothing but make him barely stumble, you push yourselves onto him in an attempt to throw him off his balance, instead he holds you as you cry.

What does he know? You’re grieving! You’re mourning. You miss him every single day and second and when his siblings gave you his inheritance you broke down so hard they were scared they’ll have to bring you to a hospital.

He’s right. You’re going through the motions. Your kids ask you why they don’t go to the park on Friday. Your co-workers are worried for you. Gen cooks for you as much as she can. You killed him. You’re not— are you? You are.

“I don’t— want to. I don’t…” he shushes you, with reassuring ‘i know’ and ‘don’t worry, sweetheart’. When you’re calm enough to speak, you apologize for his tear-drenched shirt. And he gives you numbers for different therapists.

Later that week you tell Sam you won’t be doing therapy, but if he wants to help you, you’ll try. He says it’s enough compromise and he gives you a list of things to do.

Make food that’s actually food. Work extra hours (you’ve been going under your normal hours the past three weeks). Friday park dates for the kids. Saturday lunch dates for you and Gen.

Seven Weeks After

You start wearing blue. Your favorite dress with small white flowers on it. You like how you look and it forces you to shave everything you’ve been neglecting lately.

It’s time for you and Gen’s lunch date when you get a call from Sam. “I’m outside.”

You tell him you’ll be right down, spraying on perfume before running down to get your kids. “Hey, Jess, Emmy.” You capture their attention and they put down the iPad to stare at you. Maybe it’s your dress. “Sammy’s outside.” It’s the nickname Emmy’s given him and it makes your heart absolutely melt. “He’s going to drive you.”

On your lunch dates you opt to leave your kids with your sister-in-law, the one you're closest to, anyways. She’s the youngest brother’s wife. But you’re running late and Sam offered to drive them himself. You’ve never left your kids alone with Sam anywhere other than in your house, where they’re comfortable.

His car… It's worrying.

You trust Sam completely and he’s been by your side every day for the past seven weeks but these are your children there’s just no way you’d neglect their feelings like that. But he convinced you that he’ll let them call you the entire time so they’re relaxed and you agreed.

You started locking your door.

Six Months After

“When’s Sammy coming?” You shrug, plating the Mac n’ cheese Jess requested. Today, Emmy is two whole years old.

It’s the first birthday you’re celebrating without Mark. And Sam offered to bring Gen and keep you both company. You’re still close to his family, you’re there once a week, if you can, but you’re slowly falling back to your routine, so you’re about to limit it to once every two weeks. The way Mark liked it.

The way you like it.

You’re picking up more shifts and making more elaborate dishes. One of your attendings told you if you keep putting in the work, he’s thinking of taking you in Cardiovascular. Your first choice would’ve been OBG-YN but if Cardio is what you’re the best in, you’ll take it.

Once all three of you are done and putting your plates away, the doorbell rings and you smile when Emmy runs over. You keep an eye on her as she waits for Jess to open the door. Sam and Gen are loud as they enter your house, hugging the kids. Sam picks Emmy up, teasing her about being two as they make it to the kitchen.

You lean in to hug Gen. Then Sam greets you like he always does, a kiss to your head. Emmy, being the adorable two year old, drops her face to do the same and Sam has to bring her back up with a smile to both your faces.

“Mommy they got velvet! My favorite!” Jess squeals, peeking at the cake and you look at both of your friends with a grateful look.

Mark’s inheritance wasn’t even split upon you and anyone else, it’s all for you. And you’d been saving for a while too, so you’re set. Including your work, it’s going great, but they still insisted on being the ones to bring the cake.

“Okay, we watch frozen first then cake, right, baby girl?” Sam asks Emmy and she smiles, hollering in excitement. He puts her down so she, Gen and Jess can all go put the movie on, he holds you in place. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Thank you for doing this, you really didn’t have to.” He shakes his head, taking a step closer to you, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face. And it’s weird that you know exactly what that means. “I’m better, I guess. Jess and Emmy still talk about him and— I made Mac n’ cheese today— but only because Jess wanted to—”

“Sweetheart, cooking was never about making it big, it was about what made you happy. And you’re happier when you make a big meal, I want you to feel that happiness again.” Maybe. Whatever. You still failed today, but it’s fine. “You did amazing today.” He tilts your chin up and you're forced to focus on his hazel-green eyes, “I’m proud of you. And you look beautiful.” He gestures to the pink top you have on, intricate lace design at your chest then it’s silk down till you tuck it into your jeans.

A little dressing up was in order if you’re having a mini party. Even your kids and Rue are all in dresses.

Sam walks you out to the couch, settles in next to you on one side and Jess on your other. Emmy alternated between all three of your laps.

Maybe you did amazing today.

One Year After

You call your mum as you practically bounce off the walls of your house, biting your lip so you don’t squeal like a five year old (no offense to Jess).

“Mommy?” You jump the second she answers, “I got a job with Doctor Mendez!” And because you speak to her at least four times a week about him, she’s aware of who he is, the Cardiovascular Attending at your hospital. The one who’s due to retire any day now and is looking for a replacement. While he didn’t say it exactly, you’re the only student he picked to teach!

“Really? Oh, that’s wonderful, honey. Oh my God!” You gush over the entire thing to her in a phone call that lasts a little over an hour. Your dad congratulates you too and you run to pick up Jess from football practice so you can tell her too.

She hugs you, although she doesn’t seem to care, and tells you all about her new coach.

You pick up Emmy from the nursery and one of the moms with a son who’s taking an internship at your hospital congratulates you.

For some reason, you break down the second you’re home. “Thank you for— not hating me.” You smile through tears. “I don’t think I would’ve even cared to get this far if I thought you hated me. I love you, Mark, I love you so much and I can’t wait to see you and tell you everything.”

But for once while you’re talking to him, they’re not hostile tears or sorrowful. You’re content.

And not to some extent either. You’re fully content.

Especially when Sam knocks on your door. Your Saturday dinner with him and Gen is tomorrow and you mentioned that you need new clothes to which he decided to make a day of it. Jess decides she wants to hang out with Rue and Emmy follows her sister wherever she goes.

You dust yourself off and open the door. You don’t expect this many emotions when you see him. But they’re there. And they’re really really there.

“Hey.” He smiles, walking in. “Are the girls ready? I parked in the driveway but if they’re gonna take a while I can park it—”

“Why are you still here?” You see his face drop before you scramble to correct yourself, “I meant, you kept saying you move a lot and with Dean, hunting, whatever— but you’re here. It’s been a year and you’re still living in a motel, Sam.”

“I’ve actually, uh, bought an apartment. A while ago.” You can hear your heartbeat In your ears, “It seemed cheaper to just rent an apartment since… since I’m living here.”

“You’re living here— since when? What about Dean?”

“He’s settling down, too. Cicero, he’s living with his girlfriend and her kid.” You’re not supposed to cry again. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? I’ll stop coming over if you—”

“No,” you smile, “no, that’s just. I’m so happy for Dean, he deserves it, you know? Sam, look, I don’t know him well, I barely knew you before you both showed up as cops on my doorstep, but you’re not the same men that I hung out with in Stanford, you guys look so— and I mean this in the most loving way possible— exhausted. I wanted to ask, but it never seems like the time, you know? Just know I want to know about everything. Anything you want to tell me, I want to know. You mean a lot more to me than I ever let on.”

Sam’s eyes are watery but you don’t think you’ve ever seen the man cry and he doesn’t start today, but he does bring you in for a kiss that you don’t expect. He’s slow as he brings you in, like he’s reassuring you you can pull away at any moment, but you don’t.

You let it consume you. You move in, standing taller with your hands on his biceps. It’s a strong hold, like you’re scared he’ll disappear, and maybe he will, who knows?

It won’t stop you.

Because losing people is the way of the universe and not getting close won’t stop Sam from leaving, it won’t stop your kids from hating you, and it won’t stop your friends from moving away.

And maybe it took you a damn long time to get there, but you’re not stupid enough to keep repeating the cycle at twenty eight, especially not with Sam. Never with Sam.

You just hope Mark’s proud of you. You hope he supports you. Because he pushed you here. He’s the only reason you’re able to stand tall and put yourself out there, his love, his worry for you, it changed you.

Or maybe he’s half the reason, you’re pretty strong yourself.

End.

this was super new to me in terms of I did coloring??? on the pics?? look at me beating the non creative allegations (insecurities), and different writing style that I honestly really liked. thank you for reading if you've made it this far.

tag list:

@angzls @chxrrybomb22 @pinkpantheris @ang3ldool @iloveragdollcats

@oohjana18294 @user-2538484747490203746579403 @wattpaduser200 @s0urw00lf @ashlynyyyyy

@strabarrybat @anu-piyakya97 @tranquilitybasegrunge @consistentreader578

#credit: cafe kitsune #supernatural #sam winchester #supernatural imagine #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x y/n #sammy #Stanford Sam Winchester #stanford sam #laila writes !#sam winchester angst #remedy verse

91 notes · View notes

mo0dy-succubus · 1 year ago

Text

Wordcount: 3.5 k (new record???)

Sugarmommy!soyeonxfemreader, Squirting,multiple orgasms,use of toys,oral sex (both give and receive),fingering,scissors,Praising, roughsex,lingerie,aftercare,fluff???,pure smut/filth

You sigh as you take of your study glasses rubbing your eyes before stretching with a yawn. You looked at the time. 1:30 am. You groan before cutting your desk lamp of and hoping into your bed. Your roommate fast asleep way before you while you were up studying for your finals.

You roll over checking you phone one last time as if you already haven't stayed up long enough. You scroll a bit until you noticed a message from a familiar name.

Jelly💖: Are you still up?

You: yeah I just got done studying and in about to head to bed. I've been working and studying non stop

Jelly wasn't her actual name, her name was Jeon Soyeon your sugar mommy, it's still embarrassing to think about that you had to come to these terms to pay off your classes for college, but she was different, she made you feel happy and comfortable and the amount of money she leaves you is always surprising to you. You turn your phone off until it pings again.

Jelly💖: aww poor baby

Jelly💖: I'll tell you what I'll pick you up after classes and we can go shopping, my treat!

Jelly💖: Now get some sleep see you tomorrow ❤

You smiled before turning off your phone one last time for the night.

You wake up feeling groggy as you find your alarm clock button to turn off the annoying noise coming from it. You notice that your roommate is gone for her 6 am morning classes but left you breakfast with a note on it to eat before you head off to class. You laugh at her cute gesture before eating what she left you in the bag.

You still had time left to shower, brush you teeth and get dress before walking to your first class of the day.

You let your professor blab on and on about an essay coming up due by the end of the week. You couldn't care about it as much as you were pretty good with essays and writing them. You get a message from soyeon saying she'll be here soon to pick you up. You smile, happy that it was your last class.

After your two hour class you got up to head to the front of your university. There you see a hot red Lamborghini pull up infront of you. The window rolls down and you automatically smile at the sight you see.

"Hey babe"soyeon said smiling softly at you. You smiled shyly before pulling open the car door and getting in. "Soooo how was school?" Soyeon said putting the car in drive and pulling off. "Ugh where do I even start..." you say, groaning at the thought of your upcoming work assignments you have. "Haha yep that's college for ya, I can get you a tutor if you want" she says looking at the road ahead of her.

"No thanks it's fine really you've already done enough for me" you say blushing. "No no I insist really" . "Soyeon, the shopping spree is fine enough I can assure you!" You smiled sweetly. Soyeon parks the car arriving at the mall and kisses you before unlocking the door.

You step out and begin walking to different stores in the mall picking up anything you found cute and stylish, you would even have to pick it up half of the time soyeon would just notice it for you and would buy it with just the swipe of her card.

Store after store you the bags piled up, you were having a blast, stress-free and relaxed you and soyeon were laughing and having such a good time. "Hey is it ok if we go somewhere I've been meaning to buy something from Victoria secret" soyeon says "I promise one last stop then we can leave theses heels are killing me from walking around so much" she said with a small laugh.

"Sure of course, I just want you to know that I had a great time with you" you say following her. "No problem" she smiled softly before kissing you on the lips. God her perfume was so intoxicating you wanted to kiss her more and more but soon pulled away from the pda that was happening.

You follow soyeon in curiosity in the store she wanted to go to and there you saw it. A lingerie store. Of fucking course. The store she chooses is the store made to make women like you feel insecure. The Victoria secret model like bodies made you nervous about your own looks. Soyeon must have noticed your worried expression because she spoke. "you don't have to go in I just need a new pair of panties and a bra". "Oh no! it's fine! It's just- well- I'm not use to it that's all.." you say walking in. "We won't be here long promise! Like 10 minutes top!" You nod following her just scrolling down while soyeon checked out the store.

You saw her pick up things here and there and go to the counter to pay for her items before signaling you that yall can leave now. You look at the bag of item she just bought curious about what she got."Soooo what did you get?" You say. "Not much just a few things, nothing special" she said. You pout a bit from the lack of response but ignore it. You and soyeon put the bags in the car before driving off to her place.

You only been over at soyeons place a few times but the size of her house always amazed you. You both scramble in through the door setting down the loads of bags you had down in the living room. "Phew...that was a work out haha" soyeon said taking of her glasses and putting her car keys down. "Are you hungry, do you want something to eat?" Soyeon said. "A bit ill eat whatever you want!". "Ok! Give me a moment I'll be back" soyeon said grabbing her phone to order take out before coming back to where you were.

"It's gonna take a while they said ugh people are so slow" she said. "Hey, can you do something for me, I picked out some stuff I wanted to try out and I want your opinion" soyeon said. "Sure I would love to see what you picked out" you say excited to see designer clothing. "Great I'll be back! Ok?" Soyeon said hastily grabbing all the bags with items she got for herself.

You wait on the couch to see what clothes she got always interested in her fashion choices. You waited a minute or so before soyeon called out. "Ready???" You close your eyes excited to see her. "Yep!!". Soyeon walked out infront of you and you opened your eyes.

Automatically taken back by the sight you saw. No no no this was not a clothing haul this was more of an undergarment one. The matching panty and Bralet set she had on made you hot deep inside your core. "You like it??? It was only half off!!" She said her voice excited to show you almost as if she was oblivious to your horny gaze on her.

"Ok I'll show you the next set I'll be back in a jiffy" soyeon said leaving you but couldn't help peaking over the couch arm to watch her ass jiggle with each step she took. "Fuckk..." you sigh rubbing your thighs together the heat in your pussy growing more making you burn up. "Ok here is the next one" she said, it was like the outfit just got Sexier and sexier. "It's very soft and sweet plus it's yellow my favorite color too, but I think the last one is my favorite!" Soyeon walks off before you could even comment on her outfit.

Dazed and overwhelmed with a blush spread across your face the throbbing sensation in your pussy couldn't be satisfied. With a shaky hand you reach down to your clothed clit giving it a firm rub. You let out a small groan feeling some relief. You wanted to keep going oh so bad only to be intrupted and the sound of a doorbell chiming. "Y/n can you get that I'm not decent yet" soyeon shouted from the room.

"Y-yeah I got it!" You stand up frustrated from lack of touch before opening the door and receiving the food you ordered. You thanked the guy and bowed slightly before closing the door only to turn around and see soyeon more exposed then before. You look her up and down noticing her new out she 'loved oh so much'.

It was a pearl G-string and "bra"(considering it has no cups, isn't even a full bra she was basically borderline naked leaving her perky breast in full view). "I-w-ow" you say. Soyeon smiled walking over to you and grabbed the bag of food in your hand and put it down on the table before dragging you by your hand back you the living room. There she pushed you onto the couch before straddling your lap kissing you deeply. Who are you to deny a sexy older woman coming onto you and kissing you. "I saw you eyeing me you dirty girl~" soyeon said her voice wicked and sultry like.

"Fuckk I can't resist your body you are so hot I-". Soyeon cuts you off kissing you before pulling away "Let's just make love already I don't know how much I can wait" the eagerness in her voice only turned you on more. You begin kissing soyeon sloppily moving down to her neck almost gripping every inch of her body. Down to her exposed breast down to her ass. You tug on the g- string causing the pearls to rub against her bare clit causing soyeon to moan out. You felt the wetness from her pussy dripping in your thigh from anticipation.

You pull down the straps of her top biting her shoulder and nipping at her breast. You flip soyeon around so that her chest is up against the couch and her back facing you. You take a long lick of soyeon. Licking and Biting where she had her lotus tattoo to the back of her neck, to the back of her ear kissing, Licking and biting her ear lobesending chills down her spine. " Oh fuck..." soyeon said. You slowly grinded your clothed bottom half against her trying to create friction between you two of you.

You step away allowing soyeon to get up and watch you as you strip down being almost as exposed as she was. You begin kissing her soft lips again as you slowly inch down more and more between her legs. Soyeon bites her nail smiling a bit as she feels you slip the G-string to the side allowing you more access to her cunt. You lick your lips as you see a string of arousal connectioning from the pearl G-string to her pussy.

You smile looking at her sopping wet cunt pulsating in need of touch. Her pussy glistening in the light from the living room lamp. You kiss her thighs leaving soft bites on her smooth silky legs. You let out a sigh of air against her clit and a small shudder. Once you felt like you done enough foreplay and teasing you took a small lick of her sex going up to her special bundle of nerves. "Mmm.." soyeon said her mouth letting out a small whimper. You do your best cleaning the clear slick pouring out of her tight hole before using your tongue to prode at it.

"Fuck baby don't stop~..." soyeon letting out and low but audible groan. Your nose presses up against soyeons clit sending more pleasure throughout her body leaving her legs trembling for more. You pull away, the arousal from her soaked cunt connecting to your tongue only getting you more horny for her, like her juices were an aphrodisiac for you. Soyeon lifts her hips slightly allowing you to fully take off her G-string and to toss it to somewhere irrelevant for now before diving back in kissing her clit and licking her leaking cunt. Soyeon then trembles in your mouth before cumming unannounced

You climb ontop of her kissing her before circling a finger on her clit before slipping it in. Soyeon moans into your mouth before biting your bottom lip softly. You stick in another finger stretching her out more surprised by how tight she was. You remove your fingers admiring her clear and white-ish fluids she left on you before lifting one of her legs up to nuzzle in-between her legs, you positioned yourself accordingly so that your clits come into contact with each other.

You moan a sigh of pleasure as your sensitive bud rubs against hers. "Soyeonie~" you moan out as she takes initiative to hold your hips down and to move against your body. "God this feels so amazing~" soyeon say, her face in complete bliss. Since soyeon was more of not laying down while you were over her it gave her perfect access to your exposed tits.

She kissed all over your soft chest, her lipstick staining your tits, leaving gentle bites,marks,and kisses, claiming you as hers." You are so cute covered in my lipstick baby~" she whispered seductively into your ear. You man in pleasure, both yours and soyeons wetness mixing together. "Keep going~" you beg out reaching your climax. Soyeon rubs against your clit a bit more harshly essentially ripping an orgasm out of the both of yall. You came squirting on soyeons pussy and inner thigh as she returnedthe same."Ahh~" you moan feeling the tension that built up in your stomach calm down a bit before moving off of soyeons shaking body.

"I want more,your body is so beautiful" soyeon said, she held your hand leading you to the bedroom. Soyeon pushes you down on the bed. "Shh~ stay here I'll be back~" soyeon says kissing your lips a few times before walking into her closet. The rush of sexual adrenaline courses through your veins craving her touch more by the second thankfully it wasn't to long before soyeon had came back. Ah that familiar strap-on the one she always used, the one that would fill you all up completely making you feel full making you moan in pleasure. The one you were forced to gag on and take whole.

"You know what to do baby girl~" she said. You dropped to your knees without her having to say anything to you. You lick your lips the begin bobbing your head back and forth getting your sugar mommy's strap all wet with your spit. Soyeon played with your hair gently as you looked her at her with big doe eyes for her to use you. She grips the back of your head shoving her cock to the back of your mouth causing tears to flow from your eyes and saliva to gather at the corners of your mouth.

The silicone tool forcing its way back you choke and gag around her a bit more before she finally pulled away. "Aww my baby sucking mommy off like she has a real dick in her mouth such a slut for me hmm?" . You nod at soyeons comment, your heat growing from her use of words on you. You get up on the bed before turning around and lifting your ass up as high as possible making your best arch (which was relatively good).

Soyeon strokes her cock before pushing into you without leaving any inches of her cock left out of you. "Fuckk~" your eyes flutter open and closed feeling her fill you up so fast. Soyeon smirks before moving her hips into your cunt. God she felt amazing. You clamped around her fake cock basically trapping her inside you

"You are so tight holy shit" soyeon said moaning like it was really her you were clenching around. Soyeons thrust only because faster to break free of your powerful grip. "hahh~" you moan out feeling soyeons tip kiss the entrance of your cervix. It was like soyeon knew what your body needed because she was always good at any sex position she had you in. Your hips began to match up with soyeons as she kept delivering you backshots like there was no tomorrow.

Soyeon rests a firm grip on your ass as well for support and a better leverage to smash into you. "M-ommy~ don't stop~" you say feeling your second orgasm. Soyeon goes faster your ass colliding with her thrust.

Soyeons hands travel all over your body, squeezing your marked tits and tweaking your nipples. "H-holy shit~!!" You moan out trembling as your orgasm finally washed over you. Squirting over soyeons cock as she continues pumping into you helping you ride out your orgasm. "Ha~ haa~ fuckk~" you says as your orgasm and trembling body subside. Soyeon steadily pulls out of you carful not to over stimulate you to much before flipping you over and speading your thighs open for her tongue to lick your wet folds.

"Mmm~" soyeons moans against your clit sending powerful vibrations of pleasure through your body. "S-oyeonie~" you whimper out. "I-it's too m-much~" you say extremely overwhelmed and overstimulated. " I know baby just hold out a bit longer" she says her words innocent and sweet but her eyes shrouded and covered with pure lust and desires. Soyeon pulls back to remove the strap on before slipping her tongue back into you.

Soyeons hand travel back to her own heat as she rubs her clit a bit before slipping her middle and ring finger inside herself, the pleasure of her being filled up causes her to moan into your clit while she ate you out causing you to mewl and whimper again. Soyeon soon tires to ease the pain by kissing your inner thigh lovingly before going back to tongue fucking you. Pleasure soon becomes constantly as you grip onto her hair pushing her down more into your pussy.

Her fingers moving rapidly in and out over her while her mouth is still fixated on your cunt. "Fuck~! fuck~!! fuck~!!!" You say reaching your orgasm way faster this time before squirting onto soyeons face cumming harder than ever before tonight. Soyeon managed to catch your fluids in her mouth before pulling away and standing over your tired and exhausted body before spraying directly on your face as you open your mouth trying to get in all in your slutty mouth.

A loud moan is ripped out of her as she continues squirting directly onto you. You are a bit taken back by hard she was cumming right now but soon her orgasm stopped and soyeon got from over your face. The fluids from soyeons body you got in your mouth you soon snowballed into her mouths as she let out the last bit of her bodily fluids in her mouth onto your tits kissing it a few more times before lying down beside you.

This was probably the best sex you had in a while you were disheveled but were relieved when you wasn't the only one who looked like a wreck. Soyeon looked just as bad if not worse than you, her lipstick smudged,her bangs clinged to her forehead from sweating. "Damn..." soyeon huffed out catching her breath still. "That was..amazing" you say your face completely flushed red not sure if it was you blushing or because your body was hot.

Soyeon rolled over to you holding you so you can snuggle into her chest. The room was silent as yall both just laid their exhausted and almost dead to the world. Soyeon soon got up and walked to the bathroom. You waited and watched her as you heard water running from the bathroom. Soyeon came back and helped you to the bathroom, and there you saw the tub filled up with whole bunch of bubbles and suds. "You can get in I'll be back in a second" soyeon says before leaving. You turn around before getting into the tub full of bubbles.

