#legally obligated to reply to comments on the last chapter [i respond to them when i post the newest chapter] and then Leave The Internet
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alright gamers here we are. chapter 5. trapper and bj makeout sesh [clickbait] [but trapper DID get up in his face to trim his mustache so]
they still havent eaten FUCKING DINNER. but trapper and bj are interacting so thats sicknasty. hawkeye is a menace to local mongers.
bts as usual
first; the list ive started compiling;
so now you can very harshly judge me if i fuck up things i HAVE done. such as making mac n cheese from scratch in the next chapter and describing the midwest. and making tea. and wow ok the list of things i HAVE done is short.
second; the attitude i tried to maintain;
pro tip; ur best friend's crush cant hate you if you flirt with him and confuse him
and then normal bts;
if i fucked up somewhere, PLEASE hit me with a shovel [let me know]. i WILL fix it. i AM fallible
henry blake field day is like. 85% done. literally im just having a boss battle with myself slightly adjusting his face for 700 years
#mash#mash 4077#m*a*s*h#i gotta go shower now#legally obligated to reply to comments on the last chapter [i respond to them when i post the newest chapter] and then Leave The Internet#just for a while. so. shower#.ficposting
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“Sugar Sugar”: Chapter Two
Lots of anons and your replies told me that I should probably publish the next chapter of the Sugar Daddy Damerey AU.
First Post is Here
Thanks to @dame-reylo-ve for the gorg moodboard <3
PS: if you want to see the rest of this fic (I have a lot more planned) let me know <3
Chapter Two (rated M, for sexual content at the end), Word Count: 5396 words
“We should really talk about a contract,” Mr. Dameron said after he’d paid the bill – he’d frowned when Rey instinctively reached for the check, and she’d sat on her hands, blushed and whispered sorry, which seemed to more than mollify him.
“A contract?” She blinked, twice, trying to understand. “I’m sorry, but what do I need a contract for?” She hated documentation. Hated it. She had a file at her apartment, filled to the brim with documents. Her intake form from when she was five, and they had found her in that wretched place. The subsequent stacks of forms from foster homes she’d been dragged to after they couldn’t find any family; the foster homes she ran away from (police reports to go with that, reports listing her runaway status), and then dragged back to. The forms Unkar Plutt had filled out when he’d gotten his hands on her at fourteen –
The form he’d made her sign at 18, promising she wouldn’t work anywhere but at his junkyard. Finn had found that one, right after they’d become friends, and shook his head violently, loudly insisting this isn’t legal, Peanut, he can’t hold you to this, and she hadn’t believed him, had cried and insisted it was real, she belonged to Plutt, belonged in the junk, and Finn had called Ben Solo, a friend of a friend who was a high-powered lawyer who sat her down and shook his head at the document that had been haunting her and told her she was free.
He’d also encouraged her to burn the document, to kill her past – but Rey liked reminders. She needed to remember not to trust people.
So when Mr. Dameron said contract, she balked. “There’s no need,” she said, as Mr. Dameron tilted his head at her, not quite frowning, but not looking happy either. “I won’t – I wouldn’t tell anyone about … what we are.”
He frowned softly and shook his head. “No, Rey, it’s not just an NDA, although that’s part of it. This would be to protect you just as much as me. Make it clear what you should expect, and what I should expect from this. I’ll have my lawyer write something up, and we can look it over at lunch next week.”
And Rey had agreed because something about the soft openness of his face made her believe him, made her believe it was for her own good, and then she went home and writhed against her sheets, her skin too small for her body. Before she could fall asleep, her phone buzzed on the floor next to her mattress, and she rolled over to check it.
Her phone was a second generation iPhone that she’d salvaged from the trash – had watched, indignant, as a frat boy had chucked it the second he opened his new phone – and kept alive through sheer skill. Sure, she was mildly worried it might actually catch fire some day soon, but it worked. And she’d pieced it together, kept it alive. It was hers. But she didn’t often get texts.
[Unknown Number]: I had a great time tonight, sweetheart. I hope you sleep well.
Rey blushed. No one had ever sent her a goodnight text before. She had a limited data plan though, so she fretted about sounding a response – you could ask him to get you the next step up in your data plan, the calm, calculating part of her brain pointed out – but then she did, not wanting to seem rude. And it was sweet of him to think of her.
She saved him to her contacts (you have five full friends now, Smith!) and then responded.
[Rey]: Thank you for dinner, Mr. Dameron. Can’t wait to see you next week. Xx.
She fired it off before she could think better of it and then shrieked quietly into her pillow. She was never that flirty. X’s? Like she was in middle school still? Rey Smith, who never so much as sent a folded-up love note to a would-be paramour, suddenly dotting her texts with kisses – what was next? Emojis?
What the fuck.
She hadn’t even done it to be performative, she knew. She … really wanted Mr. Dameron to think she had a good time. She wanted to make him happy.
Fuck. If only she could afford therapy.
Rey giggled hysterically at the thought of asking her sugar daddy to pay for a few sessions of therapy, I mean, I clearly have some unresolved issues, but then frowned. She knew, really, why the idea of a contract had bothered her. It, like all the other documents in her life, would be a constant reminder of what she was