Soyeon came back with two glasses of wine and the food yall ordered on plates, you assumed that she most have warmed the food back up as it would be nearly impossible for food to still be hot after how long yall had sex for. Soyeon rest the two glasses on the side of the tub before getting in with you. You pick up your plate of food and ate the meal. Happy to have something in your stomach after a while. Soyeon bring the chopstick she was using to eat with towards your mouth giving you a bite of her food. "You eat so well baby" she smiled softly. "Thank you" you say between chewing.

You smiled at how gently she could be during aftercare being carful with you like you were a porcelain doll. Soyeon helps clean you up after she gets done with her self so she could focus more on you. She gets out and gets dressed and changes the sheet while she was at it. After she was done she helped you get dress and go to bed too. Soyeon kisses your lips softly as yall both rest after a long day.

#gidle #gidle smut #kpop #kpop smut #smut #fem!reader #gidle soyeon #soyeon #soyeon smut #jeon soyeon #fluff?#pure filth

136 notes · View notes

crypticjackal13 · 2 years ago

Note

Hi can I request a macaque wukong and mk x sugar mommy reader

Like reader spoils them so much that she would do anything for them like for example if they want a game/food/anything they want she will get it for them but if she finds out that someone threatened them or hurt them she will literally grab her weapon and she will beat the bitch up or anyone that will hurt them

Also can you do them separately please

YOURE A GENIUS YES SPOIL THE MONKEYS /pos

Also I focused more on the money part bc it's just so cute to think about....like the three most approval/attention seeking characters in the show and you buy them stuff???? 100000/10 in my opinion

SWK - you…you actually love him…and you wanna buy him stuff?? And besides loving and caring for you back he doesn’t have to pay you back?? Or prove he’s really grateful?? He can hardly believe it and thinks that you’re a demon trying to mess with him. But nope, you just give him a kiss and bring him to one of the stores he’s shown interest in and tell him to find some nice clothes. Then after you’ll take him to dinner. It takes him a while to get used to it, but he loves the attention you give him. He develops a sense of style that’s more than the same few things he’s been wearing for thousands of years and honestly? He’s so handsome. He has a habit of constantly checking for reassurance that you honestly want to do this for him, because he can pay you back no problem!! A few weeks into being with you and his mood is super upbeat, but like genuinely instead of masking.

MK - huh??? What do you mean you’re alright with just spending absurd amounts of money on him??? He’s super flattered, he never turns you down, but he’s an anxious lad who has never heard of a sugar mommy before. So you take him wherever he wants—his favorite place to blow money with you is definitely the arcade—have fun, and then he thanks you a million times. He loves being with you, not just for the money(though it is a nice bonus), and I think he’d gain some confidence from knowing that there’s someone who loves him and doesn’t need any grand gestures from him to prove it. Him being himself is enough for you.

Macaque - look, it’s gonna take a lot of time for him to be comfortable calling you a friend, let alone his partner, let alone…this. You’ll have to start small with him so you don’t scare him off. Promise him you won’t hold this all against him some day, and that you’re honestly doing all this because you love him. He usually seems very confident, however once he realizes your intentions are good, he almost becomes shy. It’ll take some serious coaxing to get him to point out things that he likes so you can get them, but you love how flustered he gets when he tries clothes on and asks you what you think. I think his love language receiving would be gifts(since let’s face it when he used to be friends(or more?) with Wukong he was never empty-handed by the end of the day) but in terms of giving he probably likes physical touch or words of affirmation…expect a clingy monkey after every trip :)

#lego monkie kid #lmk headcanon #lmk x reader #lmk #lego monkie kid headcanons #gender neutral y/n #lmk mk #lmk qi xiaotian #monkie kid mk #mk x reader #lmk swk #lego monkie king #monkie kid swk #lmk swk x reader #swk x reader #lmk macaque #lmk six eared macaque #six eared macaque #macaque x reader

449 notes · View notes

storiesofsvu · 4 years ago

Text

The Brat Experience

Elizabeth Donnelly x reader x Casey Novak x Alex Cabot A part of Penthouse of Sugar Covers the “multiple partners” square of @thatesqcrush kink bingo Warnings: language, smut, group sex, voyeurism, masturbation, brat kink, mommy kink, sex toys/strap ons, overstimulation, edging/orgasm denial, face fucking, degradation kink/dirty talk, cock warming. I think that’s it?

Alex’s small whimpers and whines echoed through the penthouse, you rolled your eyes once again as you tried to turn your attention back to the questioning you were working on at the kitchen island. The elevator pinged and part of you prayed it would be someone that would take care of Alex quickly. Instead, Casey rounded the corner, dropping her bag onto a spare stool.

“How long’s that been going on?” She asked with a smirk as she moved to the fridge, pouring herself a glass of rosé and adding to what was left of yours.

“Long enough that I’ve worked through three witness’s questionings.”

“She’s being that much of a brat?” Casey laughed, pulling a chuckle from you.

“Well I’m a little busy.” You sighed, flipping the case file shut, “Mary’s in D.C for the week…”

“Don’t remind me.” Casey laughed, her own thighs clenching at the thought of Mary finally being back so she could truly be taken care of by someone. “Where’s Liz?”

Before you could even start to reply that you were sure Elizabeth was up in the home office her voice broke through the room.

“Alexandra!” That got Alex’s attention from the couch, finally, someone’s paying attention to her as her fingers continued to play with her pussy. Naturally, being the brat she was, she was completely naked, splayed out on the couch, “are you seriously down here trying to interrupt all of us working?”

“Just wanted to play.”’ She smirked back and Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

“Stop!” Her voice called out, hard enough that those of you not in the living room froze in your movements. “You’re a little whore Alexandra, and everyone in this house knows. You want to get fucked? You’ll get fucked until you are begging to come, do you understand?”

“Yes Mommy.” She whimpered back, “please let your girls fuck me..”

“Stay here.” She warned with a slap against Alex’s pussy that the blonde whimpered at, “you two!” She shot a glance at you and Casey, “you’re not free from this. If she’s going to act like a dirty slut she’s going to be treated like a dirty slut.”

“Yes Mommy,” the words were out of your mouth before you even realized. Casey chuckled softy, wrapping her arms around you as her lips started to trace up your neck, you let out a soft moan, your hand grasped against her body.

“Case…” you murmured and she chuckled, nipping your skin before guiding you towards the living room where Alex lay whining on the couch. Though she was still fingering herself, chasing her own release.

“You better not come.” Your dominant side came out, reiterating Liz’s words, “you know better than that.”

Casey’s hand wrapped around Alex’s wrist, pulling her soaked fingers up to your mouth and you wrapped your lips around them, sucking them clean, moaning at the taste.

Elizabeth re-entered the room, stripped down to her lingerie, a smirk on her lips as she watched the way you sucked on Alex’s fingers. She dropped the box of toys on the couch at Alex’s feet,

“Get up.”

“But”— Alex protested, pouting up at the older woman who tsk’d, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet.

“You wanted to be the center of attention, get in the middle of the room.” Liz ordered, gesturing to the large ottoman that sat across from the couch.

Alex promptly dropped down onto it, spreading her legs wide with a grin on her face, knowing that everyone’s eyes were on her now. Casey nibbled into your neck again, pulling a soft moan from you as her hands began to creep up your body, slowly unbuttoning your blouse, her fingers leaving goosebumps in their paths. Liz smirked at the sight, her fingers tilting Casey’s chin up as she addressed her, her voice much softer this time.

“You treat her nice alright? She’s a good girl.”

Casey nodded, smiling as Liz pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before she moved to the box of toys, prying off the lid. Pulling out a harness she selected a strap, stepping into it and securing the dildo, coating it with lube while she moved back over to Alex. The blonde whined at the sight, trying to tug her closer, Liz simply swatted her hands away.

“You want this?” She nodded feverishly, “you want to be a good little slut for me, let everyone see how well you take my cock princess?”

“Please M’am.” Alex begged. Liz chuckled, pinning her thighs down onto the ottoman.

“Word?”

“Peach.”

“Good girl.” Liz smirked, sliding her cock all the way into Alex’s awaiting pussy until it was buried to the hilt. Her thrusts were deep, yet slow and calculated, rocking into Alex with purpose but not enough to bring her to her peak. “Remember you aren’t allowed to come until I say so.” She warned, thrusting particularly hard into the other woman.

The entire thing was somehow more erotic than when Liz had watched you and Alex, the differences in the way that she fucked all of you. While it was usually Alex running her mouth, this time her head was thrown back against the ottoman, moans and satisfied yet needy sighs escaping her lips. Instead it was Liz spewing off the dirty talk, and unlike the praise she gave you, you were coming to realize that Alex quite enjoyed the derogatory style of talk.

You gasped out when Casey’s teeth sunk into your pulse point, a deep moan leaving your lips as your head lolled back onto her shoulder. Her lips curved into a smirk while her hands quickly rid you of your clothing, slipping into your panties. She tugged you back to the couch, pulling you into her lap facing Alex and Liz, knowing that the show was turning you on as much as it was turning her on. Her fingers swiped through your lower lips,

“You really like this don’t you baby?” She husked, nipping at your earlobe, “like watching Alex get destroyed.”

“I’d be good and answer her if I were you.” Liz casted you a side eye while she continued to almost lazily thrust into Alex, “only good girls get to come.” She accentuated her words with a particularly hard thrust that sent Alex moaning even louder, “little whores like Alexandra don’t get that privilege. They just used, isn’t that right?” She picked up the pace of her thrusts, knowing it would drive Alex wild, she wanted her truly wrecked by the end of this in hopes of keeping her satisfied for a couple of days at the least. “Little fuck toys…”

“Yes M’am…please…” Alex whined, “harder.”

“You get what I want you to get.” Liz snapped, pulling her hips back out before slowly plunging her cock back in inch by inch, leaving Alex’s lip quivering.

“Well?” Casey asked again, her fingers toying with your clit, rubbing at it lightly.

“Yes…I do..” you moaned quietly, your legs instinctively spreading so she had easier access to your pussy. Her fingers came up, tugging the lace garment off you, tossing it to the floor before ridding you of your bra, your nipples hardening in the cool air of the room.

The sounds coming from Alex’s drenched cunt were already so fucking obscene, she’d been touching and teasing herself for at least an hour before Liz finally decided to do something about it. The sound of the dildo plunging into her squelching through the room, and it wasn’t much longer that Casey’s fingers were having the same affect on you.

Alex’s head rolled to watch you, the way your hips rocked to meet Casey’s hand with each thrust of her fingers, your eyes fluttering shut, feeling your pussy clench around her digits. The blonde let out a moan at the sight of you starting to reach your peak and your eyes fluttered open, meeting her sapphire ones from your spot on the couch. Despite already looking absolutely wrecked, her pupils blown, hair mussed around her head as her skin flushed heavily, she still had enough left in her to shoot you a wink which shot straight to your core. Casey chuckled softly at the feeling of your walls pulsating around her, her free hand coming up to rub at your clit.

“Am…I allowed to come?” You panted out, not even really sure who you were asking at that point. Casey’s eyes shifted up to Liz who nodded.

“You may.” She smiled, “good girls get what they want, and brats get what they fucking deserve.”

She slapped Alex’s clit, shooting a bolt of electricity through the other woman, before she hastily pulled out, leaving her whining, empty and pouting, a stifled cry leaving her lips. You rocked harder against Casey’s hand, your core burning as you moaned, juices slicking Casey’s fingers, your hands clenching at the couch and her skin as your peak shuddered through you. When she pulled her digits from you it was Liz that grabbed her hand, sucking them into her lips, lapping up your essence from them.

“Always so sweet.” She smiled, leaning forward to press a breathless kiss to your lips. Her arms wrapped around you, tugging you up to standing while her tongue slipped into your mouth. You groaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms tighter around her, rolling your hips against her cock. She nipped at your lip as she broke the kiss, turning to Casey, “‘get the purple one, show Alexandra what it truly feels like to be full.”

“You sure?”

“She can handle it.” Liz nodded, “can’t you princess? You want Casey to fuck you ‘til you’re wrecked?”

“Yes..please…” Alex begged, you could nearly see the tears of frustration in her eyes. Alex knew she’d asked for this, that spending the afternoon naked touching herself in the living room would entice exactly this type of situation, but her skin was on fucking fire. The desire to come burned through her body, aching to be released, but she knew there was a lot more to come before she would be allowed to.

“You’re still not allowed to come until I say you can.” Elizabeth warned, taking Casey’s spot on the couch while the redhead slipped the purple dildo into the harness she’d tugged on. Liz’s hands ghosted over your hips, pulling you back to the couch, “why don’t you come keep Mommy’s cock warm while we watch, hmm?”

“Yes please.” You let out a shriek of a giggle as she pulled you down, still facing Alex, your back flush to her chest. Liz lined the toy up with your wet pussy, Alex’s juices coating it well enough to glide right into you. You let out a soft moan at the feel of being more full than just Casey’s fingers, you leant back against Liz, humming at the feel of her lips kissing at your neck and shoulder, the way her arms wrapped around you, cooing at how much of a good girl you were.

Casey moved between Alex’s legs, coating the toy in Alex’s juices, teasing her with just the tip between her folds. Smirking at the way she whined in need,

“You ready princess?” She teased and Alex huffed,

“Just fucking fuck me already Case!”

“Yeah? Or what?” Casey laughed, “spread your legs for me, hands on your thighs and I don’t want them moving an inch or you’re definitely not coming.”

“If you’re a good little whore for Casey, maybe you’ll be allowed to come.” Liz commented and Alex let out a frustrated sigh, her hands clutching at her thighs while she spread them wide for Casey.

“Good girl.” The redhead praised, no longer wanting to tease, she plunged the wider toy into Alex’s dripping cunt, setting a relentless pace, hard and heavy thrusts, meeting her hips with each one.

“Oh god!” Alex’s strangled cry bounced off the walls of the living room, much louder than you’d expected. You sucked your lower lip between your teeth at the sight, Casey pounding into Alex, the blonde’s body rocking, her tits bouncing with each thrust while her fingers clenched into her delicate thighs. Her lips parted wide, panting out gasps as Casey’s cock dragged through her sensitive walls, the pussy that was simply begging to come, completely drenched in juices. You could already see the small pool of liquid on the ottoman underneath her, the slick coating her thighs, glistening in the sunlight. You felt yourself clench around Liz’s cock, letting out a small whine that she rewarded with a kiss to your neck. Although all that did was make you shiver in anticipation on whether you would be able to finish…and when…

“Such a fucking filthy little slut Alexandra.” Liz chuckled, “look at you, just begging Casey to fuck you harder. Isn’t she filling you up enough?”

“No!” Alex whined heavily, “please..fuck…oh fuck…please more…”

Casey glanced over at the two of your before bracing herself on Alex’s thighs, angling her body so she was thrusting even deeper and heavier into her.

“Fuck…” it came out of your lips as a whisper, your pussy trembling around Liz’s cock and her hands tickled down your body.

“I told you she put on quite the show….she loves being watched…like the whore she is…” Elizabeth’s teeth sunk into your skin after she spoke, pulling a soft whine from you.

Casey chuckled from her spot between Alex’s legs, shooting you a grin at the noises you started to let out, her hips continuing to plunge her cock into Alex with no resistance. Her breathing had already picked up, the base of the toy hitting her clit with each thrust, but more so the look of the blonde being more and more wrecked with each roll of her hips. The whines leaving Alex’s lips getting louder and louder and you just knew she was doing everything in her power to keep her hands on her thighs rather than touch herself, she needed to come tonight.

It was almost subconsciously that you started to rock yourself on Liz’s cock, not much at first, just rolling your hips lazily, eager for some kind of stimulation. Alex’s moans and whines became louder, more frequent, her eyes screwed shut as Casey plunged into her over and over, not giving her any time to recover before her cock was dragging across her walls again. She knew Alex was seconds away from coming, and she knew the blonde would be punished if she did, and that Alex certainly didn’t want that. Alex was doing everything she could to hold back, clenching around Casey’s cock, tears pricking in the corner of her eyes. You let out a low moan, bracing yourself as you rocked your hips down onto Liz, letting the toy sink deeper into you and she chuckled.

“Would you like me to fuck you sweetheart?” She asked.

“Fuck me like you fuck Alexandra…please?” You husked out, earning a small laugh from her.

“That’s enough Casey.” Liz suddenly warned and the redhead pulled out, taking the moment to catch her breath, much to the disdain of Alex, who let out a strangled sob. “Oh don’t be so fucking whiny Alexandra.” Liz scolded. Skillfully, she shifted you off her lap, your torso landing on the ottoman between Alex’s legs, inches from her dripping cunt. “Y/n here is going clean up the mess you made while I fuck her. She is allowed to come whenever she may please, but you must ask. Understood?”

“Yes.” Alex sobbed, “when? Please?”

“I will tell you.” Liz smirked, her cock still buried deep within you, “in the meantime why don’t you clean off Casey’s cock, you’ve made a mess all over it as well.”

“Yes Ma’m.” Alex shifted slightly so that her head was hanging off the opposite end of the ottoman. With Liz’s cock still deep within you, you crawled forward, eager to taste the blonde’s release, also eager to reach your own again.

The entire thing was incredibly erotic, and even more so that it was the first time the group of you had all been together, and in the living room of the penthouse nonetheless where if anyone was to walk in, the entire thing would be on display for their pleasure.

Your tongue darted out, lapping the sticky wetness from Alex’s inner thighs, pressing soft kisses and tender bites to the skin as you did so, resulting in her hips jolting up against you. Your hands wound around her thighs, pinning her to the ottoman as Liz began to slowly fuck into you. You let out a moan against her cunt, eyes falling shut at the feel of the toy dragging across your walls. You’d already been so turned on and so full as you warmed her you knew you wouldn’t last long, and you were ever thankful that she’d given you the permission to come as soon as you needed it.

Your mouth swiftly began to fuck Alex’s pussy, tongue delving into her as much as you could, dragging out even more wetness that you drank down before flicking at her clit. Moaning into her at the feeling of Liz picking up the pace, her thrusts meeting you with more vigour, answering your request to be fucked harder, used like she used Alexandra.

Alex let out a strangled cry as you sucked around her clit, the nub pulsing within your lips, though it was very quickly muffled. From your assault on her pussy your eyes glanced up, moaning heavily over the sight of Casey pushing her cock between Alex’s plush lips, silencing her as she fucked the toy into her mouth. You could see the bulge in Alex’s throat as Casey began to face fuck her, Alex letting out obscene moans around her cock as you brought a hand up, sneaking fingers into her drenched cunt. Her body rocked towards you as your fingers fucked into her with ease. You were thankful that your hand was able to continue working as Elizabeth pounded into you from behind, swiftly spanking at your ass. You really weren’t sure if you’d be able to do much else but moan at this point.

The sounds of your pussy dripping around Elizabeth’s cock, the near gagging coming from Alex as Casey continued to fuck her face, the squelching sounds of Alex’s pussy around your fingers, the groans echoed around Casey’s cock. It was entirely too much. You did your best to latch onto Alex’s clit again, tongue lapping against it while your lips suctioned around it.

“Sweetheart, remember you can come whenever you want.” Elizabeth’s voice reminded you, her hand wrapping around your waist in search of your clit. You yelped out the best you could into Alex as her fingers started to furiously rub at you while her cock plunged deeper and harder into you until you were whining heavily.

“Oh fuck! Oh god Mommy!” Your head dropped to Alex’s thigh as your orgasm rocked through you, your body convulsing under Liz’s. Her hand moved from your clit, her hips slowing as she fucked you through your orgasm. You did your best to keep your fingers thrusting within Alex, curling and tapping against the spot she needed it most, your breath panting, barely able to keep up.

“Alright.” Liz tugged you off the ottoman, “Alexandra…you may come…but only around Casey’s cock.” Alex whimpered, hating being empty right now, her core was pulsating with need, she knew it would only take a couple of thrusts before she was shaking under the redhead.

Elizabeth nodded to Casey, who pulled her cock out of Alex’s mouth, pressing a heavy kiss to her lips, her tongue delving into the blondes mouth, tasting the essence she’d left on the redhead’s cock with a groan. She moved around her, placing herself between Alex’s thighs before she plunged into her waiting pussy.

On the couch you were panting, your own release barely finished as Liz pulled off the strap, dropping it to the side as she tugged you to her. Though her hands were still leaving heated patterns across your skin as you watched Alex come undone.

The blonde shrieked, doing her best to behave, Casey’s hand came down, spanking at her clit as she called her a whore, saying she deserved all of this.

“Be a good little slut Alexandra.” Casey husked, “come for me….now!”

All it took was the demand from the redhead for Alex to finally feel the coil burst within her, her whines and sobs echoing through the entire penthouse. Tears leaked out of hers eyes, trailing down her cheeks as her juices quite literally shot out of her. She panted, sobbing, her body heaving against the ottoman while Casey fucked her through her orgasm until she stilled at the way Alex’s body shivered.

“Good girl…” she praised, her hand stroking at Alex’s cheek as she slipped out of her, pressing a gentle kiss to the blonde’s forehead. Casey stepped out of the harness, dropping by the other toy to be washed. She turned to you, a small grin on her face, “you enjoy the show?” She asked, ducking to kiss you gently.

“Yes…” you breathed out, nearly chasing after her for another kiss as Liz chucked beside you, nudging at your hips.

“Help poor Alexandra up.” She smirked, “get into the t.v room and we can order some food. I guess she may deserve some cuddling right now.” Liz pressed a soft kiss to your neck, “I’ll be right back.”

She vanished up the stairs as you and Casey managed to drag Alex into the other room, tugging blankets from the closet as you settled in, thanking Liz when she returned with everyone’s robes. You nestled into her frame as Alex let out a whine, drooping her exhausted body over Casey’s. She was still shaking in mini aftershocks, her eyes fluttering shut while she tried to gain any sense of consciousness, murmuring out barely intelligible words when Liz asked about dinner. It was safe to say she’d had the brat fucked out of her, at least temporarily.

_____________ @bisexualcrowley @natasha-danvers @altsvu @svulife-rl @svushots @gay-ass-bitch @whimsicallymad @oliviaswifey @laurenhope13 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @enduringalexblake @molllss @wosoimagines @brienneseveruscalawayfanfiction @nocreditinthestraightworld @jj-arms @wannabe-fic-reader @australiancarisi @emskisworld @prettypyschoinpink @newyorker14 @1000spices @denpine @lawandorderuswnt @mmmmokdok @addictedtodinosaurs @wandas-wife @lazarettta @tomy5girls @thatgaygiraffesquirrelgirl @beccabarba @ex-uallyactive @detective-giggles @addictedtodinosaurs

#Elizabeth donnelly #Casey novak #alex cabot #thatesqcrushsummerbingo #law and order svu #elizabeth donnelly x reader #casey novak x alex cabot #elizabeth donnelly x alex cabot #novelly #calex #penthouse of sugar

179 notes · View notes

moonyswriting · 4 years ago

Text

Suit yourself

This is for @unadulteratedpaperparadise :) I wanted to make you something, because you are amazing, so i wrote this for you <3

Thank you so much to @moonofthenight for being my beta at this hour especially :)

Characters by @lumosinlove

„I have nothing to wear,“ Kasey complained, standing in front of their closet, a few shirts pooling at his feet.

There was a groan from the living room of their shared flat and then footsteps making their way over to the bedroom. Alex coming to a halt in the door frame. “Babe. Look down, pick something up, you’re done,” he said smiling at his boyfriend. They had hours left until Remus’ and Sirius’ wedding, so they were in no rush. By hours, Alex meant 63 hours.

He shook out of his thoughts, concentrating on the frustrated boyfriend at hand.

Kasey huffed, “Have you seen these? We’re going to a wedding. The best wedding-” he stopped himself, biting his lip for a second before continuing, “the best wedding we’ll be going to for a while, I will not just wear a black suit and be done with it,” Kasey stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Alex had been planning to just wear his blue suit. He had debated about buying a new tie to go with Natalie’s attire, but that would have been all.

“Hey,” as if he knew exactly what was going on, Kasey stepped out of the pile of clothes and up to the redhead, “I know you were planning on wearing your blue suit. It’s a great choice, you look so hot in that damn thing,” the blond looked down at his boyfriend, grinning “But I want to look just as good,” Kasey simply told him, leaning down to peck his cheek.

Alex was about to cut in, complain, that Kasey was the best-looking man on the planet, whether he was wearing a trash bag or sweatpants or gear or a goddamn ball gown- he had to stop himself at that, because Alex’s thoughts would definitely not help Kasey in choosing an outfit. Although he wouldn’t have to wear one at all, which might take a little stress away.

Alex's head snapped up again. During his thoughts his eyes had somehow moved to Kasey’s lips without his control. He remembered the days where people used to think he had a crush on them, just because his in-thoughts brain had decided to make his eyes stare at inappropriate places. Then Alex remembered that wasn’t the case anymore. He actually wanted, what his eyes were implying. Tilting his head up again, he placed a kiss on Kasey’s lips.

Then Alex had to tell him. “You will always look incredible. No matter what.”

The other smiled at that. “Even if I wear a neon green bow tie with a neon pink suit?”

Letting out a bright laugh, Alex told him, “Even if you wear sweatpants to the wedding.”

“I would rather stay at home,” Kasey huffed out, still smiling though. Then he turned back towards the closet, “I was going to ask for your advice, but from what you just said, that will do more harm than good. No offense.”

“Wow,“ the older pretended to be hurt by the comment, laughing too much to make it believable, which got Kasey to join in.

They only noticed their girlfriend had joined them, when Alex felt arms hugging him around his chest. He felt her hum into his back, her cheek pressed to his spine. Alex closed his eyes at the feeling, leaning into it.

Kasey being Kasey, they didn’t stay alone for long. Alex and Nat both got a kiss on the cheek, before they were cuddled by the blond, trying to squish himself as close to his loves as possible.

“Of course he would,” she muttered under her breath, smiling up at her boys. “That’s what today is for.”

After a while, Natalie asked them what they had been laughing about, the question only resulting in more of that, until she had to laugh as well. She still couldn’t believe how she got to have them. Both of them.

“Kasey needs help with his outfit for the wedding,” Alex told her between breaths. She didn’t seem surprised.

Both hockey players looked up in surprise.

“I’m taking you shopping, because you,” she pointed at Kasey, “will not stop whining until we bought you a new something and you” she continued, pointing at Alex this time, “will need another tie, because all blue is a great look, but why live life in one color?”

–

Since Natalie and Kasey had agreed on helping Alex first, they were currently browsing through the tie section of the store. They had already found a few that would either fit with Natalie’s dress or Alex’s hair and some that just looked nice.

After making a few decisions without Alex, the other two let him see the final options they had limited themselves to. A floral one with red and orange flowers that would compliment his hair or a sky blue one that would not only fit with the jumpsuit Natalie had picked out for herself a few weeks ago, but would also make his eyes pop, as Alex’s partners had explained excitedly.

He couldn‘t help but be biased towards the blue one, when he saw both their eyes glint with something. The team knew about them, that they were dating and being each other’s date to the wedding, so he might as well match.

Alex knew he made the right choice, when he told them the blue one. Natalie couldn‘t hide her grin and it lifted the corner’s of Alex‘s mouth automatically.

“A redhead down, a blond to go!” and with that Natalie was already off to another section, where shirts were displayed. Both boyfriends went after her.

A few minutes went by of them just quickly scanning through the options, when they turned around to find no less than seven shirts already piled in Kasey’s arms a face splitting grin on his face.

“Oh babe,” both his partners said at the same time in the exact same voice. It would have been scary if Kasey wasn’t head over heels in love with both of them.

“Can I try them on?” he asked them excitedly, already subtly moving towards the changing rooms. They knew he had golden retriever tendencies, but this time they practically saw a tail wagging behind him.

And how could they ever deny him anything when he had puppy dog eyes to match.

–

It took about sixteen shirts to find one that Kasey loved enough to want to wear it to the wedding.

Alex was sitting on one of the chairs in front of the changing rooms and after Natalie had complained about the professional hockey player taking a seat before her, she was now sitting in his lap, her fingers moving through his red curls as Kasey stepped out again.

“Tada!” he stretched his arms out right before gesturing to his shirt. “I think this might be the one,” he told them, turning around to look at himself in the mirror. Kasey was fully aware that brides usually used that phrase, but he didn’t care. He was allowed this moment. Maybe he would get to hear that sentence from Natalie and Alex soon. Maybe they could have that.

He turned back to his partners, showing off the white floral shirt again.

“You look incredible,” Alex told him, a bit dazed and not looking his boyfriend in the eyes. Kasey looked down, where the redhead’s eyes were fixed, caught on his half open shirt, revealing more of his chest than would probably be considered normal at a wedding.

Natalie didn’t really reply, she just got up, kissing Kasey. No one of the throuple seemed to mind. After breaking the kiss, leaving the goalie blushing, she leaned in whispering into his ear “I’m buying you that right now. You look fantastic.”

Walking back over to Alex, sitting down again, they watched Kasey shake out of his state, smiling to himself and turning around to change back into his normal clothes.

Natalie really did pay for both of their things and put in some earrings she had seen close to the checkout. When she handed over her card to the cashier, she got a snort form behind her. She turned around to look at her boyfriends with a confused expression.

“You’re like our sugar mommy,” Alex told her smiling brightly.

She was fully aware they earned a whole world more than she did, but she liked paying for them every once in a while. She didn’t want them to think she wanted them because of the money. Logically, she knew she never had to pay, but it just felt right sometimes and it was all worth it for their expressions once they got their things.

They would look incredible at the wedding.

#twenty nineth fic #1.5k words #<2k words #fluff #o'darwin #o'darwin fluff #natalie darcy #kasey winter #alex o'hara #suit yourself #lumosinlove #sweater weather #clothes #shopping #coops wedding

103 notes · View notes

sevlgi · 4 years ago

Text

sugar pt. 2

requested: yes

group: mamamoo

pairing: solar x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst

contents: sugar mommy!solar, sugar baby!reader. part 1 here!

warnings: implied sex

synopsis: You’re not so sure about how much longer you want to be Yongsun’s sugar baby.

a/n: none

word count: 1.9k

Being a sugar baby was never meant to last. You didn’t ever expect a relationship like Sooyoung and Joohyun, one that transcended deals of money and sex into a real love; Yongsun was supposed to just be the woman who bought you diamonds in exchange for a couple expensive dinners together.

But instead, you found yourself falling dangerously quickly for someone who shouldn’t have even breathed the same air as you. You found your relationship evolving, from a simple sugar mommy and the girl she spoiled into just... girlfriends.

You were lucky enough to meet someone who felt the same way as you and would never take advantage of you in any way. Yongsun let you make all the first moves and never rushed you, which would’ve been perfect if not for the fact that in everyone else’s eyes, you were still just a sugar baby.

Joohyun smiled at you when you were led inside the hotel lobby by your girlfriend. You were gaping at the chandeliers, still self-conscious about the form-fitting Chanel gown that you wore; to be honest, you didn’t look like you’d been with Yongsun for almost 5 months. “Glad you could make it, you two.”

“Thank you for the invitation, Joohyun.” Yongsun, in contrast, was perfectly relaxed in her natural environment. You’d quickly come to learn that a coat of red lipstick and a fancy dress was enough to transform her from the gentle woman you loved into Solar, CEO of her own entertainment company. “Congratulations on the debut of your new group,” she smiled, seizing two glasses of wine off a waiter.

The other woman was about to speak when Sooyoung sidled over, slipping her hand into the crook of Joohyun’s arm like it was nothing. “Wow, Y/N, your sugar mommy’s obviously treating you well,” your best friend laughed good-naturedly, gesturing at the heavy rope of diamonds around your neck.

She didn’t mean anything adverse, but you frowned, Yongsun’s hand tightening around yours. “Sugar baby?”

“Well, yeah,” Sooyoung shrugged. “I mean, Yongsun unnie is still buying you stuff. And you’re still... together, right?”

Your girlfriend patted your arm to stop you from opening your mouth again. “Right. Uh, if you’ll excuse us, I think I saw Byulyi somewhere, and I need to talk to her.”

As you were led away, you tugged at Yongsun’s hand. “Hey. What was that about? You should’ve let me tell her that I’m not your sugar baby anymore.”

The CEO sighed, waving mindlessly at some tall man that you vaguely recognized. “Y/N-ah. You have to realize that while I still buy you things and we’re together, no one will believe that we’re anything other than sugar mommy and baby. It doesn’t matter how many times we explain... you can’t just leave a relationship like this behind in the past.”

You quieted for a second, but you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out, “Well, maybe we should leave the entire relationship behind.”

Yongsun stared at you with startled eyes. As someone approached her, though, she had to slip the mask back on, her hand tight on yours the only indication that she did hear what you said. “Good evening, Min PD. How’re you?”

“Did you mean it?”

Your lips tightened on the rim of your glass of tea as Yongsun poured one out of her own. It was the morning after the gala; you didn’t speak in the car ride home, at least not about anything other than Joohyun’s new group, and you went straight to sleep after arriving in your apartment. It was one of the rare nights that you slept early (or at all), especially when you considered that you didn’t even go to Yongsun’s penthouse. Instead, you let yourself in in the early morning, surprised when your girlfriend was already awake. “Mean what?”

“You know damn well.” She tapped her fingernails on the glass surface of her teacup, sighing and stopping when she realized how nerve-wracking it was. “You said we should leave the entire relationship behind. You... what did you mean by that?”

“I just meant that I don’t want to be your sugar baby anymore.” You set your cup down, raking your hands through your hair quickly. “I know I started this because I needed the money, but I-- but you got me a job. I earn my own money now, and I don’t need the diamonds, or the Chanel, or anything else.”

Yongsun reached for your hands, almost pouting as she said, “But baby. I like spoiling you, don’t you get it?”

“Buying me an entire store of Hermès isn’t normal spoiling,” you protested. “Normal is... buying me nice bread! Or just some nice heels for my birthday that cost less than a thousand dollars. Yongsun-ah, I want to be your girlfriend.”

Her lips opened in a soft “o” at that. Perhaps she had never really thought about how a normal relationship worked, or maybe she just qualified Hermès scarves as a normal birthday gift. Either way, you were tired of being thought of as just a sugar baby. “I get it. But I already told you, there’s no way that you can just shed the label like that,” she frowned, snapping her fingers for emphasis.

“Then we break up.” When Yongsun opened her mouth to protest, you held your hand up to quiet her, pleading, “Hear me out, okay? We break up as sugar mommy and baby, but we continue... whatever this is in secret. After a couple weeks, we announce that we decided to just date normally. I can still come to your functions, because I know Sooyoung, and we can even have an amicable breakup!”

The brunette considered it, perfectly drawn eyebrows furrowing slightly. “I mean. It could work?”

You beamed, sitting back in your chair. “Then it’s settled! We break up.”

Yongsun still frowned. She obviously didn’t like the idea of breaking up with you at all, though you knew she’d cave eventually if only for the idea of calling you her girlfriend instead of her sugar baby. “...Fine. But you have to let me buy the new Louis collection for you in return.”

“No.” At the growing smile on the woman’s face, your eyes widened and you reached to keep her from standing and going to her extensive closet. “Yongsun--”

With the secretive glances that you and Yongsun kept exchanging at Joohyun’s next celebratory dinner, you were surprised that no one picked up on something else going on. But then again, with your seatmate hitting on you, you were sure that no one was paying much attention.

Hyesook was cute, sure. You weren’t sure exactly why she was at the dinner; she didn’t look like a CEO, but the Rolex on her wrist screamed money. And she was probably younger than Yongsun, not unattractive at all, but you despised the way he leaned towards you. “So. You and the CEO are broken up, huh?”

“Yeah.” You sipped at the company-provided alcohol to distract yourself, though not too much in case Hyesook made a move. Thankfully, you wore a high-collared shirt with pants this time, almost looking like a CEO yourself with the flamboyant Gucci tag on the neck of the jacket. “It was amicable, we’re still close.”

“I’m sure.” She gulped at her own wine, and you sent panicked eyes at Sooyoung’s back across the table, your best friend laughing at something that the man behind her said. “You’re in the market, then? For another sugar mommy? I might not make as much as Kim Solar, but I can easily spoil you just as well. Or better.”

You winced and tugged a plate of crackers towards yourself. Your girlfriend was nowhere to be seen, nor Joohyun or anyone else you recognized. “I’m not, actually. Learned my lesson, don’t really want to rely on someone for money again.”

“I wouldn’t ask much.” Hyesook’s eyes felt invasive, even as they just remained on your face. “Dinners, maybe a couple nights. A quick fu--”

“Excuse me. What’s going on here?”

A relieved breath almost escaped you when you felt a familiar pair of hands on your shoulders. Yongsun stood tall in her heels, a smooth smile on her face concealing her brimming anger. Hyesook waved offhandedly, moving to grab your free hand. “Just getting to know each other.”

You snatched your hand away at the same time that Yongsun batted the other woman’s hand away. “From my point of view, my girlfriend isn’t enjoying it. And I won’t tolerate that at my best friend’s company dinner.”

Hyesook raised her eyebrows, smirking as she leaned back. “Girlfriend, huh? And here I thought I was flirting with a free woman,” she shook her head. “Pity.”

Yongsun scoffed, “Yeah, girlfriend. Do you have a problem with that? Because I’m sure that Yoongi won’t hesitate to fire you if I have a quick chat with him about your behavior.”

Yoongi. A producer then, you noted, standing and placing your hand on your girlfriend’s shoulder. “Come on, Yongsun. Let’s go,” you mumbled, flashing a sarcastic smile at Hyesook as you walked away. “You shouldn’t just...”

“What? Defend you?” For once, Yongsun almost looked angry, her crimson lips pinched tight and her eyes narrow, though you knew her too well to be scared at whatever she planned to do. “I promise you, Y/N, I won’t let anyone violate you.”

Before you could ask what she meant, the two of you were standing in the very center of the dinner hall, the other woman’s hands on her hips and her voice commanding. “Everyone, if you would give me your attention for a second.”

Your cheeks flushed when all the voices and conversations quieted, eyes turned upon you as Yongsun spoke. “As I’m sure you know, Y/N was once my sugar baby. I gave-- and still give-- expensive gifts, and that seems to make all of you think that she is still just that. A sugar baby.”

Joohyun’s smile almost blinded you from a couple tables away, but it served as reassurance to not melt into the floor like a puddle as your girlfriend continued on. “From now on, I would like all of you to remember that Y/N is my girlfriend. I love her, more than anything in this world, and I will not tolerate any kind of disrespect towards her or our relationship.”

A whoop sounded, probably belonging to Sooyoung, and Yongsun switched to a grin as she clasped your hand in hers. When it became apparent that she had finished, quiet applause sounded in the audience and the chatter resumed, though you saw Hyesook slink off through a door somewhere.

When you turned back to her, Yongsun’s smile was a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Y/N-ah... I don’t know if that was okay for me to say.”

Instead of answering, you cupped her face in your hands and pressed your lips to hers softly. You almost bent over backwards with how strongly Yongsun reciprocated, a breathy giggle escaping you. “It was more than okay. Thank you, actually.”

“Now, should we get to telling Yoongi about his employee’s indecency?” At your obviously coming protest, Yongsun started pulling you towards the producers’ table, laughing as she did. “No excuses, Y/N. I love you~”

#mamamoo #mamamoo x reader #mamamoo scenarios #mamamoo imagines #mamamoo reactions #mamamoo solar #mamamoo yongsun #kim yongsun #kim solar #solar #solar x reader #solar imagines #solar scenarios #mamamoo incorrect quotes #girl group imagines #girl group reactions #girl group scenarios

185 notes · View notes

tothemeadow · 4 years ago

Text

@oozyhxney asked:

Okay hear me out...AU where the pillars are the fem!reader's sugar parents. Doesnt have to be spicy but can be if you want to I just want to see how they act as a sugar mommy/daddy. And can the reader call them mommy/daddy??? Thank you!

Alright, so I love this concept so much that I’m turning it into a series? Hello smut and nine people spoiling you 😎

~*ᑭᖇOᒪOGᑌE*~

warnings: alcohol consumption, use of tobacco

words: 3.5k

It’s a chilly, brisk night, the lights lining the streets casting a golden glow; it’s almost pretty, mysterious in a tantalizing way, but it’s nothing compared to the ornate building you stare up at. The architecture tells you that this building is obviously old, the stone arches beautifully molded and hinting at years gone past. The building itself is secluded from the rest of the city, lined by an iron wrought fence and massive gates. Wealth bleeds from this place, taunts everyone who passes in their cars.

Why you’re even here, you don’t know. Your best friend Daki insisted you tag along for this so-called “gathering,” but you know it’s much more than that. It will be fun, she said. She even dressed you up in some of her clothes; wrapped in a fitted silk skirt, a mesh shirt, and a faux fur coat, you are not dressed like you usually do. Although, you have to admit – blush looks really good on you.

You feel stiff in the expensive clothes – all of them straight from the runway, yikes – as you maneuver out of the car, your heels clacking against the concrete sidewalk. Daki is dressed in a similar fashion, a slinky black gown adorning her curves and a faux fur coat hanging from her shoulders as well. Her painted lips curve into a smile as she looks to you.

“See, darling?” she says, her eyes doing another onceover at you, “you’d fit into the luxurious lifestyle perfectly.”

Behind her, a tall, dark-skinned man emerges from the car, his teeth a pearly white and his eyes a beautiful gold. Even though you’ve met him numerous times, the sight of Daki’s sugar daddy still makes you weak in the knees. He’s insanely gorgeous – not to mention intelligent – and positively dripping with wealth. It’s this “gathering” he was invited to attend in the first place; obviously, he wanted to bring Daki along, but he was also nice enough to let her bring you along whenever he was busy talking to friends and potential clients.

“Are you ladies ready?” he says, buttoning his jacket closed. Daki clings onto his arm, looking almost tiny against his broad frame. He turns his dazingly smile to you, an encouraging look in his eyes. How Daki managed to find a sugar daddy who was so nice, you have no idea. You’re almost jealous of her. Almost.

Daki’s free hand intertwines with yours, and the three of you set towards the front entrance. Your chauffeur drives off, the sweet purr of the Rolls Royce echoing in the night air. An entourage of staff greet you at the entrance, asking for your bags and coats and handing you tickets in return. It happens so fast that you’re left reeling at the attention, but the other two seem perfectly fine with the whole situation.

Soon enough, you’re whisked into a large room, a sea of people filling the entirety of the space. A small orchestra sits on the far side of the room, their instruments pristinely polished as they provide tonight’s entertainment. Tables line the walls, covered with white tablecloths and French pastries. Your mouth waters at the sight, your eyes drawn to the silver platters covered with macarons; you are so going to spoil yourself tonight. A man in waistcoat and black tie stops in front of you three, gently urging you to take a flute of champagne. You sheepishly accept a glass, glancing over to Daki.

“Is it always this… rushed?” you ask her. “It feels like so much is going on at once.”

Separating herself from Idris – her sugar daddy – she merely shrugs a shoulder. “You get used to it, darling. Now, enjoy yourself. You deserve to be treated like royalty once in a while, and I’ll be damned if you don’t.” She gestures to the drink in your hand. “Drink up.”

With a slight sigh, you do as told; the champagne is surprisingly sweet, almost feathery light as it slides down your throat. You’ve never had anything like this before. It’s almost… delicious? Is that the proper word to use here? If anything, it tastes expensive.

As if sensing your inner turmoil, Idris is quick to speak up. “It’s a Shinazugawa special. What’d they call it, babe?” he asks, turning to Daki.

“La Libellule,” Daki responds. “It’s delectable, isn’t it? I’ve always loved the brand.”

You nearly drop the glass. Shinazugawa? Like, the Shinazugawa? One of the most expensive alcohol companies on Earth? Shit, a bottle of their wine is more expensive than your monthly rent – maybe even a couple.

“Yeah,” you say, albeit shakily, “it’s great.”

Idris hums, his expression thoughtful. “I can introduce you to the owner, if you want.” He acts so nonchalant, casually sipping on his champagne as you and Daki drop your mouths.

“Wait, seriously?” Daki chirps. “Please, Daddy? That’d be incredible!”

“Of course, babe,” Idris says, swiftly planting a kiss to Daki’s temple. “If you ladies would follow me…”

Your mind switches to autopilot as you follow after Idris through the crowd, struggling to keep up with his long strides. Delicate perfume and rich cologne fill your senses as you pass by CEOs, celebrities, you name it. It seems almost if everybody who’s anybody is here. Still, Daki keeps a hand in yours, providing you both with support and comfort. She wants you to have fun, after all. She wants you to have a taste as to what her life is like.

As you draw further away from the crowd, you’re led down a hallway with only a couple of stragglers mill about. The music from the main room drifts down the hall, the shiny floors and beige-and-gold walls putting you in mind of royalty. Idris leads you to a solid oak door and stops right in front of it. Glancing over his shoulder, he sends the two of you a teasing smile.

“You might want to prepare yourselves, ladies.” With those words, he twists the brass doorknob open.

Immediately, you’re hit with a rich, thick cloud of tobacco. Spices and citrus mix with the cloud, along with hints of florally perfume. Glancing inside, you’re met with the sight of leather couches and a billiards table. A mahogany bar sits on the other side of the room, its shelves filled to the brim with name-brand drinks and mixers.

A small group of people loiter in the room; your heart drops to your stomach as you quickly come to realize that you recognize all of them. A few men are gathered around the billiards table, watching as one with a head of wild hair takes aim at a ball. Shinazugawa Sanemi – owner and CEO of a liquor company that people pay top dollar for.

Your hand tightens around Daki’s. Is this seriously happening right now? You’re in a room full of influential people, and you feel smaller than a goddamn ant.

There’s a loud clack as Sanemi takes his shot, the balls bouncing off each other and one flying into a pocket. One of the other men standing by the side – Rengoku Kyojuro, an A-list actor – claps his hands, his expression impressed.

“Hey, Shinazugawa-san!” Idris calls out. The entire group turns to look at you three, their conversations coming to a halt. Idris either takes no notice or care as he crosses to the billiards table, his hand reaching out and shaking the group’s hands.

Daki looks to you, excitement glittering in her eyes. “Oh my god,” she whispers, “do you see who’s in here? Daddy is the best!”

At that, you have to agree. How Idris knows so many people like this, you have no clue. You figure it’s part of the life, being friends with the 1%, but it is impressive. Either way, you’re shaking like nobody’s business. You’re not part of the life, and you’re just barely skimming the surface. How does one even act around these types of people? You’re not in a crowd, so you can’t hide away and gorge yourself on macarons and bubbly.

A tall man with silver hair barks a laugh; dressed in a fine suit with rings on his fingers, you notice that it’s Uzui Tengen, a famous producer. The songs he writes are mostly number one hits, some of them even earning platinum records. The thing is, though, is that his music can be primarily found in somebody’s sex playlist. “Idris, you son of a bitch! How are you?” he exclaims, the hand not holding onto a cue clapping down on Idris’ shoulder.

“I’m well,” Idris says with a chuckle. “But I’d like to introduce you to some very lovely people.” Turning around, he beckons you and Daki over. Daki pulls you along, a bright smile forming on her pretty face. “This is my darling, Daki. And this is her friend, (y/n).”

“Well, well, well,” Tengen begins, his voice smoother than silk. Placing his cue down, he pulls his cigarette out of his mouth and quickly takes Daki’s hand in his and places a kiss to her knuckles. She giggles at the attention, her long eyelashes fluttering. Tengen then moves to you, a smirk on his handsome face as he then takes your hand. Your heart nearly stops in your chest, warmth running through your veins as he places his soft lips to the back of your hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” he purrs.

“Oi, didn’t you hear the man?” Sanemi barks. “He’s here for me, you idiot. Get your head out of your ass.” Brushing Tengen to the side, he comes to stand before you and Daki. “So. Idris wanted to introduce you girls to me.”

The fact that he sounds disinterested – even annoyed, damn – makes your heart thud in disappointment. Granted, he’s probably used to meeting people who want to fawn all over him, but can’t he be… You know… Nicer?

“What, am I not allowed to say how much I enjoy your products?” Daki says, her lips pursing into a pout.

Sanemi scoffs as he crosses his arms over his chest. You can’t help but stare at the exposed skin, the first couple buttons of his shirt undone. A simple silver chain hangs around his neck, a small pendant attached. You have to admit that he’s incredibly attractive, even if his personality begs to differ. “Can’t say that it’s the first time somebody’s tried to use that on me.”

“Shinazugawa-san, play nice,” Idris tells him.

Daki holds a hand up to stop him. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll even tell him that a virgin to your products absolutely loves your champagne.” She nudges your shoulder with her own. “Isn’t that right, (y/n)?”

Sanemi’s steely gaze switches to you. He almost looks amused. “Oh, really now? You’ve never tried my drinks? I’m actually surprised.”

You have half the mind to tell him off, that you aren’t a part of this crowd, but the words die on your tongue. There’s no point in starting an argument with this guy. Sanemi merely jerks his head towards the bar, an inviting glint in his eyes.

“Here, lemme show you what a real drink tastes like.”

You absentmindedly follow him over the bar, passing by Tengen in the process. He merely smirks down at you, the look in his eyes unreadable. Taking a seat at the bar, you watch Sanemi makes his way behind the counter and starts to make up some concoction. Idris sets to talking with the men surrounding the billiards table, going on about some upcoming vacations and the like. Rich people problems, you guess.

Daki comes over and takes the stool next to yours, an expectant look on her face. “Well? What do you think so far?”

“Like I said – rushed. We’ve barely been here for twenty minutes and I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

“It might be shock,” a new voice says. Looking to your right, you see a pretty woman with fair skin and dark hair taking the seat next to you. She holds out a dainty hand in greeting. “Kochu Shinobu. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Kocho Shinobu. The name rolls around in your head as you try to catch up with the fact that you’re sitting next to a renowned brain surgeon. Taking her hand in yours, you politely give it a shake as you provide her with your own name. Her face is pleasant, the light dusting of eyeshadow on her lids making her large eyes pop. Honestly, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that she was a model rather than a certified genius.

“Sanemi-san,” she says, her voice dainty, just like the rest of her, “be a dear and pour me a glass of barbera.”

“Doctor Kocho,” you begin, but Shinobu quickly shoots a hand up.

“Please, call me Shinobu. I only like to be called doctor when I’m at work. And, as you can tell,” she says, gesturing to the room with a wide sweep of her arms, “I’m not at work.”

Daki taps on your shoulder with a manicured finger. “Hey, (y/n), do you remember me telling you about my friend Mitsuri?” Turning fully to her, you look over her shoulder at a busty pink-haired female. She flashes you a dazzling smile as your eyes meet hers.

“Hi!” she chirps, waggling her fingers in greeting. With a giggle, she points to your outfit. “I see that somebody has some taste.”

Glancing down your clothes, you suddenly feel very self-conscious about the mesh shirt and the lacy bra it covers. It’s a beautiful shirt, yes, with its scattered silver stones inlaid towards the neckline. The silk skirt you wear flows down to your ankles, leaving your strappy heels on display. It’s an outfit Daki picked out, so you can’t take credit for how utterly great you look.

Daki sends you a knowing look. “Those clothes are from Mitsuri’s fashion line. I say, you look dashing in them.”

You gawk at your friend. “Wait, seriously? I didn’t know these were hers…”

Mitsuri graces you with another giggle. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I agree with Daki – you look incredible.”

“Blah, blah, blah, we get it. (y/n) looks pretty,” Sanemi interrupts. He sets glasses in front of each of you girls, all of them specially made (besides Shinobu’s glass of wine). “Come on, drink up. Once you had a sip of that, you won’t want another drink from anyone else ever again.”

The drink in front of you sits in a tall, pretty glass, its caramel color beckoning for you to try a sip. Hesitantly, you rise the glass to your lips, Sanemi’s focused gaze watching your every move. The alcohol is smooth, sweet; it burns your throat in a pleasant way, leaving you surprised. It’s delicious. Sanemi must notice the expression on your face since a cocky one forms on his own.

“What’d I tell you?”

You nod at him. “It’s amazing. What’s in it?”

Sanemi snickers. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” You honestly think your mind is playing tricks on you whenever he sends you a wink.

“Here, (y/n), follow me,” Mitsuri suddenly says. You give Sanemi your thanks before you quickly hop off the stool, leaving Daki to talk with the other two. “I’ll introduce you to everyone else, okay?”

She takes you over to one of the leather couches, two men with dark hair sitting side by side while another sits in a separate armchair. You instantly recognize the large one as Himejima Gyomei, a well-known sculptor; his works are nothing but beautiful, and it’s even more amazing knowing that he’s blind. His hands are truly gifted, and you’ve been following after his work for years.

“Oh, wow,” you breathe. “Uh, Himejima-san?” He perks up at your voice, the hand holding his Scotch lowering. “I just… I’m a huge fan of your works, sir.” You try to ignore the heat rising up your neck, the shaking of the drink in your hand.

And, much to your surprise, Gyomei starts crying.

Mitsuri places a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry – he does that a lot.” She sends you a reassuring smile. “Anyway, these two are Tomioka Giyuu and Tokito Muichiro.”

The other two men nod their heads in greeting. Unlike the others, they don’t seem the talkative type, but they’re breathtakingly gorgeous. You know Muichiro’s a dancer, having been in numerous shows; his lithe body tells you as such. He almost looks like a doll, with delicate features and crystalline eyes. He wears his long hair loose, the strands of it pushed behind his ears and revealing little silver hoops.

Giyuu, unlike Muichiro, is not in the entertainment business, but a CEO of a company, just like Sanemi. You know that his company deals with water technology, striving to clean up the Earth’s supply while providing others who need it. It’s admirable work, really, and you’re in awe to see him up close.

Mitsuri directs your attention away, pointing at the other person you have yet hear to talk – Iguro Obanai. Again, a successful businessman, except that he owns a ridiculously popular tattoo parlor. People always gush on social media about how cool he is, how incredible his artwork is, how amazing it is to have their ink done by him. To be touched by him is to be touched by a god. He’s just that good.

“You’ll the chance to talk to all of us, surely,” Mitsuri tells you. “It’s always nice to meet new faces.” Pulling you over to the couch, she ushers the other two to move aside so you have a place to sit.

The leather practically sucks you into a world of comfort as you sink down onto its plush cushions. You run your hand over the smooth material, subconsciously wondering just how much this thing is even worth. Your apartment would look great with this couch in it.

“Are you… enjoying yourself?” Giyuu questions you, voice low. He clears his throat. “Sorry. You just seem uncomfortable.”

Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. Is it that obvious that you’re new to this whole thing? You’re actually impressed that he picked up on that so easily. “Actually, Tomioka-san, this is my first time at a uh, gathering like this.”

A shiver travels down your spine as Giyuu turns his piercing gaze on you. “Oh. So you’re not here with Idris?”

You shake your head no. “I’m only here since Daki wanted me to be. She said I had to experience new things.” With a shrug, you take another sip of your drink; you don’t know why you’re practically spilling your guts to someone you’ve barely met, but something about Giyuu is… comforting, to say the least.

“Wait – does that mean you’re not with anybody?” Mitsuri speaks up.

Looking to her, a weird feeling blooms in your chest. What is that supposed to mean, anyway? “Uh… no?” you say slowly.

“(y/n), come on, let’s go,” Daki suddenly says. She’s standing by Gyomei’s chair, her hands resting on her hips. “I’m hungry and I know you were staring at those macarons earlier.”

You can feel your entire body heat up with embarrassment. True, while you love Daki with every fiber in your body, but she can be an utter brat sometimes. What she wants, she gets. It’s no wonder she became a sugar baby in the first place. You shoot the others sitting around you an apologetic glance as you stand up. Idris is already waiting by the door, seemingly sharing some last words with Kyojuro. Setting your glass down, you say a quick goodbye to everyone as Daki grabs you by the arm and pulls you over to the door.

“I gotta say, Idris, you’ll have to swing around some time for drinks,” Kyojuro is saying, his large hand shaking Idris’. He glances over to you as you and Daki wander over. “Oh, and you should bring your girls along.”

Idris waves a dismissive hand. “The only girl I need is Daki, Kyojuro. I don’t have that type of relationship with (y/n).”

“Oh, is that so?” Kyojuro drawls. His abnormal eyes scan over your body, an appreciate hum rumbling in his chest. He flashes you a brilliant smile; it makes you go weak in the knees since that’s the smile he uses on the red carpet. He’s even more handsome up close and in person. His tailored suit fits him so perfectly, and your imagination is already flying. A lot of the movies he stars in aren’t kid friendly, so you may or may not know what he looks like underneath the suit…

Coughing awkwardly, you attempt to smile at him in return.

“We’ll have to go out for drinks sometime,” Kyojuro tells you. “I’d like to get to know more about you.” The suggestive tone in his voice isn’t lost on you; in fact, it makes you excited. An extremely hot actor flirting with you? Yes please.

“She’ll think about it later,” Daki says for you. “It was nice meeting you, though!” You manage to send a quick wave to everyone in the room before Daki promptly pulls you out, making a beeline towards the main room and the delectable desserts on display.

Well… That was interesting.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny pillars #kny pillars x reader #kny hashira #kny hashira x reader #diamonds are a girl's best friend series

307 notes · View notes

mandoalorian · 4 years ago

Text

Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Prologue

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Eventual smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption.

But in this chapter - themes of a sexual nature.

Author’s note: Everything in bold italics is a flashback. Yay! This is the first part of my sugar daddy/sugar baby Maxwell Lord x f!reader Christmas fic. If you want to be tagged in future parts please let me know! Enjoy x

MASTERLIST | SUBMIT REQUESTS

PREVIOUS - PROLOGUE - NEXT

It was an exciting day for the staff at Black Gold Cooperative, and exciting days at Black Gold Cooperative were often hard to come by. Every year Maxwell Lord would begrudgingly allow his staff to take a few hours out of their work schedule to help decorate his main headquarters in time for Christmas. Christmas music boomed throughout each floor as everyone from secretaries, associates, chefs and cleaners would help each other engage in festive decorating. It was so much fun, everyone was beaming and laughing. The staff made sure to enjoy every second of it because they knew by tomorrow it would all be over.

Brittany, one of Maxwell Lord’s three assistants, had designated her input to the main lobby as she ushered in loggers who had cut down the forest’s biggest Christmas tree. They were pushing it into the lobby but struggling to get it through the double doored main entrance. Fern and pine cones nudged off the tree and rolled along the red carpet in the entryway.

“What are you just standing there for? Go help them!” she commanded the doorman, Andreas, with a roll of her eyes. The tall and strong built doorman walked over to the loggers and asked them if they needed any help.

Brittany turned around when she saw the dazzling yellow gold fairy lights strung delicately along the grand staircase. Her heart stopped when she saw the man of her dreams walk down them. Her very own prince Charming. Maxwell Lord was in a daze as he looked around the lobby of his company’s headquarters. Christmas lights sparkle and shine all around him, tinsel and banners strung up over paintings and portraits. Maxwell would never involve himself with the Christmas decorating but he did have a duty to check that it wasn’t overly tacky each year.

His dark blonde hair glistened golden under the fairylights that surrounded him, and he looked so incredibly smart in his light blue suit jacket, lilac shirt and royal purple tie with matching pocket square. Of course he looked just as smart every day but it was always special when he chose to wear colour instead of just chiaroscuro. Brittany caught on to Maxwell’s confused expression when his eyes locked onto the struggling loggers and his doorman pushing a Christmas tree through the double door.

“What’s going on over there?” Maxwell asked as his other assistant, Stephanie, who handed him his go-to black coffee. Brittany approached him with a wide smile.

“They’re struggling because we decided to get a bigger Christmas tree this year. They’ve spent the past half an hour trying to push it through the door.” Brittany explained, scrunching her nose up in dismay.

“And who’s idea was it to get a bigger Christmas tree?” Maxwell asked, folding his arms against his chest. The loggers had finally pushed it through and were now trying to position it just by the left of the grand staircase. Maxwell huffed out an annoyed sigh as he saw the mess of fern that had trailed in behind the tree.

“Andreas’ idea.” Brittany pointed at the exhausted doorman who was now covered in dirt from trying to move the Christmas tree. That was a lie. It had been Brittany’s idea to get a bigger tree. Stephanie narrowed her eyes and shook her head at her colleague.

Maxwell Lord sauntered away from his assistant’s and to the shop that was located just by the main reception help desk. He’d go there everyday and purchase the same bar of chocolate and chat up the lady who he had working behind the counter.

Everyone continued with their decorating, humming the lyrics to Do They Know It’s Christmas by BandAid which had just been released that week. Seeing everyone so jolly lit a fire in Maxwell’s heart. It reminded him of his own childhood.

The only reason he kept up with the tradition of decorating Black Gold Cooperative for Christmas was because his father used to allow it too. And it was one of the only times of the year he got to spend with him. Maxwell remembered the way his father would lift him onto his shoulders and encourage Maxwell to put the star on the top of the tree. Once the young boy managed to do so, the whole of his father’s office would cheer and applaud for him. The pride was something that elated a young Maxwell and he loved the validation that he got from, not only his father’s inferiors, but most importantly, his own father.

Maxwell would accompany his father around the office and watch as he gave gifts to his employees. He was more than generous, handing things out such as expensive bottles of champagne and tickets to Santa’s grotto to those he knew had families.

“I want to go see Santa,” a young Maxwell wailed one year.

“And what could you possibly want to see Santa for?” Maxwell’s father laughed, pinching his son’s chubby cheeks. “You already have every single toy you could possibly want.”

Maxwell frowned, his chocolate brown eyes sparkling. “I want to meet Rudolph the red nosed reindeer.” the child admitted, folding his arms and puffing out his cheeks.

“I see.” Maxwell’s father chuckled before picking his son up and planting a kiss on his forehead. “You know daddy’s busy, but what if you ask mommy to take you?”

“Mommy never takes me anywhere.” Maxwell frowned sadly and his father nodded understandably, his arms tightening around his son as he hugged him. He knew his wife was an absent mother but there was so little he could do about it.

“Maybe next year, huh son? Would you like that? Daddy can try and get some time off work.” Maxwell nodded sadly as his father put him to the ground. “Now go to your playroom. I want you to finish writing your Christmas list so we can send it to Santa Claus.” His father encouraged. “Remember I want you to do your best cursive handwriting. Can you do that for me?”

Maxwell nodded happily before padding away to his playroom. Despite his father’s empty promises, he never got the chance to meet Santa Claus or speak to Rudolph the red nosed reindeer. He never got to experience the same things as other children his age did.

"Mr Lord, I was thinking we position the Christmas tree here. Decorate it with black and gold baubles, of course— oh, and tinsel too. What do you think?" Brittany asked, interrupting her boss’ thoughts. She twirled her finger in the air, gesturing for the logger’s to rotate the tall pine tree into a slightly new position. "That's much better. Now, Amanda wanted an angel on the top, bit I was thinking a gold glittered star would be much more fitting-"

The star at the top of the tree. Just like his childhood. Maxwell shook away the painful memories. He held his hand out, in a motion that would connote ‘stop’. Brittany listened. "I don't care." Maxwell said, looking up at the tree and shaking his head. Brittany’s grip tightened around her clipboard as she followed her boss to the grand staircase.

"Right, of course. My bad sir. But I was thinking how nice it may be, for you to have a Christmas tree in your own office?"

"And what purpose will that serve?" Maxwell asked with half a sigh before taking a sip of his espresso. His face soured at the bitter taste and he threw the practically full cup into the trash. He had forgotten how fast his hot drinks would turn cold during the incoming winter period. "What the fuck does it take to get a decent coffee around here?" He muttered to himself, but loud enough for Stephanie to hear. Stephanie scowled. No matter what she just couldn’t make a nice coffee.

"It would look nice," Brittany beamed. "Festive."

"No." Maxwell replied, checking the time on his gold wristwatch. Slightly alarmed, he turned away from the lit up staircase and he began to approach the elevator, Brittany continuing to follow quickly behind him.

"Sir, don't you like Christmas?" Brittany asked her boss curiously.

"No." Maxwell repeated, his voice just as monotone as before. He really didn’t want to talk about this.

"But why not?"

"Brittany do I pay you to ask me questions?" Maxwell snapped, spinning around on his heel and grabbing his assistant by her chin. She looked up at her boss, fluttering her dark eyelashes which framed her emerald coloured eyes.

"No sir." She replied innocently, biting her lower lip. Maxwell smirked, his grip tightening on her.

"What do I pay you for?" he growled quietly, his face just inches away from hers.

"You pay me to look pretty and be there whenever you may need any assistance." Brittany remembered his exact words from the day he hired her.

"Good girl," Maxwell praised. "I don't appreciate all these questions from you. You want to put your mouth to good use? I suggest you shut up and head to my office. Undress yourself. I'll be five minutes."

Brittany nodded with an eager smile spread across her face and bolted up the grand staircase. Once Maxwell had shared a few polite sentiments and signed a few autographs from the loggers who had come in with the Christmas tree, he took the elevator to the 22nd floor of his office.

Amanda, who was manning the desk outside of Maxwell’s personal office, rolled her eyes as she noticed Maxwell following Brittany in there just minutes after. Knowing what they’d both be up to, she continued filing her nails - trying to get the perfect shape when her colleague, Stephanie, practically fell out of the elevator when the door slid open to the 22nd floor of Black Gold Cooperative’s headquarters.

In shock, Amanda dropped her nail file on the floor and her head bolted upright, gaze following a heaving and panting Stephanie. Stephanie ran to the desk, grabbing the corners so hard her knuckles turned white, panic spread across her face.

"Stephanie, what's wrong?" Amanda asked, tilting her head slightly.

"She's here." Stephanie was gasping for breath, fear prevailing in her ice blue eyes. Stephanie didn’t have to say who exactly had entered the premises because her tone said it all.

"That's impossible." Amanda scoffed, rolling her eyes and picking her nail file up.

"I saw her," Stephanie continued. "Downstairs. In the lobby. I was trying to make Mr Lord a new and improved espresso and she just threw her fur jacket on me - like I was some kind of coat rack. She'll be up here any second now. Where is Brittany?"

That’s when the fear dawned on Amanda.

Now also panicked, Amanda looked at the large double doors at the end of the room which led into Maxwell Lord's personal and private office. Stephanie's gaze followed and her ruby red lips parted into a perfect ’o’ shape. "She's not… is she?" Stephanie shook her head in disbelief. Amanda nodded her head, agreeing to Stephanie’s insinuation. "What the hell do we do?!"

"Oh no oh no," Amanda began pacing around in circles behind the desk. "They don't train you for this!" She exclaimed, holding her head in her hands. "I think we better go tell them that she's here before she walks in on them."

"Are you kidding me?" Stephanie gasped, placing a hand on her hip. "Fine. You go. I do not want to be the one who interrupts Maxwell Lord IV when he's in the middle of you-know-what."

"He'll be grateful!" Amanda pointed out, urging Stephanie enter Maxwell's office. "Look, what sort of guy wants his mother to walk in on him going down on a random girl?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Mr Lord doesn't go down on any of us."

"He goes down on me." Amanda smiled proudly.

"You're lying." Stephanie tutted.

"Am not!" Amanda argued.

Neither of the girls noticed Mrs Maxine Lord walking straight past them and into her son’s office. She froze at the door and a wicked smirk planted across her lips when she saw a disheveled Brittany wipe her face with a silk handkerchief, provided courtesy from her boss. Maxwell’s brown eyes widened as he saw his mother standing there with her hand on hip. Brittany was practically shaking in fear as she discarded the handkerchief and tightened the ponytail in her hair.

“Mrs Lord!” Brittany exclaimed with a teary eyed but polite smile. “How unexpected it is to see you. Can I get you anything?”

“You can leave.” Maxine said bitterly. Brittany nodded and ran out the office. Maxwell zipped his pants up and slouched into his chair as his mother took a seat opposite him. “Do you want a lawsuit?” she asked her son with a frown.

“What are you talking about?” Maxwell sighed, taking a comb and fixing his dark blonde hair.

“You keep fucking your assistants. One of them will rat you out and try suing. I just know it.” Maxine shook her head, placing her Chanel purse on her lap. “And Maxwell, I don’t want the future heir of Black Gold Cooperative to be the child of some no good under qualified assistant. Heaven forbid.”

“Mother, why did you come here unannounced?” Maxwell sighed, wanting to change the subject immediately. Maxine composed herself before forcing a grin.

“I spoke to president Reagan,” she beamed. “He said we can host this year’s Christmas gala at the White House.”

“Okay?” Maxwell rolled his eyes and took out a stack of papers from underneath his desk and began flicking through the pages. He figured if he looked busy, then maybe his mother would leave him alone.

“Maureen will be there.” she cooed, snatching away the papers that were in her son’s hand.

“And?” Maxwell sighed again, frustration building up inside of him as he looked at his fingers, thinking her abrupt action had given him a paper cut.

“Oh come on Maxwell!” his mother exclaimed, annoyance prevalent in her voice. “Think about it. Your future child’s grandfather could be president Ronald Reagan! And Maureen is quite the natural beauty. I mean - before she had all that work done. It would truly be great for the business. Can you imagine the publicity?”

“Do you hear yourself?” Maxwell shouted and stood to his feet. “I am not interested in Maureen, nor will I be attending this ridiculous Christmas gala. Jesus Christ - I don’t even support Reagan.”

“Yes you will attend the gala Maxwell, because I say so.” Maxine raised her voice just as loudly as her son, asserting her authority. “I think you’re forgetting your roots. Your father founded the annual Black Gold Cooperative Christmas gala. Now imagine how he’d feel if he knew you had no interest in showing up.” Maxwell’s heart stung and he dropped his head in shame. She was right. He would be disappointed. “I will page you the details,” Maxine promised. “In the meanwhile - I want you to sort this dirty business you have going on with your assistants. You want a whore? You could at least pay them for being your whore.” she spat in disgrace.

Maxwell knew his mother didn’t mean her words and the last thing she would want is her son frolicking around with someone who he paid for sex and sex only. She wanted him to find a suitor who was just as wealthy and well respected as him.

However it did strike him with an idea. What if he were to hire someone who could be there for him whenever he needed that release? His assistant’s were on thin ice and he understood that there was always the potential of an impending lawsuit. That would be more than damaging to his reputation.

He needed someone new. Someone who would be more than happy with satisfying his sexual desires. Someone he could easily come to a mutual agreement with him. He’d have his lawyer draft a contract. But it wouldn’t be easy. If it got out to the public - that Maxwell Lord was looking for a partner just to simply gratify his sexual needs - the tabloids would eat him up. Luckily, Maxwell Lord was cunning, scheming, and he had the perfect idea.

❆❆❆

Taglist: @100layersofdaddyissues @mrschiltoncat @honeymandos @thisisthe-way

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #smut #max lord #max lord x reader #wonder woman 1984

189 notes · View notes

onceinabluehanguangjun · 4 years ago

Text

ao3

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“Isn’t my entire life just a series of me doing you favors?”

Wei Ying grinned wildly as Wen Qing glared a hole into his face, as per usual. Neither of them broke until her little brother, Wen Ning, quietly laughed at them with his eyes on the cup of tea in his hand. Wen Qing softened almost immediately and Wei Ying stuck his tongue out.

“What do you need, Qingqing?”

Wen Qing rolled her eyes, but she sat up a little straighter to sell whatever favor she needed from him.

“You know how my school does little carnival-esque fundraisers where everyone sets up a booth and shit?” she asked. Wei Ying nodded.

“Because they’re stupid rich and somehow wanna suck even more money from their students, including the ones who are there on scholarship, yes, I know how it does that.”

“Exactly,” Wen Qing agreed, taking a deep breath, “My group‒just me and a couple of other scholarship students‒decided to do a kissing booth because they’ve done well in the past years and I’m not trying to get on the dean’s bad side.”

“Oooh, a kissing booth? How shameless! Do you need me to do your makeup so you get more willing participants?” Wei Ying teased. Wen Qing stared at him blankly until he laughed and gestured for her to continue.

“I need your help finding someone to, like, be the face and do all the kissing. Someone rich people will want to pay to kiss. I need a guy, Mianmian’s already agreed to take one for the team,” Wen Qing said. Wei Ying’s smile slowly found his face.

“Alright, alright, I’ll do it.”

“That’s not at all where I was‒”

“I understand, I’m irresistible! And I’m a great kisser, so they’ll probably even come back for seconds,” Wei Ying insisted, sitting back. Wen Ning was back to suppressing his laughter.

“You don’t shut up long enough for anyone to kiss you,” Wen Qing said, “I was hoping for you to ask Lan Zhan, maybe.” Wei Ying scoffed.

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying repeated. He thought of his rigid next-door neighbor that he all but forced to be his best friend. He went to her ridiculous school and was one of the rich ones. Not that he wasn’t smart enough to get there on scholarship, but he had the money. Still, the idea of him at a kissing booth was laughable. “Lan Zhan would be terrible at that!”

“Why? He’s conventionally attractive, that’s what we need,” Wen Qing insisted.

“First of all, conventionally attractive sounds like an insult to him,” Wei Ying said, ignoring the way she took a deep breath of annoyance, “Second of all, he’s the most uptight person ever! I don’t think he kisses people. Or ever plans to. I can’t imagine him kissing anyone without being extremely uncomfortable and deciding never to do it again.”

“You can’t imagine him kissing anyone?” Wen Qing asked slowly, raising a dubious eyebrow. Wei Ying shook his head.

“No! He doesn’t even like being touched, why would want to kiss anyone? Silly suggestion. I’ll do great! Much better than he would,” Wei Ying said firmly. Wen Qing shook her head.

“I know you, you won’t like doing that.”

“What do you mean? I’m going to love it! Kissing rich randoms all day sounds awesome. Besides, maybe one of them can fall in love with me and I’ll have a sugar daddy. Or mommy. I’m not picky at this point,” Wei Ying insisted. Wen Qing closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Come on! Let me do it!”

“If you agree to this, you realize you can’t go back on it? You have to actually commit, you can’t chicken out,” Wen Qing insisted. Wei Ying gasped playfully, putting his hand over his heart.

“How dare you insinuate I’m not reliable! Ning-di, tell your sister I’m the most reliable person she’s ever met,” Wei Ying said. Wen Ning looked up with wide, doe eyes when he realized he was being dragged into the conversation. He looked between the two of them.

“Ying-ge did help me finish my project last week,” he said, “And every other project. And made sure it didn’t break on the way to school.”

“See! Reliable!”

“Helping my brother with homework is one thing, you kissing a bunch of people without panicking is another thing,” she said.

“Why would I panic?” Wei Ying scoffed.

Sure, he was almost 18 and hadn’t had his first kiss yet, but that was normal. Besides, what better way to get your first kiss over with than in the least sexy and most clinical way possible? It’d be like a practice round and when he had his first real kiss, then he’d be even better at it than he knew he already would be.

Still, Wen Qing fixed him with a look.

“Alright, fine. But when you freak out, you’re still gonna go through with it. See you next week.”

Wei Ying snorted as she stood up and he leaned towards Wen Ning.

“She loves me.”

“Yeah,” Wen Ning agreed. Wei Ying’s smile was a lot more genuine as he sat back in his chair, his cheeks tinted a bit red at the casualness of it. He was younger than him by a few years, barely 15 and ridiculously shy. But he wasn’t shy about how much he enjoyed Wei Ying’s friendship and that always threw him for a loop. “Bye, Ying-ge.”

“Bye! Text me if you need homework help,” he said, sending them off with a wave.

Wei Ying was left alone for just long enough to get a bit antsy with not much to do other than stare at his phone. However, Lan Zhan came to the rescue, as per usual, and filled the empty seat.

“Lan Zhan! How was orchestra practice?” Wei Ying asked, leaning forward. Lan Zhan, with his perfect posture and his cute little uniform and his adorable little curtain bangs, sat his bag in the chair beside him and carefully took a sip of the tea he’d ordered.

“Fine,” he said simply. Wei Ying nodded.

“That’s good. You just missed Wen Ning and Wen Qing, they were here. Oh, she mentioned that fundraiser. What booth are you doing?” he pressed. Lan Zhan looked at him through his eyelashes over the cup, momentarily making eye contact. Warmth bloomed in Wei Ying’s chest. He always felt special when Lan Zhan made eye contact with him. It reminded him that they really were friends and Lan Zhan didn’t hate him.

“No booth,” he answered, “Uncle agreed to simply donate the required amount so I wouldn’t have to attend.”

“Of course, of course,” Wei Ying said. He knew Lan Zhan wasn’t really a fan of crowds, so that made sense. “But, ah, well, I’ll be there, so maybe you’ll come by anyway?”

“You’ll be there?” Lan Zhan asked, slowly putting his cup down. Wei Ying smiled and nodded, leaning forward even more.

“Yeah, Wen Qing needed a guy to do the kissing booth,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan blinked a few times and his eyebrows raised.

“A kissing booth?”

“Yes!”

“And you will be… doing the kissing?” he asked. He had a similarly skeptical tone in his voice to Wen Qing and Wei Ying couldn’t help but make a hurt noise.

“Why does everyone think so little of me? I can kiss strangers with no problem!”

“Mn.”

“Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan kept his eyes on the table as he took another sip of tea. Wei Ying was really interested to know what about it made it seem so impossible that he would be willing to kiss strangers. Did he really seem that innocent and inexperienced? He clearly needed to work on the vibe he was giving off.

“It seems,” Lan Zhan said, pausing for a long moment as his grip tightened on his cup, “Unsanitary.”

“Ah, I’ll buy a whole bottle of mouthwash for the day, how’s that?” he says.

“Mn.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying called, leaning even further to the point his head was almost on the table and his arms were stretched out. Lan Zhan wasn’t smiling, but it was very close. His features had gone all soft and Wei Ying highly considered pinching his cheek. “You and Wen Qing are so mean to me. Can’t I have enough confidence to kiss half the girls in your school for money?”

Lan Zhan blinked slowly in that way that drove Wei Ying just a bit insane. He moved and spoke so slow sometimes. Wei Ying was convinced if he was anyone else, Lan Zhan would never be able to hold his attention. He even had to listen to podcasts on 1.5x speed just so he wouldn’t lose interest.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan said.

Wei Ying slumped in his chair and groaned.

“I’m going to prove it to you and Wen Qing that I’m entirely capable of pulling this off.”

“Alright.”

Wei Ying glared at him, but it didn’t last long. It was hard to glare at him for long. Instead, he sighed dramatically and took out his earbuds, the wire hanging as he held one of them out to Lan Zhan. He accepted it and slowly put it in his ear as Wei Ying put the other in his. They had to lean a bit into the counter to share, but they’d been doing this nearly every day for as long as Wei Ying could remember.

“This episode’s on King Leopold II.”

“Mn.”

Wei Ying was fine.

Every day leading up to the kissing booth, he’d been fine. Wen Qing had texted him and reminded him that he couldn’t back out and he would say, ‘why would I want to?!’ and he was serious. This would be fine.

But now that he was set to be there in two hours, he was starting to lose his nerve.

“Jiejie, do I look alright?” Wei Ying asked for what was probably the billionth time. Jiang Yanli looked up from her laptop and gave him a very thoughtful look so he wouldn’t call her out for just saying he looked good without thought.

“You look very handsome.”

“Handsome? I don’t need to look handsome, I need to look hot.”

“A-Ying, I think you’re going to have a line of people wanting to kiss you,” she insisted. Wei Ying sighed, dragging his body over to her. He fell to her bed dramatically and let himself indulge in the sound of her amused laughter as he dropped his head to her shoulder. “What’s wrong, A-Ying?”

He sighed, “Have you ever kissed anyone, Jiejie?”

“Yes,” she answered easily. He tried not to let the instinctive face of disgust take over.

“Do you think any of the girls will know I’ve never kissed anyone?”

“Well, probably not because it’ll be short kisses, won’t they? They’ll be none the wiser,” she said. Wei Ying still managed a pout.

“Will you beat them up if they laugh at me?”

“Of course I will,” Jiang Yanli laughed softly, her hand reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear. Wei Ying nodded and tried to calm his mind down with her presence.

He was sad to see that it only helped a little bit.

“I’m gonna go change into something hotter,” he said. Jiang Yanli laughed and nodded.

“Alright. Don’t leave without a goodbye.”

“I won’t.”

Wei Ying made his way into his room and looked at himself in the mirror hanging on his closet. He’d left his hair down because he thought maybe he looked edgy, but he was beginning to think it was just a recipe for disaster. If he left it down, he’d just mess with it the entire time. He raked it into a messy ponytail and pulled a bit down to frame his face. His nails scraped over the shaved sides and wondered if those should be touched up too.

Instead of thinking too much about that, Wei Ying quickly changed his shirt again. This time he tried a black button-up which he stopped buttoning when the top four were undone. He stared at himself and buttoned another one and then stared at himself and then unbuttoned it.

“Why do I care so much? I’m never going to see these girls again. This is totally useless, this is just for practice,” he grumbled to himself, though he could already feel his face getting warmer and warmer by the minute. It was all fine when it was just a thing he agreed to. Now that he actually had to do it, well…

“Wei Ying?”

Wei Ying nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard his name, spinning around with his hand over his heart. Lan Zhan stood there in the doorway, hands neatly behind his back. There were many times in life where Wei Ying was happy to see him, but this was easily one of his favorites. He needed a distraction and Lan Zhan was good at that.

“Warn a man next time, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, though he was thankful for being startled. For a moment, his head emptied.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan said, taking a step inside his bedroom.

“What are you doing here? Not that I don’t like seeing your face, but I figured you’d be spending the evening curled up with a good book or, or a movie. Or a new K-Drama, maybe. Something other than thinking about the lame fundraiser. Super lame, you know,” Wei Ying rambled.

Lan Zhan nodded and his hand reached out the grab the edge of the door. Wei Ying’s eyes followed it as he closed it, leaving the two of them in the room alone. He could count on one hand how many times they’d been in a closed space completely alone. Somehow it made his throat feel dry. Though, that might be him freaking out about the kissing booth still.

“Wen Qing asked me to check on you,” Lan Zhan said, “To make sure you were alright.”

“I’m fine,” Wei Ying said, standing up straighter, “She needs to learn to stop babying me. I’m a grown man.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan hummed, his hands returning to the space behind his back as he took a step closer, “So I should tell her you aren’t worried.”

“I’m not! I’m fine!” Wei Ying said and if his voice was a bit higher than normal, so what.

Lan Zhan took a step back.

“Mn. I was going to help you relax, but if you’re relaxed, then I’ll go,” he said. It was bait and Wei Ying knew it was bait, but he couldn’t help himself but call out.

“Wait,” he said, pulling at the hem of his shirt, “What were you gonna do? Like, in case I was nervous.”

Wei Ying would never say it, but there was something about Lan Zhan that made his mind a bit easier. He seemed to quiet some of the noise just by being there. Yes, he spoke slow and moved slow, but that forced Wei Ying’s brain to do the same.

Lan Zhan took a step forward again.

“I was going to say that kissing isn’t that complicated,” he said. Wei Ying rolled his eyes.

“How would you know?” Lan Zhan’s eyebrow raised and Wei Ying’s stomach plummeted as it came to his attention that perhaps he’d been wrong about that. Lan Zhan took another step closer to him. Wei Ying swallowed. “I have a confession to make, Lan Zhan.”

“Mn.”

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” he said. Saying it out loud just made him feel even more nervous. “And now I feel stupid and like I’m going to embarass myself. All those girls have probably kissed a ton of guys and they’d be paying money just for me to let them down and then I’ll let Wen Qing down because they’ll tell their friends that it wasn’t that good. Then I’m going to have to come up with a way to pay for her share of the donation because it’ll be‒”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said, voice low and smooth and distracting.

“What?”

“Wei Ying,” he repeated, taking another step closer.

Wei Ying’s eyes shifted between his close proximity and the closed door. Lan Zhan’s hand moved from behind his back to reach up and gently place on Wei Ying’s jaw. His mind started spinning with a whole new wave of thoughts.

“Oh,” Wei Ying said seconds before Lan Zhan closed the space between them.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to happen‒mainly because what the fuck‒but Wei Ying found himself shocked when it lasted longer than a couple seconds like he was sure the kissing booth kisses were going to be. Instead, Lan Zhan tilted his head and parted his lips just a little, just enough to slot perfectly around Wei Ying’s bottom lip to give it a little kiss of its own. He then pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and then another peck right on his lips before pulling back.

Wei Ying stood there, frozen as he stared at Lan Zhan with wide eyes. He hadn’t realized he wanted to do that.

“Close your eyes, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan instructed softly.

“Well, wait, are you gonna do that again?” Wei Ying asked. Lan Zhan got that whole soft-faced thing again and nodded, so Wei Ying promptly shut his eyes.

They were the same height so there truly was no reason for Lan Zhan to touch his chin and tilt his head up, but it certainly made things a bit more fun. Lan Zhan kissed him again, parting his lips again much sooner and Wei Ying followed suit. He mimicked the way Lan Zhan moved, hoping that it wasn’t too embarrassing and somehow not giving a shit even if it was. It was good.

And then Lan Zhan pushed his tongue past Wei Ying’s lips.

Wei Ying gasped in response, moving back just a little and Lan Zhan immediately stopped. He opened his eyes and made eye contact with him, up close and personal.

“You, like, actually know what you’re doing, don’t you?” Wei Ying asked.

“Mn.”

“Who have you been kissing, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying teased, feeling a bit more than giddy. He pushed himself onto his toes and draped his arms around his neck. Lan Zhan had to tilt his head back just a bit to maintain eye contact and Wei Ying was enamored. “Wait, wait, don’t talk, just keep going.”

“Mn.”

Lan Zhan met his lips again, his tongue immediately pressing into his mouth and this time Wei Ying was expecting it. It was a little weird, but it was nothing he couldn’t adjust to. Nothing he wanted to stop. Especially not when Lan Zhan easily held the brunt of his weight the more he pressed into his personal space, causing him to arch his back as he did so.

His hands slid down to Wei Ying’s hips, giving them a small squeeze as he tugged him closer. Wei Ying continued to mimic him‒copying the way his tongue moved, the way his teeth grazed his lips, the way he didn’t mind if it got a little messy and a little gross. It would probably be gross with anyone else.

It was all normal until Wei Ying made a needy little noise that he hadn’t intended. He could feel his face grow warm and he considered pulling back, but Lan Zhan’s hand moved back to his jaw and he kissed him deeper. Then Lan Zhan started backing him up until his legs hit his bed.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying gasped, trying to catch his breath as he broke the kiss. Lan Zhan’s eyes opened again and met him.

“Wei Ying,” he said.

Wei Ying tightened his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck, finding himself quite desperate to keep him in his grasp. Lan Zhan obliged by not even trying to leave as his hand rubbed up and down his side mindlessly. He wanted to stare at him forever.

“Lan Zhan, why’d you do that?” Wei Ying asked after he was back to breathing normally. Or, as normally as he could when he was still this close to Lan Zhan. He was pretty sure Lan Zhan could feel his heart thudding in his chest. “Were you just being polite so I wouldn’t embarrass myself?”

Lan Zhan didn’t say a word, didn’t even hum.

“Was it because you’re just a good friend?” Wei Ying asked. Again, no answer. A pout slowly started to form on Wei Ying’s face. “Lan Zhaaan, give me an answer. I need to know!”

Lan Zhan’s eyes trailed away from him and down to the pout on his lips. And then he moved forward and took his pouting lip between his teeth. Wei Ying made a noise in shock, but he didn’t move away as he felt Lan Zhan’s tongue graze his lip. Then he was being kissed again and all of his questions left his head as Lan Zhan all but pushed him onto his bed.

He didn’t care what his motives were, he just didn’t want it to stop.

Lan Zhan hovered over him, leaving a trail of kisses over his cheek and his jaw and then to his neck. Somehow, that was when Wei Ying’s brain actually shut down. His eyes closed and his lips parted as he tried to keep steady breaths, his body all too attuned to the way Lan Zhan kissed and sucked and bit at his neck. There was no reason that should’ve felt as good as it did. It helped that he had his weight on him. All he could feel was Lan Zhan.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, bowing his head into his shoulder and hoping he didn’t minimize Lan Zhan’s target area. He kept his arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight as he did whatever he was doing to his neck. “Ahh, Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan.”

It was all cut short, though, when Wei Ying’s phone started ringing.

He very much wanted to ignore it, wanted to just continue doing this, but Lan Zhan reached for it and handed it to him. His biting and sucking turned into more patient kitten licks, but it was still distracting as all hell.

“What?” Wei Ying asked as he answered the phone, not bothering to see who was calling. He just hoped it wasn’t either of his adoptive parents.

“I’m going to be at your house in two minutes, so be outside,” Wen Qing said. Wei Ying’s eyes widened as he remembered that not only did he have to stop, but he had to kiss other people after this. How the hell was he supposed to do that?

And maybe he finally understood why Wen Qing had been hesitant.

“Okay, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. See you soon, Qingqing,” he said.

“You too, Wei Ying,” she said back and for once she sounded a bit fond.

The moment the call was over, Wei Ying groaned and kicked his feet childishlessly. Lan Zhan hummed in what seemed to be amusement against his collarbone.

“Lan Zhan, this has ruined me for everyone else this evening, do you understand? How am I supposed to kiss a line of girls after that?” he asked. Lan Zhan moved to prop himself up on his elbow, looking down at Wei Ying. If he wasn’t still pressed up against him, he probably would’ve thrown a fit.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan hummed, his fingers trailing idly up his body and to his neck where he pressed two fingers into a sore spot. Wei Ying furrowed his eyebrows and reached up to feel as well, still damp from Lan Zhan’s kisses. It took a few seconds to put together why it felt that way and his eyes went wide.

“Ahh,” he said, looking up to Lan Zhan, “Everyone’s gonna be able to see that in a few hours, won’t they?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan agreed, the faintest of smiles on his lips, “I’m not.”

“Lan Zhan, you’re so cheeky, I can’t believe it!” Wei Ying laughed, wriggling a bit as he moved to lay on his side so he could be chest to chest with Lan Zhan, “Ah, but I have to go.”

“You do,” he said. Wei Ying pouted again, only slightly hoping that’d lead to more kisses.

“Maybe if I use mouthwash like I said I would, you’ll kiss me like that later? Or, like, tomorrow‒at the latest, just in case I get sick of kissing after the booth,” Wei Ying said.

“Whenever Wei Ying wants,” Lan Zhan agreed. Wei Ying smirked easily, nudging his knee into Lan Zhan’s.

“Ah, don’t say that, you’ll be stuck with me hanging off you like a leech every day for the rest of your life,” Wei Ying teased.

“Alright,” Lan Zhan agreed. Wei Ying immediately felt his face flush and he bowed his head against Lan Zhan’s chest, shaking his head.

“How am I supposed to think straight if you agree to things like that?!” he whined. Lan Zhan hummed.

“Hopefully you won’t.”

“Was that a joke?” Wei Ying asked, lifting his head and laughing easily. Lan Zhan was smiling at him bigger than he ever had before. “Oh, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, stop it, I have to go and you’re making that impossible.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan said, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Go.”

“And this isn’t the last time we do this, right? Like, I get more Lan Zhan kisses, you promise?” he asked, pushing himself up beginning to crawl over Lan Zhan’s body. He paused to hover over him and make eye contact to make sure this wasn’t just a very intense fever dream.

“Mn.”

“Okay then. I’ll go,” Wei Ying said, climbing off him slowly and taking a few wobbly steps backward. The further away he got, the more he got to take in the picturesque image of Lan Zhan laying in his bed. “And I’ll be back and I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Goodbye, Wei Ying.”

“Bye, Lan Zhan.”

Wei Ying somehow made it out of the front door in one piece, his heart still thudding as he thought about what just happened. He still wasn’t quite sure what it meant between them, but he did know it meant he probably wouldn’t have to worry about kissing too many strangers after this.

When Wen Qing pulled up in her old, beat-up car and he climbed into the passenger side, she gave him a once over.

“Wow,” she said, “You actually don’t look like you’re nervous. Guess Lan Zhan was actually helpful.”

“Yeah,” Wei Ying laughed, touching his bottom lip, “Super helpful.”

#wangxian #wangxian fic #wei wuxian #lan wangji #mdzs #the untamed #my fic

30 notes · View notes

seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years ago

Text

Third time’s a Charm (Prologue)

Characters: Escort! Henry Cavill x small! Asian reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Virginity being taken. Payment in exchange for some ‘nooky’. Kinda Sugar mommy because you’re spending money for this man? Any filthy shit. We’ll get more specific soon. Reader having a conservative family. Asian reader. Smut, smut, smut. More detailed warnings will be included in every chapters I post. This fic is strictly and explicitly NSFW 18+ okay. Anyone who’s going to police me on this AU can go talk to my middle finger.

A/N: So, yeah. There ain’t much Henry fics out there for Asians like I. It makes me sad to see nothing for Asian readers. So, here I am. Making the most out of it since I AM one. 🤗💕 I have other x reader fics where it ain’t Asian so you can just visit my masterlist in my blog profile if you don’t like this. Thank you!

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira, @iloveyouyen, @rahdaleigh, @silverkitten547, @henrythickcavill, @kaatelyyynn, @marvelousell, @madelinelina, @summersong69, @raynosaurus-rex, @evansislife

TAGLIST IS OPEN FOR THIS ONE! If you want to be tagged, comment on this post or DM me. Thank you!

COCOON OF BITTERSWEET, BODY WARMTH. The feeling of misty, dried up perspiration grazing along your skins that faded after hours of heavenly pleasure. Moon light glimmering along the velvety, tender cotton filled duvet wrapped around you. Alongside came was a Herculean gentleman snuggled on your side.

The dead of the night finally came with someone to cuddle up with; a moment you have been waiting for years of staying all alone in your penthouse. Solitude and quietude being your partners in life until this particular man came into your life---though, it was a free choice to decide and let him in.

His arm was heavy and comfortable around your waist as he slept quietly through the night. The way he was cuddling beside you felt like a place he deserved to be in---a moment that you didn't expect to see and experience. Henry's bare skin on yours plucking your heartstrings with his fingers, taunting and playful for it was all the kinship has ever been with him.

Just pure falsity of what it felt to be in a relationship with a man like Henry.

"You know what's the problem with me?" you quietly whispered towards the sleeping bear of a man. A beat of silence filled the room after you've felt him unconsciously nuzzle his nose closer to your side, his growing stubble tickling your shoulder along with his breath hitting your painted neck filled with his own bite marks; greedy for possession over this sole contract and payment happening between you both.

The softest, deepest involuntary hum has been heard from his sudden shift. His face invading the personal space you've forbid any man to experience because of how uncomfortable and awkward it felt for you. Henry's voice sending ripples of overwhelming vibration inside your soul and heart.

"I immediately fall for a man who shows the tiniest bit of kindness towards me. I'm broken. Filled with issues of herself and one simple, sweet gesture is enough to sway me over. What a dumb girl I am,"

You've subtly turned your head to see his features up close and personal. Placid and continuously showing how lovely and beautiful he can still be despite taking deep slumbers and completely unaware of your eyes admiring the beauty laying unconscious for your lost affections to cease from her oddment of wanting him to stay perched beside you forever.

"What more if I already gave my virginity to you when I hardly let any man near me," pause. "---maybe paying for an escort was a mistake after all. Especially for a man like you, Henry."

A delicate peck on his stubbly cheek has got him furrowing those thick brows of his; reacting in a way that embraced your heart with a surprising fondness you didn't expect to realize after paying his time for the third time already---the harmless dates and unexpected trysts being the reason for your established affection for him. His endearment for you quietly slipping past his mouth like a curse bound to fill your mind with havoc for your fragile, wounded heart.

"Nugget." It was a mere whisper of a call. His eyes still shut closed with a small, dazed smile that lighted up your night. The tender curls of his hair falling on his forehead and temples which automatically had you brushing his hair away from his face, making him burrow his face further. Feeling the weary strength of his fingers grab onto the nape of your neck, pushing you to his face as his lips puckered to give you a soundly kiss.

Tonight will be the last rendezvous you have planned for him, not wanting to demand for his presence to be a constant addiction that will affect your life when you've been too used to having him around. Three days---three days is all it takes for your money to be wasted over a man who eventually sneaked past the doors to your heart.

Questions from your conservative family will be sent to you especially from your mother who had a joined bank account with yours. Your mind wandering at how it was going to be explained that you have spent over less than twenty thousand dollars for an escort---a Gigolo you've paid to get fucked over and over again.

Perhaps, curiosity will always be a person's worst foe in a world that was needed more love than hate and high-level satisfactions that people have wanted to achieve.

FEEDBACKS WILL BE NICE TO RECEIVE, BB’S! Chapter 1 is done already. I might post chapter 1 when I’m done with chapter 2. Might take longer because I have other fics too. Hehehe.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill au #henry cavill smut #henry cavill series #hc #henry cavill x female reader #Henry cavill x small!fem!reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill rpf #rpf

145 notes · View notes

wkemeup · 6 years ago

Text

The Witness (2)

series summary: After witnessing a Hydra hit and the handsome, flirtatious cop who had become a regular at your bar takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.

pairing: detective!bucky x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: flirty bucky AF

author’s note: idk about you guys but I’m ready to really get this series to get into the good stuff! lots of sweet/flirty bucky in this chapter before some angst hits ya soon 😉

series masterlist // previous chapter

You had only ridden in the back of a police car twice in your life. The first had been when you were seven years old. Legs too short to reach the floor, swinging nervously and tapping against the passenger seat, eliciting a sharp glare from the officer staring at you in the sideview mirror. You had your arms wrapped tightly around a small brown bear. It was old and tattered but it was one you’d had since you were a baby.

There were blood stains in its fur.

Your father was sitting on your left, staring at the window as he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes brimming with tears. He’d never been one to let his emotion hang on his sleeve and it was the last time he’d allowed you to witness it.

Sirens wailed as the car zipped through the busy streets of New York at an hour you’d never seen before. Not quite understanding what was happening, you were caught up in the lights of the city, mesmerized as they blurred into colorful streaks the faster the car sped through the traffic. It wasn’t until you arrived at the station and your father had been hulled off for questioning until you told the nice woman in blue about the man who had hurt your mommy.

Your second time was admittedly much worse. The sharp awareness of the events that had transpired rendering on an endless loop in the back of your mind. You couldn’t shake the image from your mind no matter how hard you tried. Charlie’s eyes boring into yours. The deafening sound of the gun shot. The way his body fell so limply to the ground. The blood – so much blood. Cold, distant brown eyes.

“You alright back there?”

You blinked a few times, trying to pull back your focus. You looked up at the review mirror to see Detective Barnes’ glance flickering back to you as he drove; a few seconds on the road, one back at you, repeat. You licked your lips and turned to look out the window – anything to avoid those blue eyes that seemed to see right through you.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, folding your arms protectively over your chest.

He had started to say something else when his partner, Wilson, hit him in the arm. The rest of the ride was silent save for the wailing of the siren.

By the time you reached the station, you were lost in your own thoughts. The door clicked open and you sat there, unmoving, for an additional minute before Detective Wilson carefully led you out of the car. It was quiet by the station, you noticed. Flashes of bright lights of photographers had lined your walkway to this very station when you were a child. Charlie’s murder wasn’t as newsworthy as your mother’s it seemed.

“I’ll get you some coffee,” Wilson said as he opened the door for you to step inside. A wave of cool air hit your skin and you shivered. “Barnes’ll take you to the interview room.”

Your eyes were squinting, attempting to shield yourself from the influx of florescent lighting. You flinched as the copier kicked into gear. It was too busy in this building for this hour of the night. A blinding headache pulsed at the nape of your neck. Twisting in your fingers, you realized you had been fidgeting with your necklace.

“How do you like it?”

You blinked. “W-what?”

Wilson smiled softly, nodding towards the coffee machine. “It ain’t good, but sometimes we can mask how shitty it is if you take something in it. I tend to go for the mocha creamer.”

“Which you steal from me, thief," a red-haired woman called from her desk without missing a beat as she typed away. She didn’t even lift her eyes to look as him.

He feigned offense and then leaned in closer before he spoke again, like he was telling a secret. “I can still get it for you, if you like.”

The red-head rolled her eyes, though she had started to laugh to herself. You found the very edge of your lip tugging, trying to pull a smile out of you, though it fell just as quick as it appeared. You were impressed he was able to get that much from you, anyway.

“Sure,” you said, your voice more broken than you realized. “One sugar, too?”

This got him smiling. He gave you a thumbs up before jogging over to the coffee table.

“Come on,” Detective Barnes gestured, “this way.”

You nodded, following him in a bit of a daze down the long corridor. He glanced back over his shoulder every few paces, almost as if he was checking to make sure you were still behind him. You were busy watching one of the officers dressed in official uniform lean against the wall, his forearm resting above the head of a young woman as she looked up at him over the top of her coffee. They were smiling at one another, laughing quietly as if sharing a secret. You didn’t know the last time you’d ever been on the end of a look like that unless it was surface level teasing. It reminded you a little bit of – oof.

You bumped right into Barnes’ back as he paused unexpectedly, face hitting square between his shoulder blades and he spun around to steady you. Snapped back into reality, your eyes fell down to his hands gripping your arms and he quickly pulled away as if he had burned you. He was being suspiciously quiet for the man who couldn’t stop running his mouth when he sat at your bar.

“Hey, Barnes, you ready?” A man stepped out from behind the closed door to your left. With a black suit jacket, carefully groomed goatee, and thick rimmed glasses, he didn’t exactly fit the part of the other cops roaming around. He pressed out a smile when he looked in your direction before his eye caught the officer and woman huddled in the breakroom through the window and he shouted, “Flirt with the analysts on your own time, Ward!”

The two quickly ducked away from one another.

“Stark,” Barnes grumbled. He didn’t seem pleased to see him. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought you could use some backup,” he quipped, shoving a file of papers into Barnes’ chest as he gestured for you to follow him into the room. You didn’t know why you did, but you looked to Barnes first, sending him a cautious look and waited until he nodded slightly before you took another step.

Dark grey drywall lined the open space and a long, horizontal mirror was imbedded in the wall to your left. In the center of the room, a metal table. Two single chairs facing one another and a silver bar fastened to the top of the table where a pair of hand cuffs could be woven through to bind the suspect in place. You weren’t a fool. You knew what this was.

“An interrogation room?” You paused at the entry way, nails digging into your skin.

Barnes clenched his jaw and cursed under his breath, though it seemed more directed at himself than anything else. Slowly, he nodded. “It’s just to talk.”

“You think I’m a suspect,” you gawked, more of a statement than a question. There was a reason you weren’t quick to trust cops. First on scene was always the prime suspect; your father had taught you that as a kid. Don’t go to the cops, they won’t believe you. They’ll take one look at your last name and think the worst. You sent an accusatory glare at Barnes and he shook his head, holding his hands up defensively.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re not not saying that.”

Barnes sighed, now running his hands through his short, dark hair; couldn’t keep the damn things still. He was looking at you like you were a child, lost and scared, like you were something to be pitied. It was starting to make your skin boil.

“We can’t officially rule it out until we go through the evidence and you give a statement,” he started, “I’m sure you’re familiar with how this goes -”

“What makes you say that?” you snapped, unable to hold your tongue any longer. “You think because of the people I serve in my bar that I’m dirty? Is that it? You don’t know shit about me, Barnes. You come into my bar a few times a week for a month and you think you have some kind of profile on me but-”

“We know your mom was killed by a hitman when you were a kid,” Stark's voice cut you off, carrying the kind of austerity that set you off guard. He said it so simply, so matter of fact, that it made you freeze in your tracks. You swallowed, pressing your lips together tightly as your heart started to pick up in pace. He leaned against the table.

“Tony,” Barnes warned, his voice low. “Watch yourself.”

Stark didn’t pay him any mind as he turned and sat on the edge of the table, folding his arms over his chest. “We know that your father was involved with trafficking drugs for Hydra. The same organization who hired the hitman that killed your mom, by the way.”

Barnes shouted for Stark to ‘back the hell off’, but he didn’t listen.

“We know that you now run the bar he used a front to sell heroin to poor kids on the street,” Stark continued. “We also know you have a big mouth and put on a brave little face for those low-lifes who pay your bills, but underneath it all, you're scared as shit. Maybe you can handle a bar filled of misdemeanors and petty thieves, but you don’t stand a chance against the big guns and you know it.”

You were seething as Stark pushed himself off the table and walked around to kick out the chair closest to the wall.

“Now - Sit. Down.”

Despite the rage boiling in your veins, you crossed the room and sat down in the chair, keeping your eyes trained on his with a burning look of disdain upon your features.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Stark?” Barnes grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You know more than you’re letting on,” Stark sneered at you, slamming a fist against the table enough for it to make you jump. “You’ve had a hand in your father’s business this whole time, haven't you? Haven’t you!”

"Stark!” Barnes barked, enough for his fellow Detective to take a few steps back. You exhaled a heavy breath. “This isn’t how I want you treating my witness.”

“What so she’s your witness?” Stark snapped back, momentum already riling up again. “You think this case is yours because you spend a few nights in her bar and maybe a little something on the si-”

“Enough!”

You sunk further into the chair, heat flooding to your cheeks as you glanced towards the booming voice coming from the doorway. The shadow of a man stood in its frame. As he stepped into the room, you noticed the features of his face were much kinder than his expression suggested. Short blonde hair, toned arms, and dressed in a black tie and white button-up shirt rolled to his elbows, decorated with pins and badges along the left of his chest and a police shield emblem on the sleeves.

“Captain Rogers,” Stark mumbled, shooting Barnes a glare. “What can we do for you?”

“It was getting loud in here,” the captain replied sternly, eyes glancing over to you cautiously before they returned to Barnes. “Is everything alright?”

You clenched your jaw, keeping your arms folded tight over your chest and everted your gaze.

Stark rolled his eyes, tapping his rather expensive looking shoe on the tile. “Look, Cap. This is our first lead on Hydra in months. Permission to treat the witness as hostile?”

“What? Permission denied!” Captain Rogers shook his head, aghast. “You’re not a lawyer, Stark. You’re a detective. Act like it!”

“She’s the daughter of a known Hydra affiant!”

“She’s not a threat, Stark,” Barnes retorted. He stepped out from his position leaning against the wall and into Stark’s direct path to you. His shoulders were so tense you could see the muscle through the thin layer of his shirt. “She’s just here to talk.”

“So you say!”

“Back down, Stark,” the captain warned.

Tony threw his arms in the arm. “Oh, so Barnes can flirt a little with the witness after hours and practically gets the case handed to him but I take this damn thing seriously and you’re punishing me?”

“What Detective Barnes does on his free time does not concern this precinct, Stark, you know that.”

“You’re only defending him because you two used to be partners before Commander Fury promoted you -- which was a serious conflict of interest by the way,” Stark argued.

“I’m still your captain, Stark. Watch it.”

“Am I the only one trying to bring down Hydra here!?” Stark started to pace the length of the room. He took a step to his left and you caught sight of yourself in the reflection of the two-way mirror.

Muffled shouted suggested Stark was still arguing with the captain, but you couldn’t hear much of what they were saying. Drifting out of focus to much of anything besides your reflection, your eyes caught on the red flakes in your hair, sunken skin below your eyes, and a far-off look about you that nearly made you cringe.

You tilted your face to the side, examining the splatter of blood along your cheek and started to rug at it vigorously. Neither Stark or Rogers seemed to notice, but Barnes had narrowed his eyes on you, watching carefully from the other side of the room. He was about to take a step forward towards you when Stark’s voice snapped you out of your trance.

“Have either of you actually read her father’s rap sheet? It’s a mile long and there’s no goddamn way she wasn’t involved!”

Red stained hands slammed sharply against the table, enough to leave a sting in your palms and you were on your feet before you could stop yourself, drawing the immediate attention of the three men in the room.

“I am not my father!”

You were panting, heavy breaths in your lungs as you stared down Stark. Admittedly, he was eyeing you with intrigue, like he was more impressed than suspicious of your claim. Legs crossed as he leaned against the two-way mirror, he started to grin.

“Oh, is this a bad time?” Detective Wilson peaked his head out from behind the captain’s large frame, carrying a cup of steaming coffee in his right hand.

“No, it’s not,” you groaned, waving for him to come in. “Thank you, Detective Wilson.”

He looked towards the captain before he entered, and with a subtle nod from the boss, Wilson quickly skidded into the room, half jogging but careful to keep his hand steady. The sincerity of it got you smiling again.

“Please, it’s Sam,” he smiled, winking at you as he set the coffee down on the table.

“That’s two people flirting with the witness now, Cap,” Tony pointed out, physically snapping and pointing in Sam’s direction. Though, this time, his tone was rather coy.

“Buck, I trust you to take her statement and ensure she gets home safely,” Captain Rogers ordered, nodding for Stark and Sam to exit the room. Sam sent you that flashy smile of his as Tony pushed himself away from the wall dramatically before they both were gone.

A heavy exhale from behind you as Barnes slowly paced around to the other side of the table. He took a seat, clearing his throat before he opened the pad of paper sitting to his left. Just the two of you alone in the room, you could feel yourself start to relax. It felt familiar with the barrier of the table between you, like a rusted metal version of your bar top.

Barnes was clicked the end of the pen, scribbling haphazardly against the paper, growing more and more frustrated when the ink refused to capture on the paper, only the imprint of the ballpoint pen left behind. He grunted and you couldn’t help but giggle under your breath, surprised he was able to turn your mood around so easily without even trying. He tossed the useless pen across the room and pulled a new one from his pocket.

“So, ‘Buck’, huh? Where’s that even come from?”

A smile tugged at his lips, though he kept his attention at the paper as he started to write his credentials at the top. “Middle name’s Buchanan. Friends call me Bucky.”

“Well that’s silly,” you shrugged, trying to suppress the grin on your face as he started to chuckle; the kind of sound that made you forget about the red stains on your skin and the horrors locked inside your mind, horrors he would ask you to relive in just a few minutes. You tried to push the thought away.

“Yeah, well, there were too many kids named James in my kindergarten class.”

You nodded. “Did you go to kindergarten in the 1920’s? You might know my grandfather, goes by Albert.”

He shook his head, a laugh actually escaping him a moment before he bit on his lip to hold it back in. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

A silence took over and you tried to capture the ease you felt in this moment, knowing that it would be difficult to find it again once he started asking questions. Barnes set the pen down on the table, pausing before he looked up at you.

“I’m sorry about Stark, by the way,” he said slowly. “He’s not usually that... abrasive. He’s got a, uh, personal stake in this. We’ve been trying to dismantle Hydra for years and he really thought you’d have answers for him.”

A careful nod as you considered his words. “You seem pretty sure I don’t.”

“I know we talk a lot about your bar being filled with criminals, but the truth is most of them haven’t been incarcerated in years,” Barnes said, a sincerity in his voice you didn’t expect. “They’ve got mostly petty crimes, drug possessions, or misdemeanor assault charges, nothing that would stop them from being a productive member of society since they served their time, but enough that it puts a bad label on ‘em. They’ve got the kinda look that screams ‘bad news’ and an attitude that goes with it, and yet, for some reason they flock to you.”

You blinked a few times, slightly taken back.

He continued. “They respect you. Not because of who your dad is, either. They stop dead in their tracks when you start reprimanding them because they know they disappointed you. You take care of them. You treat them like real people and hold them to a standard they don’t find out on the streets. You tried to save the life of that man in the alley tonight. I saw that. I saw how hard you tried to bring him back and how hard you took it when you couldn’t. Someone like that ain’t got a thing to do with Hydra. I’d bet my badge on it.”

You paused, letting his words sink in. “That’s a heavy wager, Detective Barnes.”

A beat. A soft smile lifting his callused lips. Then, “I thought I already told you my friends call me Bucky.”

***

You spent the next three hours going over those seven minutes of your life in excruciating detail. Everything from when Charlie had tried to escort Matty out of the bar to you hiding in the alley behind the dumpster to when Bucky and Sam had arrived on scene. You had tried to tell him every detail you could possibly remember on the man with the gun, but it was too dark. You’d only seen his face for a second, it wasn’t enough time to do a sketch rendering. All you could tell him about was the tattoo on the man’s neck, but that was something most of Hydra had anyway. Bucky had hoped you’d be able to identify the face in a picture of known Hydra affiants, but that had come up empty.

Nothing you told him seemed to bring him any closer to a lead. It was nearing six in the morning when the frustration that had been building for hours started to snap.

“We’ve been at this all night!” you huffed, pushing out your chair as you started pacing the room. Bucky sat back, folding his arms as he watched you. You pushed away the hairs fallen into your eyes. “What- What good am I to Charlie if I can’t even remember what the asshole who killed him even looked like!”

“Come on, Y/n, this ain’t your fault and you know that,” Bucky reminded you sincerely. He had said it a few times so far this morning, though he didn’t once sound tired of saying it.

“I can’t-” You groaned, leaning against the table for support. “I can’t remember. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Bucky reassured as he set down the pen and flipped back the seventeen pages he had scribbled in the notebook. Seventeen pages of material and you still felt useless. “Why don’t I get you home, okay? It’s been a long day. You can give us a call if you think of anything else, alright?”

You nodded, a yawn taking over before you could suppress it. “Sorry I kept you all night. Bet your wife’s a tough woman for putting up with this life.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah… no wife. This job doesn’t allow for steady relationships.”

“But it does allow for flirting with witnesses,” you accused through a teasing smirk.

“Didn’t know you’d be my witness yet, Y/n,” Bucky retorted through a smile, gesturing towards the door. He opened it for you and followed you out into the hallway.

Damn those florescent lights.

“Detective Barnes!” A kid dressed in the official blue uniform scurried across the bull pen, skidding around Sam who shot him an irritable glare and nearly crashed into Stark who shouted at him to ‘watch it, Pete!’ He was small, leaner than most of the cops in here and had a boyish smile in his face, eager, like he was constantly searching for ways to prove himself.

Bucky sighed. “What is it, Parker?”

“Heard you had a late night and I’d like to offer to take Miss -- uh, sorry, I didn’t get your name?” he grimaced towards you with a blush in his cheeks.

“Y/L/n,” you replied, too keen to enjoy the kid’s fluster.

He cleared his voice, straightening his back. “I’d like to offer to escort Miss Y/L/n home.”

“That won’t be necessary, Parker, I’ve got it covered,” Bucky replied quickly, a little too quickly, as he started to lead you towards the door.

Parker jumped around to stand in Bucky’s way. When Bucky didn’t stop walking, Parker started moving backwards, pulling off his cap and twisting it nervously in his hands. You glanced between the kid and Bucky, a gleam of welcomed amusement you so desperately needed.

“Well, actually, sir, the thing is, --”

Bucky pulled to a stop and you along with him. “Spit it out, kid.”

“Captain Rogers kinda said that your overtime is killing the budget and you need to go home.”

“Great,” Bucky grunted. “I’ll go home after Y/n does.”

“Actually--”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Bucky threw his arms in the air, glaring over at the office across the bull pen. Behind the semi-open shades stood Captain Rogers, nursing a cup of coffee, as he eyed them from over the mug. Bucky let out an exasperated groan. “Fine! Okay, Rogers?” he shouted towards the office and the captain lifted his mug in acknowledgement. “Fine!”

Bucky sighed, turning to you. “You okay if this child takes you home? I can grab Wilson or maybe Nat if she’s around...”

You shook your head, smiling as you watched Parker celebrate as Bucky’s back was turned. He seemed like a sweet kid. You needed more of that in your life, especially after the night you had.

“I’m fine,” you reassured Bucky, noticing the frustration in his heavy breaths and tensed shoulders. “I bet he’s stronger than he looks. Could probably stop a train with his bare hands, huh?”

Parker nodded vigorously. Bucky rolled his eyes. He turned to the kid, grabbing a hold of his uniform collar.

“Take this seriously,” he warned, leaning in close enough the Parker stretched his neck away. “We’re keeping Y/n’s involvement between just a few of us here in the precinct. The media’s in the dark about this for now and we have to keep it that way. Hydra doesn't know there was a witness and I don’t want that changing, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” Parker replied firmly. The second Bucky pulled back, the kid’s smile widened enough to take up his whole face. “I’m Peter. You can come with me, Miss Y/L/n.”

“You can call me Y/n, you know?”

“Don’t bother,” Bucky rolled his eyes, though you could sense the amusement under it. “He’s got an authority complex. Can’t be informal if he tried.”

“Oh, I see,”

“You coming, Miss Y/l/n?” he called from the end of the precinct. How did he get that far so fast?

You nodded, turning quickly to Bucky. “Well, thanks. I guess I’ll see you around?”

“’Course, can’t forget about my key witness,” he grinned.

You smiled, quick to push aside the fluttering in your chest. You had started to walk away when you heard Bucky curse behind you, as if a realization clicked. He jogged back up to you, grabbing you gently by the elbow to pull you to a stop.

“You're not going back to the bar tonight, right?” he asked, concern in his eyes as he studied you.

You shrugged, pulling away from his grasp softly before you started walking again towards Peter. You hadn’t even considered not opening. “I gotta pay the bills, Bucky.”

“W-wait, hold on now--”

“I have to keep my electricity running and I’ll have customers wondering why I’m not opening,” you insisted. “You want to keep this quiet? I gotta show up. They’ll know something’s amiss if I don’t.”

“Let me assign protective detail at least,” Bucky countered, now walking backwards as you crossed half the length of the station to where Peter was waiting.

“Not necessary.”

“Y/n, you’re a witness to a hydra hit--”

“--which they know nothing about,” you finished, forcing out a tight smile. “You said that yourself. Can’t be in danger if they don’t know anyone even saw it happen.” You paused, only a few feet away from the young officer waiting eagerly by the door. “I’ll be fine. Plus, I have that business card of yours tucked away somewhere. I’ll call if I need to.”

Bucky released a heavy exhale, hands planted on his hips as he reluctantly watched you make your way out the door.

“You better.”

***

Officer Parker – or Peter as he insisted relentlessly you call him – had been the welcomed distraction you needed. He looked young for his age, like maybe he belonged in high school, but he swore he was fresh out the of academy and even showed you his badge to prove it. The kid didn’t stop talking for even a second as he drove you home, not even when he asked you questions. He’d paused, give you about two seconds to respond, before he was answering his own damn question and off on a new tangent. He was a sweet kid, one you didn’t mind having around one bit.

He had come up to your apartment, cautiously inspecting the locks and hinges, eyeing up and down the hallway for cameras that didn’t belong – said it was on Detective Barnes’ orders. You had smiled at that.

After Peter left, you had forced yourself to sleep, too exhausted to do much of anything else. When the sound of a car alarm woke you a few hours later, you tried to make busy around the apartment. You cleaned the kitchen, swept the floors, washed down the bathroom and did two loads of laundry and it was only two in the afternoon.

Unable to sit still in your dingy apartment any longer, you made your way down the street to your bar. You hadn’t been able to finish cleaning up shop the previous night for obvious reasons and you wanted to make sure nothing looking amiss by the time opening came around.

Barnes held true to his word that the media was in the dark about it – the shooting, Charlie’s murder, you as a witness, all of it – which meant that you’d find your regulars waltzing in like they usually do. The newspapers hadn’t gotten word of it at least, and you were sure to check a few of them yourself as you walked by the corner store.

Had to keep up appearances, pay the bills. It was what you were telling yourself anyway. Routine was essential to your survival. Sitting alone in that apartment all day and let your mind wander felt like a worse sentence than Hydra discovering you.

Hands tucked tightly in the pockets of your jacket, you slowed your pace down as you passed the alley next to the bar. You came to a stop and a man behind you had to skid out of your way at the last second, cursing and grumbling under his breath as he continued walking.

There was no crime scene tape up, no evidence markers or silly white chalk drawn in the pavement. No proof at all that anything had happened in this alley – that a man had died in this alley. There wasn’t even blood stained into the gravel. The rain had taken care of that.

Carefully, you made your way down the dark alley, glancing up at the light above the backdoor to the bar to discover it was now fully operational. You sighed and bent down to pick up the broom you had dropped the previous night. Unlocking the door, you stepped inside.

It was just as you left it. Not that it should be a surprise, but it felt like something should be different. You were different, you supposed.

You spent the next few hours tediously cleaning the floors, the bathrooms, restocking the shelves, and washing through the glasses twice. Couldn’t stand still for even a moment, you had even starting wiping down the walls when the bell rang out and the first two patrons strolled in.

“Smells like Lysol in here, Y/n,” the bigger of the two men, a guy called Vinny, grumbled as he pinched his nose. His twin brother Leonard swatted his shoulder, urging him to be nice. Vinny made a look of disgust before he gestured for his usual. You swung yourself around the bar, thankful to have some company as you held a glass under the tap. “I liked it better when this place smelled like stale beer.”

“Thanks, Vinny,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. Leonard apologized for his brother before leading him back to their usual spot. Odd pair, those two.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the crowd to gather. You didn’t have much of a free moment to think, and that was exactly what you were hoping for. Bustling around from one end of the bar to the other, grabbing empty glasses and refilling drinks. The clientele usually kept their orders simple – beer, hard liquor, occasionally thrown in with some coke. Every once in a while, you’d find a brave soul who’d ask for something frozen or colorful, topped with one of those little umbrellas you’d bought a pack of when you first reopened the bar years back and had used five since. They’d get shit for it, but the ones with the thickest skin would come back for more.

It was nearing nine when the bell rang. Most of your customers came in around six and didn’t leave until two in the morning at close. The stragglers in between were ones you didn’t usually recognize but not this one.

Bucky Barnes sauntered in, hands in his pockets and a shake of his head when he saw you standing behind the bar. “I thought I told you this was a bad idea.”

“And I thought I made it pretty clear I wasn’t gonna listen,” you said simply, handing Bernie his third glass of beer. You wiped your hands on your towel before reaching for Bucky’s usual choice. You set a short glass in front of him as he sat and began filling it. It was a heavy pour. He noticed.

“Which is why I assigned protective detail,” Bucky said he picked up the glass and took a sip. He was getting better about not wincing as it went down.

“I said no, Barnes! I can’t have cops running around this place, it’ll scare off my customers!”

“Relax, doll,” Bucky chuckled and you felt your heart skip at the nickname, “It’s just me. I’m the detail.”

You narrowed your eyes, swallowing back the butterflies in your stomach. “I thought Captain Rogers said you were working too much overtime.”

“What Steve doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Bucky shrugged. “Besides, the one-four ain’t got a say in what I do in my free time.”

You paused. “You’re off duty?”

“You think I’d be drinking if I wasn’t?”

“I’m just,” you ran your fingers through your hair in an attempt to hide the red forming in your cheeks, “surprised, I guess. Don’t know why you’d use your own time just to look out for me.”

“Who says that’s what I’m here for?” Bucky smirked. “Maybe I like my bourbon really shitty. Maybe I was getting used to being a bit of a regular in this joint and I’m stuck in my ways. It’s too late for me now.”

“Yeah maybe,” you laughed, folding your arms as you leaned against the bar.

Bucky took a sip from the glass, keeping your stare as he swirled the last remaining sip in the glass before he threw back that one, too. He paused. A shrug.

“Maybe I just like the bartender.”

“Don’t let Stark hear you say that,” you retorted quickly, pushing yourself off the bar and brushing away any sincerity you heard in his words as his typical banter. You reached for a clean glass as you saw Leonard coming up for the second round. “You’ll get in trouble for flirting with the witness again.”

Bucky nodded, smiling to himself as he watched you pull the handle for the tap. You were talking with Leonard, laughing softly as he pointed back to his brother across the room who was clearly whistling along to the Dolly Parton song that he had thrown on the jukebox.

You didn’t notice Bucky’s eyes on you. Under his breath, too quiet for you to hear, “I’ll take my chances.”

part 3

tags 🌻 @sweetheartbarnes / @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @lumar014 / @alohafromhell1 / @bucksandroses / @teardropcup / @beautiful-aravis / @me-chi / @somewereinthegalaxi / @marvelfansworld / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @yourwonderbelle / @fairislesheets / @brokeinflight

(strikethrough means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!)

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #reader insert #my writing #bucky fic #the witness

1K notes · View notes

mustangshelby04 · 5 years ago

Text

Boston Boy - Chapter 13

Kate and Chris followed the realtor around the two-story penthouse apartment. They were on the very edge of Tribeca with a great view of the Brooklyn Bridge. They had spent the last week looking at apartments. It had been three months since they had found out they were going to be parents. Chris had had to deal with some previous obligations, so their moving in together had been delayed some.

Scott spent a lot of time in New York, so he had been keeping Kate company. The press had gotten wind of Kate’s pregnancy. One of the nurses at the hospital in Florida had leaked the information to a local station. Then the twenty-four-hour news cycle had picked up the story while Kate and the Evans’ family were in the air flying to Virginia. By the time they landed, the whole world knew Chris Evans was going to be a dad. His family had been shocked, but excited.

Kate’s family, however, hadn’t been pleased. They were worried that their daughter hadn’t been in her relationship long enough and that she didn’t truly understand what she was taking on. Chris and Kate had spent a solid three hours with the serious grilling her parents had dished out. Chris had sworn (multiple times) that he was going to take care of Kate and their baby. In the end, they were still worried, but a little less so. The trip to Christmastown at Busch Gardens with both families together had been helpful assuaging the Allen’s fears some.

Since the news broke, the paparazzi had made it their mission to get as much as they could about Chris’s baby mama. Kate was almost constantly hounded for pictures and information. Her family was contacted on a regular basis. Even her biological father had been tracked down. That hadn’t gone over well with Kate. Especially since the man had tried to contact her. She had had a complete nervous breakdown over it which landed her in the hospital overnight. Lisa had come to be with Kate since she could get there faster than anyone. She had stayed with Kate until Chris had gotten there.

Kate had also been worried about everything affecting her new job, but Danielle had assured her not to worry about it. Chris gave her as much advice as possible. He had decided to ask Megan to help Kate out so she didn’t have to deal with the press hounding her. Kate was in almost constant contact with his publicist and had quickly become friends with her.

When Chris had finally come to New York to stay for a while, he and Kate had had their first true argument. He had lined up apartments to look at that were well out of her price point. She hadn’t found it fair that she couldn’t pay her half of the rent. After yelling at each other for over an hour and running April out of the apartment, they had finally come to a compromise that he would take care of the rent and she could pay the utilities. So, here they were, following the realtor around their fourth apartment in three days.

“This one has five bedrooms.” Lacy the realtor said. “The view of the Bridge from both of the terraces is just gorgeous! The kitchen has all the best, state of the art appliances.” She led them around the wall and into the living room. “And just look at that view from the great room!”

“It’s beautiful.” Kate said.

“The fireplace is fully functional. Gas, of course.”

“Of course.” “And this…. This is my favorite feature!” Lacy led them back around the wall into the kitchen and did her best Vanna White impression to show off the huge bookcase that framed the stairs. “I remember you mentioning having a lot of books, Kate. This would be perfect for you.”

“That’s pretty unique.” Chris said, admiring the bookshelf as they walked up the stairs.

“This apartment is unique. Each bedroom has its own bathroom. Even the guest bedroom on the first floor. The master bedroom is just grand! So much room! You have a walk-through closet with plenty of storage space. And there’s a bedroom right across the hall from the master.” Lacy’s eyes drifted to Kate’s baby bump. “Perfect for a nursery.” Kate rolled her eyes at Chris and he squeezed her hand. “The terrace is just up here.” Lacy led them up another flight of stairs and opened the doors to the private roof terrace. “It’s so cozy, yet so open.”

“And it has a hot tub.” Kate said.

“That’ll be your best friend after you give birth. Trust me.” Chris squeezed Kate’s hand again to keep her from snapping at the woman. “You’ll need that escape for some mommy/daddy time. So, what do you guys think?”

Chris looked at Kate. “I love the view.”

“It’s beautiful.” Kate agreed, heading back inside and down to the master bedroom.

“I’ll give you two a minute to talk.” Lacy walked out of the room.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Chris asked as she explored the walk-through closet, opening and closing the closet doors. “This place is great. It has plenty of bedrooms for when our families come to visit. There’s that huge terrace with grass for the dogs on the first floor. That kitchen is exactly the one you were hoping for. That cool built-in bookshelf by the stairs is amazing.” He took her hand and led her to the room across from the master bedroom. “And she may be sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong, but she’s right about this room being perfect for the nursery.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and placed his hands on her bump. “I can just picture the crib right there and your glider right there….”

“It’s a lot of money.” Kate said. “Hey, we talked about this. You’re not supposed to worry about that.”

“I know. I know! I just feel so guilty….”

Chris shook his head and turned her around to face him. “No guilt. Ok? My little family here deserves the best and if I can provide that for you guys, I will.” Kate beamed up at him. “What?”

“You called me your family.”

He shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile. “Well, yeah. You and Jelly Bean…. You’re my family.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to know if Jelly Bean is watermelon pink or blueberry blue?”

Chris laughed. “I’m sure.” He kissed her quickly. “So, what about this place?”

“Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His face broke out into a huge grin and he pulled her to him. They both laughed as he lifted her up into his arms and carried her out of the bedroom. Lacy was waiting in the kitchen, scrolling through her tablet. “We’ll take it.” They both announced.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Scott and Kate stood side by side watching the movers maneuver the couch into place while Gally and Dodger checked the new place out. Chris had gotten Dodger while in Savannah filming and Kate had instantly taken to the sweet dog. Dodger had been staying with her in New York while Chris had been gone. Poor Gally had been annoyed at having to move, then having to put up with a new dog, and then having to move again. Dodger had been good for the older dog, though. He got Gally to move around and explore. He was also super protective of Kate. He had quickly figured out that she was pregnant and had taken it upon himself to be her protector. Sometimes he wouldn’t even let Chris near her.

The movers looked over for approval and Scott directed them to adjust the couch slightly to the right. This had been the routine all day. The living room was the last of the rooms to get furnished. Kate and Chris had gone to Ikea (at her insistence) to furnish the apartment. Scott had tagged along and helped pick out the furniture. He had even helped design the closet of Kate’s dreams.

April walked into the kitchen with a large box and set it on the counter. “That’s the last box.” She announced before turning to look out the windows. “Man, this place is awesome and I am super jealous.”

“It’s not like you won’t be making use of one of those guest rooms as often as possible.” Kate joked.

“Of course, I will! At least until the baby gets here. Then I’ll just skip the screaming-through-the-night thing.”

“That’s cheating.”

“That’s life. Do you want help unpacking your pots and pans?” “I haven’t even figured out where everything should go, yet.”

“So, that’s a no?”

“For now.”

“Breather?” Scott asked, gesturing at the newly set up living room. “Sounds heavenly.” Kate followed Scott and April and took a seat on one of the recliners. “When does Chris get back?” April asked. “Tonight.”

“Of course, he missed the moving in part.” Scott joked. “Leaves all the heavy lifting to the girls.”

“Not very Captain America of him.” April laughed.

“Oh, he’s not getting entirely out of it.” Kate assured them. “I’ll make sure to leave some boxes for him to unpack.”

“Don’t lift anything heavy.” Scott warned. “You know you’re not supposed to.”

“Hence the leaving stuff for your brother to do.” Kate sighed and rubbed her bump. “You know that sneaky bastard actually bought this place?”

“Really?” April asked.

“Yes. He didn’t tell me until afterwards. Now he wants to negotiate helping pay the bills.”

“Kitty Kat, you should just let him.” Scott said. “My brother likes to take care of the ones he cares about the most. I think you kind of trump the whole family now.”

Kate laughed. “I doubt that. I could never trump y’all’s mom.”

“Ok, that’s true. But seriously, don’t stress yourself out over money. I know you like to be all Miss Independent, but just let him win that battle. You’ll both feel better for it in the long run.”

“He’s not your sugar daddy.” April said. “He’s your partner. Let him be your partner.” Kate sighed. “Fine.” She pushed gently on her stomach and rolled her eyes when she felt the funny bubbles speed up. “This one is having a dance party.”

“Can I join in?” Chris asked from the entryway. Kate turned to see her boyfriend standing there with a grin on his face, petting the dogs as they competed for his affection. “I left early because I hated leaving you to move in to our place without me. Oh! Don’t get up!” He rushed over to kneel down and kiss Kate before she could move any further.

“Hi,” She breathed, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

“Hi.”

“And on that note,” April stood up. “I’m heading out.”

“You don’t have to go.” Kate insisted.

“I do. I’ve got a deadline tomorrow and I’ve still got some things to finish for it.” She blew Kate a kiss. “I’ll call you later, lovebug.”

Chris squeezed in next to Kate and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she put her legs over his. “The place is looking good.”

“Thank Scott. If there’s anything you want to move, just move it.” Kate said. “I’m not stuck on the floorplan.”

“I am!” Scott said, offended. “I worked hard telling those movers where everything needed to go.”

Chris laughed. “I think it looks great. We’ll leave it the way it is.” He leaned in and stage whispered to Kate, “For now.”

Scott threw a pillow at his brother. “That’s it. I’m leaving, too.”

“Oh, stay!” Kate protested.

“Nope. I’m giving you two time together. But don’t think you’re getting out of baby shower planning.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Can’t you just give me presents without the fanfare and the corny games?”

“Hell no! My sisters, my mother, April, and I have plans. The Evans family has been waiting a long time for this.” He clapped Chris on the shoulder and kissed Kate’s cheek before walking out.

Chris looked at Kate, running his fingers across her temple and through her hair. “Hi.”

She pulled him to her and kissed him deeply. “Stop leaving me.”

“I promise you’re coming with me for the next trip.”

“Which is the Civil War premiere?”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure you want me to go?”

“Are you kidding? Of course, I want you to go!” “It’s just…. We haven’t really done anything in the public eye and I know you’re private and….” She trailed off when she noticed his patient smile.

“Babe, it’s not like the world doesn’t know who you are. But even if they didn’t, I want you there with me anyway. I want to show you LA and I want you to be a part of my life. All of my life.”

Kate sighed. “There’s also another factor that makes me nervous.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll be escorting a whale around.”

“Shut up. You’re not a whale.” Chris put his hand on her swollen belly. “You’re absolutely gorgeous and the doctor says that you’re actually not gaining as much weight as you should be.”

“I know. I’m losing it. My mom says she did the same thing with me and my sister.”

He smiled at her. “So Jelly Bean is really moving around in there, huh?”

“You can’t feel it?” Chris shook his head. “You will eventually. Right now there’s a party going on in my uterus. Pretty sure Jelly Bean got a DJ for it.”

Chris laughed and leaned down to speak to her stomach. “Hey, kiddo, keep it down in there. Mommy needs some rest.”

“I think he or she is excited by all the moving around I’ve been doing today.”

“Then we probably should just be very still and not add to it….” Chris started to pull away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Shut up and take me to bed.” Kate said. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Chris leaned down and swept her up into his arms. She squealed and laughed before begging Chris to put her down. He relented at the stairs and followed her up, both of them stripping their clothes off as fast as possible.

When they got to their bedroom, Chris was happy to find that Kate had already gotten the bed set up and he pulled her to him as he sat down on the mattress. She stood in front of him in just her underwear and he placed his hands on her bump. He leaned forward and kissed a trail from one side to the other. Kate reached down and lifted his face to her.

“You are so beautiful.” Chris whispered against her lips.

She pressed her lips against his and climbed on top of him. He held her against him as he worked to get her bra off. Her breasts, which had already been voluptuous, had filled out some and he brought one of her nipples into his mouth. She groaned, eyes fluttering, as she ground down on his growing erection. Her nerve endings were much more sensitive these days and pregnancy sex was mind blowing.

Chris switched to her other breast as he palmed the globes of her ass. Her head fell back and her nails raked through his hair. His fingers dipped into the front of her panties and he groaned. “So wet.”

“No more foreplay.” Kate growled. She stood up and got rid of her underwear before yanking his off. Chris fell back onto the bed and Kate climbed on top of him. He let out a guttural sound as she sunk down on him. She began to rock on top of him and he grabbed her hips to help her keep her balance. Curses and moans fell from their lips as she rode him fast and hard. He sat up suddenly and turned them, popping out of her. She got on all fours and he took her from behind. She let out a yell as he entered her again at the same time he flicked her clit harshly. There were no sheets on the bed for her to grab, so her fingers dug into the mattress as she grasped for something to hold onto.

“Fuck.” Chris cried.

“Chris, harder.” Kate begged.

“I don’t want to hurt the baby.” “You won’t!”

“But….”

“Baby, please! I’m almost there.”

Chris growled and started to pound into her, still holding back some. He shuddered as he felt his balls tighten just before he spilled into her. A moment later, her orgasm hit her and her walls clamped down on him. He fell forward, his chest against her back. They stayed still as their bodies shuddered and began to recover from powerful finishes. After a long moment, Chris pulled out of her and they both collapsed to the bed.

When Chris finally found his voice again, he looked over at Kate. “Are you ok?”

“Are you going to ask me that every time we have sex?”

He chuckled. “Probably.”

Kate reached out and placed her hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb against his beard. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Good.” He kissed her palm. “So, are you ready for this?”

Her eyes widened. “You’re ready to go again?”

Chris let out his loud, energetic laugh. “Fuck no! I meant are you ready to live with me?”

Kate laughed. “Yeah. I think so. This experience can’t be worse than the last one, right?”

“Was the last one Asshole McGhee?”

“Yes.”

“Oh yeah.” Chris nodded. “This will be a piece of cake compared to that.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Kate grumbled to herself as she put the dishes in the dishwasher. For the third night in a row, Chris had left the dinner dishes in the sink. They had been moved in and living together for three weeks now. Learning the other’s ways was a chore.

Kate hated leaving messes in the kitchen. Chris didn’t mind leaving the mess until the next day.

Kate did her laundry the way her mother had taught her by separating everything out. Chris just threw everything in the washer at once.

Kate used coasters to keep from having to clean rings off of surfaces. Chris had apparently never heard of coasters.

Kate kept things well stocked. Chris would drink out of the carton or pitcher and put it back with only a tiny amount left in the bottom.

“He’s been a bachelor for so long, I think he’s forgotten his manners.” Kate muttered.

She wasn’t a complete domestic angel, though.

Loose hair had always made her sick to her stomach, so she never cleaned out her brushes or the shower drain. Chris had had to clean the drain out once already and it was starting to pile up again. She also took up a whole side of the shower with her bath products. It amazed him how many shampoos, conditioners, body washes, face washes, and shaving creams one woman could have. And that didn’t even cover the hair products and hair tools she used! Those took up a whole cabinet of the vanity. Her makeup took up all four drawers on her side of the bathroom vanity. She also had feminine products taking up one drawer on his side of the vanity. Every time he stepped foot in their bathroom, he wondered where the hell she had kept all of it in her garage apartment.

“Hey, babe!” Chris called from the living room. “Come watch a movie with me.”

“Not right now.”

“Please?”

“I’m busy right now.” She lowered her voice. “Doing the dishes again.”

Her boyfriend walked into the kitchen and leaned on the counter. “Finish the dishes tomorrow. I promise it’ll be worth your while tonight.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she rolled her eyes.

“You are literally a horny frat boy.”

He scrunched his face up in confusion. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I’m still debating. Why don’t you help me finish the dishes? Then I can come watch a movie.”

“Ok.” Chris sighed and pretended to roll his sleeves up. He completely missed that she was slightly annoyed with him. Once they were finished, she leaned against the counter for a moment and rubbed her belly. Chris watched her with a concerned look. “You ok?”

“Yeah. Just…. Ate too much and Jelly Bean is protesting the smaller space.” She gave him a small smile. “I’m going to go put on some PJs and then we can watch a movie.”

“Ok.” He leaned down and kissed her gently. “I’ll get the movie ready. Will you grab me a pair of sweats while you’re up there?”

“Sure.” She mounted the stairs and took them slowly. After changing into a pair of yoga pants and a big sweater, she threw her hair up into a high ponytail and grabbed a pair of Chris’ sweatpants. He was taking his clothes off as she came back downstairs and tossing them in a pile next to the couch. “Are we watching a movie or making a porno?”

Chris laughed loudly and shook his head. “Well, I was planning to watch a movie, but if you’re interested….”

“I most distinctly am not. That’s the last thing we need is a sex tape of us floating around out there.” She tossed him his pants. “Did you make popcorn?”

“We just ate.”

Kate blinked at him for a moment and then gestured at her belly. “I have no control over what this one craves. Start the movie and I’ll make some popcorn.”

“I can make it.”

She waved him away. “I’ve got it. Just start the movie.” Kate walked into the kitchen and opened one of the cabinets to pull out some popcorn. She tossed it into the microwave and watched it turn around and around. By the time she was finished, the movie had already started. She narrowed her eyes at it. “What is this?”

“That movie you said you wanted to watch.” Chris said, taking a handful of popcorn as she sat down.

“This doesn’t look like a movie I want to watch.”

“Yeah. It’s 28 Days Later.”

“Huh?”

“You said you liked it.”

“I never said I liked 28 Days Later. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve told you I don’t do scary movies.”

“I know. I thought it was weird that you wanted to watch this, but….”

“I don’t want to watch this!”

“You said you did!”

“I said 28 Days, Chris! I wanted to watch 28 Days! The Sandra Bullock movie!” She looked at the TV where zombies were starting to attack. “Fuck! Turn it off!”

“It’s just a movie, babe.” She surged to her feet and walked out. “Kat!” Kate slammed the popcorn bowl down on the kitchen counter and marched up the stairs. Chris turned the movie off and followed her. “Hey, stop!”

“No.”

“What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t want to watch a horror movie. Especially a zombie one!”

“Ok. We won’t watch it.”

“Nope, we won’t because I’m going to bed.”

“Ok. What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been edgy with me all night.”

“Yes I have. Glad you finally noticed!”

“If you have something to say, then say it.”

“I don’t like the way you do things.”

“What?”

“You’re such a frat boy and I’m done debating about it. I don’t like this Chris!”

“Babe….”

“Don’t babe me. You never do the dishes.”

“I helped you do them tonight.”

“Because I asked you to. I have to ask you to help with them! You always just leave them in the sink and don’t rinse them or soak them or anything. That shit just gets caked on there and makes it harder to clean! It takes five minutes to rinse them and put them in the dishwasher! And you’re messy! I feel like I’m always cleaning up after you. I’ll have to go clean up your clothes in the living room!”

“I….”

“And what the fuck is up with you putting empty shit back in the fridge? Why can’t you just throw it away and add it to the grocery list? Why is that so hard for you? It’s common fucking courtesy.”

“Well, you’re no fucking picnic either!”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re so god damn OCD about every little thing! Lighten up!”

“I’m sorry if I like things clean and orderly, Chris! I didn’t know that would be such an issue! And don’t tell me to fucking lighten up! You lighten up!”

“And how hard is it to clean the shower drain? It’s just some wet hair!”

“It makes me physically ill to even think about loose hair! And with the amount of throwing up I’ve been doing carrying your kid, sorry if I don’t want to add any more to it!”

“I didn’t ask you to carry my kid!” Kate’s eyes widened in shock and she slammed the bathroom door in his face, locking it tight. “Fuck!” Chris knew as soon as the words had left his mouth that he’d pushed it way too far. He hadn’t meant to get so angry and he really hadn’t meant what he’d just said. “Kat, I’m sorry!”

“Go away!”

“Please open the door.” “No!”

“Please, Kat. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He sat down on the floor and leaned his back against the door, banging his head against it once in frustration as the tears fell down his cheeks.

Kate sat down on the edge of the bathtub and cried into her hands. She hadn’t meant to snap at Chris. She had been frustrated with him and then before she knew what was happening, she had exploded. She had meant to be rational when she was ready to talk about her issues with him, but hormones had gotten the best of her. Things had escalated too quickly.

“Baby, please open the door.” Chris said. His voice sounded horse and it cracked with emotion. “Please?”

“Why?”

“I didn’t mean it, Kat. I really didn’t. It was a stupid fucking thing to say and I didn’t mean it.”

Kate sighed and opened the door. Chris hadn’t been expecting it and fell backwards. He winced as his head bounced off the tile. “Oh!”

“Ow.” He looked up at her and chuckled. “Guess I deserved that.”

“A little bit.” She reached out to help him to his feet. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“I shouldn’t have let it escalate like it did.” He pulled her to him. “I just love you so much and….” “What?”

“What?”

“You….”

“Oh.” Chris pulled away slightly to look down at her. “I said it.”

“Yeah.”

He grinned. “Felt kinda good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You mean it?”

“From the moment I met you, it’s been on the tip of my tongue. It felt really good to finally say it out loud.”

“You’re not just saying it to get out of trouble?”

“Hell no. I mean every syllable.”

“Good. Cause, you know, well…. I do, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to actually say it?”

“Maybe. Maybe I need some incentive.”

“Like….” He leaned down and kissed the spot on her neck just below her ear. “This?”

“Mmm….”

“Or this….” Chris moved his lips further down her neck, lightly biting her collarbone. “Closer.”

“How about this?” He reached up and gently held the sides of her face, taking a moment to look into her blue-green eyes. “I love you, Kat.”

“I love you, too, Chris.” She reached out and pulled him closer. He brought his lips to hers and her insides melted.

After a long, breathless moment, Chris placed his forehead against hers. “I’m so sorry, Kat. We need to start talking more openly instead of tiptoeing around each other.”

“I know.”

“Can we promise not to let our issues build and build till we explode again?”

“Well, I can try. Honestly, my hormones got me there and I overreacted. Once everything passed, I realized how stupid we sounded.”

Chris chuckled. “I’ll give you a pass for hormones.”

“Fair warning: I’m gonna use the hell out of it.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, rubbing his hand against her belly. “I’m happy you’re the one that’s carrying my kid. I can’t wait to meet our little Jelly Bean.”

Kate smiled against his lips. “Take me to bed, soldier. There’s makeup sex to be had.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Chris lifted her into his arms and carried her through the closet and back into the bedroom.

Tag List

@joannaliceevans-fanficblog

@jamielea81

@southerngracela

@kelbabyblue

@tfandtws

@southerngracela

@lovinevans

@ajosieface

@introvertedmouse

@sullyosully

@deidrashouseofpain

#Chris Evans #Kate Allen O/C #Chris Evans/Kate Allen #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #Boston Boy

27 notes · View notes

plttwrld · 5 years ago

Text

— tohru’s dependents

characters. arom kunthong, matsuoka tohru, suh jules, shin yeji

genre. slice of life, crack

warnings. cursing, not proofread

about. tohru is, most certainly, not being paid enough for putting up with her members

“that’s it. i’ve had enough,” with a solemn gesture, and her will to live nowhere to be seen, arrow primly places her pencil between the pages of her notebook and pushes it with the tip of her fingers, as if she was dealing with some sort of highly contagious and inminent plague. “it was a fun ride with you guys but i’m quitting school.”

"you won’t be doing such thing, arrow,” tohru, who doesn’t even bother into taking her eyes off her own textbook, slowly slides arrow’s notebook right back to her. “now stop your tomfoolery and get over with the dang essay, jesus.”

“i’m going to die.”

and she procceds to plop over the small table and break down in what seems to be a sorrowful keyboard smash. almost automatically, tohru rolls her eyes.

"give her a break, unnie,” after having to remain silent for longer than she’s used to, yeji decides she can allow herself to disregard her own homework for a second and stick her nose into arrow and tohru’s bussiness, an absolute shit-eating grin drawn all over her pretty face. “she has way too much on her plate for her only braincell to handle.”

“i mean,” of course, jules has to butt in as well. “arrow unnie can barely read or write in thailand, i don’t know what makes you think she can do a 3 pages essay in korean.”

yeji can’t stifle a cackle, and when jules mindlessly raises a hand, she inmediatly highfives back. fucking brats.

“oh my god why you guys only get along when it comes to shit on me?” arrow, presumably over with her mental breakdown, now gasps dramatically with a hand above her chest. “it is that people’s suffering is the only way to bring you two closer?”

“okay, close is an overstatement,” jules points out, criptidly. “we’re just having fun at your expense.”

however, and for whatever reason, yeji’s gaze softens when her eyes meet jules’ and then places a hand over her shoulders, perhaps too fondly, before regarding to arrow. “she’s shy.”

“fuck off.”

it’s so in character of them, tohru can almost bask onto the homeliness of the situation. arrow whining and purposely being the comedic relief character she’s asigned herself to be in order to shy reality away and consequently the essay she procrastinated throughout the whole week, yeji and jules picking on her negative count of braincells at best and aiming for each other’s throats at worst, and tohru parenting on the three of them, as the designated mom friend and braincell-holder she was. it’s too easy, tohru muses, to fall back into routine... but duty calls, and homework wasn’t getting anywhere near to be finished, as far as she was concerned.

“ok, you two, enough with the bullying,” tohru chides, vehemently tapping her own pen to the table. “go back to your... what on earth are you doing?”

the youngests raise their brows (in a conspicuos, perfect sync), yet they don’t falter to exchange their exercise sheets with each other.

“uh, copying answers?” jules makes it sounds like she just asked the most idiotic thing ever.

“i did the first three pages and jules did the other three remaining.” yeji explains on their behalf. “it’s a strategic move. teamwork makes dreamwork... don’t give me that look, unnie. my pride is bruised enough for having to rely on jules, don’t do this to me.”

but tohru knows better, and just opts to let her disgust be known with a morose, prolongued sigh before burying her head back into her own books. she doesn’t fails to notice arrow growing impatient in her seat, though.

“toohru...”

“no.”

“i didn’t even say anything!”

“you need to do the essay, arrow, and that’s non-negotiable,” tohru condemns.

“but korean is too hard!" please, tohru knows how fucked up korean is. hangul wasn’t giving her the kindest time, either. “and i’m too dumb! maybe if i just... don’t...”

“you’ve pulled that stunt so many times already, arrow,” tohru doesn’t caves in. just for whose sake she’s being so unreleting, to begin with? “and you can’t afford you grades getting any lower than this.”

“damn, you really be calling me and my low ass gpa like that, huh...” unavoidably, arrow pouts. “i don’t even know what’s the big deal. i’m going to be your personal freeloader once we graduate, anyways.”

tohru blinks, and there’s a crack on her deadpan that lasts half of a second, “i... i fail to remember when we agreed to that.”

“weren’t you goint to marry me and give me belly rubs for the rest of our lifes?”

“that is, most likely, not happening—”

“wait, so now we’re living off tohru unnie like roaches?” yeji suddenly seems interested in the conversation. “i like the plan.”

“why are you guys suddenly into the ‘plan’?” tohru is not even sure where the whole thing is heading. and to be honest? she was past to care.

“look, i’m just saying that if you’re paying for arrow’s taxes then you’re paying for all our taxes,” yeji states, so matter of factly it makes tohru rolls her eyes for what feels like the millionth time. “we’re together in this shit for life, unnie.”

“oh my god,” jules snorts. “you guys are just not coaxing tohru unnie into being your sugar mommy, are you?”

tohru’s face finally breaks into utter indignation, while yeji and arrow seem to be bubbling with excitement.

“s-spare bank account?”

god, they’re the actual worst. “next person putting ‘sugar mommy’ and my name in the same sentence is getting hydrofluoric acid in their dinner.”

any hint of a conversation dies from that point on. at the end of the day, tohru found herself forced to assist arrow with the damn essay.

10 notes · View notes

averagemarvelbitch · 6 years ago

Text

Undercover Love / STONY

Summary: The hospital bills keep on coming and Steve doesn’t know how to help his mother. He decides the army is his best bet. Destiny has a different idea, though, and puts Dr. Erskine and Project Rebirth on his path. Soon, he becomes Captain America and a special forces SHIELD agent with a dream team, ready to take on even the most dangerous missions.

A few years later, Director Carter’s nephew is kidnapped by the Ten Rings and it’s Captain America and the Avengers to the rescue! Falling in love with said nephew wasn’t on Steve’s plans, but he isn’t complaining.

Director Carter might complain. If she ever finds out.

TAGS: Secret Agents AU / Stony / Alternate Universe

Chapters: 4/?

Read on AO3

---

Margaret Carter was proud to say that she had lived a very eventful and interesting life. She had become an agent of the Strategic Scientific Reserve in a time when woman were relegated to answering phones and taking messages, quickly proving her worth in every field mission and soon rising to become one of the most prominent agents in the history of said agency. Then, when the SSR ended, she joined her old friend, Howard Stark, and founded the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistic Division, also known as SHIELD, a peacekeeping organization whose primary goal was making the world a better place and fighting those who sought to destroy it. She had worked hard and relentlessly all her life, always focused on her work as the Director of SHIELD, making no time for love or romance. Margaret had never much cared about such things, had never really dreamed of a white picket fence with a lovely wife and a couple of children playing in the yard, not even when her darling Angie had been alive, God bless her soul. She simply did not have the time or the inclination to love and care for a child as a mother should. And she wholeheartedly believed that until the day Anthony Stark had been born.

Anthony had arrived on a Thursday, in the middle of one of the worst thunderstorms Malibu had seen in years. Peggy had arrived a few hours after the birth, absolutely soaking wet despite the umbrella poor Jarvis held for her all the way to the door.

“By God, Howard, how you can live in this godforsaken place is frankly beyond me”, she had complained, taking her shoes off at the door and graciously accepting a towel from Jarvis.

“Trust me, Peg, you’ll change your mind once the sun comes up and you see the beautiful view of the beach. There’s nothing like it”, Howard replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek with a smile that could light up an entire room.

“I doubt it. Now, where is my godson?”

During her pregnancy, Maria Stark had fallen victim to the newest tendency amongst the rich socialites of California: the all natural birth. She had insisted that little Anthony should be born in their home, surrounded by his loved ones as opposed to a hospital full of loud machines and strangers. She had nearly driven her husband insane with worry and, despite his very passionate speeches about her safety as well as the baby’s, she’d had the final word on the matter. And so, Anthony had been born in the mansion’s master bedroom, with the help of a very competent midwife and under Anna Jarvis’ watchful eye. Margaret heard the unhappy wails of the baby before she and Howard had even entered the room. The ever proper Maria held the baby awkwardly in her arms, looking nothing like the very composed socialite Margaret knew her to be, her eyes dropping lightly most likely from the tiredness brought by the very difficult birth.

“Would you like to hold him?” Maria asked in greeting as soon as her tired eyes landed on Margaret, carefully lifting the small, blue bundle in her arms in the brunette’s direction. She accepted the baby, cradling his head as she raised him closer to her own face.

“Hello, my darling Anthony. I’m your aunt Peggy”, she whispered softly to the baby, whose wails soon turned to quiet whimpers as he watched the beautiful woman with his big, brown eyes, “I’m the one you come to when your father is being terribly stupid. You’ll notice it tends to happen with surprising frequency”, she explained to the newborn baby, earning a faint laugh from Maria and a very annoyed hey from Howard himself. Margaret, however, heard none of it, too enthralled by the baby in her arms to pay attention to anything else. I will always be here, my dear, she promised him quietly with a kind smile, for whatever you may need.

Throughout the years, Margaret kept her promise. She was there for every birthday, every Christmas and every Easter. She taught her little boy how to behave like a proper gentleman and how to make proper tea.

“This tea is hot”, a very young Tony complained, grimacing as he swallowed the sweet liquid.

“Well, of course it’s hot, my darling. It’s tea. Tea is hot”, Margaret calmly explained, taking a sip from her own cup.

“Mommy and daddy always drink cold tea, it’s called iced tea. It’s really good!”

“That is not tea, dearest. That is filthy water with sugar. This”, she said, gesturing to their cups, “is tea. I’m surprised Mr. Jarvis hasn’t taught you that”.

Tony shrugged, taking another big gulp from his cup, “He always makes a funny face when mommy and daddy drink it, though”.

She smiled. “I’ll bet he does”.

She also taught him how to stand up for himself and, of course, how to throw a proper punch, a lesson that had gotten both of them in a lot of trouble when Tony came back from school with a purple eye and a proud smile and an exasperated Jarvis right behind him, waving a paper in which she could swear she read the word suspension. She took him to zoos, and picnics, and parks. She told him stories about secret spies who fought for a better world and fell in love with sassy waitresses. She spent hours on the phone, listening as the young boy recounted his day and shared with her everything that had happened. They were inseparable, even when separated by thousands of miles, and Margaret loved the boy more than she’d ever loved anything or anyone in her entire life, including her darling Angie, which was why, when that fateful call came, she dropped everything (including a very important meeting with the Minister of Defense) and went straight to Malibu, a whole new level of anger burning inside her chest all the way there.

It had been a Wednesday and a very busy day when the call came. She had been so focused on her conversation with Agent Fury that she’d almost missed the call. She quickly answered the phone, apologizing to the young agent for the interruption while assuring him it was too important a call to miss, and almost passed out with worry when she heard her darling boy sobbing on the other end of the like.

“Tony? Tony, my darling, what’s the matter?”

“Can you come pick me up? Please, aunt Peggy? I wanna leave”, he begged between sobs.

“My darling, what’s happening? Are you hurt?”

“Daddy is angry with me and he’s scary and Jarvis is not here, please, Aunt Peggy?”

Margaret was already on her feet, telling Fury to secure her a jet right that moment while trying to calm her godson down at the same time.

“Where are you right now, dearest?”

“I’m in my room. Please, please, will you come here, please?” the child begged once more, sniffling.

“I’m on my way, my dear. I’ll be there as soon as possible, you hear me? You stay in your room, alright?”

She called Jarvis as soon as Tony hung up, desperately trying to reach the butler who did not pick up the phone. She would later find out that Jarvis was busy receiving the most disturbing news in the hospital, being held by his crying wife as the doctor explained his chances of survival. In that moment, however, she couldn’t help but curse the butler as she sat on the plane, worried sick about her darling boy who had sounded so terrified over the phone. She arrived at Malibu a few hours later, taking a cab to the mansion. Margaret wasn’t stupid. Howard and she had been friends for many years, a friendship that had started based on their mutual desire to prove their worth in a world that constantly told them they were not enough. She knew the man’s qualities and she knew his flaws. On her last visits, she had noticed how there was always a glass of scotch attached to Howard’s hand, how fast he lost his inhibition, slurring his words as he talked about lost hope and business difficulties. But, most of all, she had noticed how his eyes always seemed to narrow every time he turned his attention to Anthony.

Margaret entered the mansion without as much as a greeting to whoever had opened the door, marching purposefully up the stairs and straight to her godson’s bedroom. From the end of the corridor, she saw Howard banging his hand on the door of said bedroom, screaming obscenities, a bottle of scotch securely on his hand. He barely had time to turn his head towards the sound of clacking high heels on the wooden floor before he felt his nose break under Margaret’s fist. Howard fell backwards like a sack of potatoes and did not move anymore. The maid standing behind him screamed, hands on each side of her face, eyes wide in terror.

“That is quite enough of screaming, thank you very much”, Margaret reprehended the women, who kept staring at her like she had just grown another head, “Take Howard to his bedroom and make sure to leave some aspirin by his bedside, I’m sure he’ll need it later”.

She knocked softly on the door. “Anthony? Everything is alright now, my darling. Open the door”.

She heard the lock turning and gasped when the door opened, revealing her little boy. Anthony had a very red mark the size of a hand in his right cheek and the skin around his right eye was slowly turning purple. Margaret wanted to scream. She wanted to march into Howard’s bedroom and tear him limb by limb. She wanted to take Anthony away from that house and keep him safe and sound. Instead, she did the only thing she could do. She scooped the young boy in her arms, whispering soothing words in his ear as he cried, scared and confused as to why his father, the man who was supposed to love and protect him, would cause him such suffering. Margaret stayed there the whole afternoon, holding the little boy in her arms until Jarvis arrived. He had heard from the maid what had transpired in his absence and went straight for the little boy’s room, quickly taking him from his godmother’s arms, apologizing to his young sir for not being there when he had needed him most. His words were calm and soothing, but Margaret could see the anger burning in his eyes. It was good to know she wasn’t the only one enraged by what had happened.

Later that night, she and Howard talked. She shouted at him, her anger getting the best of her, even going as far as threatening to take Anthony away from them. And that was when everything changed. Howard stood up from his chair, a cold expression in his face as he informed Margaret that, should she try such thing, he would have no problem exposing her preferences to the public. She knew exactly what he meant, although it was hard to believe a man she had once called friend would use such thing against her. It would bring me no pleasure, Peggy, he had said in a firm tone, but I’d do it. That boy will carry my legacy and you will not take him from me, you hear me? And so, that day, Margaret and Howard’s friendship had ended. The Director of SHIELD knew she stood no chance. The world wasn’t yet ready to embrace the love between two women and should word of her love life get out, Margaret would lose everything she had fought for her entire life, including access to her darling Anthony. That day, Howard promised to never again lay a hand on the boy, but she knew that wasn’t enough. She could see the man her friend had become; his cold eyes said it all. She knew there would be other forms of abuse and she would have to watch, helpless, as this shell of a once great man destroyed her darling boy’s spirits, unable to protect him from it. That day, Margaret’s heart broke in a thousand pieces, never to be fixed again.

And so the years had passed as she watched the abused bestowed upon her godson. Anthony, however, never once lost his natural glow. He stood his ground, staring at his father in defiance, never once wavering. Margaret could not be more proud of her darling boy. But as Anthony grew, his sense of self worth diminished. He thought of himself as unlovable. After all, if his own parents did not care for him, then how could anyone else? And no matter what Margaret or Jarvis or Ana did, they could not convince the young boy that he was loved and it broke their hearts a little bit more every day. As time went by, Jarvis passed away, Anna soon following him. Anthony was sent to a boarding school, where he spent every holiday season alone. At first, he would call his godmother every day. After a while, the calls became rarer and rarer until one day they simply stopped coming. And Margaret wept, unable to do anything but watch her boy from afar. She sent him cards and gifts for him birthday and Christmas. She called frequently, although Anthony rarely answered. She had expressed just how proud she was of him when he joined MIT at fifteen and stood there in the middle of the crowd, applauding him when he received his diploma, his parents nowhere to be found. She was there to hold his hand as people from all around the country paid their respects to Maria and Howard Stark. What a privilege it must have been to be raised by such incredible people, they would say and Anthony would nod, trying so very hard to hold the tears that threatened to fall from his big, brown eyes. Despite her best efforts, Margaret was unable to shield her darling boy of the horribleness of the world and she hated herself for it.

---

Margaret was walking from one side to the other, the clack of her high heels hitting the cold floor echoing through the empty corridor.

“They are late”, she complained, her English accent much more accentuated, as it usually happened when she was angry or nervous.

Before Agent Hill could answer, the doors on the far side of the corridor opened to reveal a very dirty Anthony on a wheelchair, followed closely by his Lieutenant friend and the Captain himself. Margaret quickly walked towards her godson, kissing his bandaged forehead carefully.

“My darling boy, you are the reason half my hair has gone white”, she said with a smile and tears in her eyes. Anthony smiled back at her.

“Sorry, auntie. Oh, and, next time, please send a better team? I had to do all the work myself”, he complained halfheartedly.

Margaret shook her head with a quiet laugh, kissing his forehead once more before letting Rhodes take him to the bedroom, “I’ll be with you in a minute, Anthony”, she promised, watching both man disappear into the corridor before turning to Steve, a very serious expression in her face, “I received your report, Captain. It seems we’ve both come to the same conclusions”.

“The Lieutenant Colonel was the one who brought it up, ma’am. But he doesn’t believe the leak came from the soldiers or anyone in the Air Base”.

“I agree. The Ten Rings were too well informed. I believe someone very powerful paid them to eliminate my godson. I have my suspicions, but I can’t be certain”, she said with a thoughtful expression, glancing to the room where Anthony and Rhodes were, “Did Anthony see your faces?”

“No, ma’am. The Winter Soldier, Hawkeye and I remained with our faces covered the entire time. The Black Widow, however, was exposed”.

“Good. Romanoff is an excellent spy and I have a job that she would perfect for. You three, however, will have a different mission. I believe that whoever made an attempt on my godson’s life will most likely try again. He must be watched carefully. However, knowing Anthony as I do, he will outright refuse a bodyguard”, she explained, and then smiled at the Captain, “Tell me, Rogers, have you ever gone to college?”

---

Leave a comment and/or ask to be tagged // Feed my caffeine addiction

#stevetony #superhusbands #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #secret agents au #undercover love #fanfic #older steve #younger tony

5 notes · View notes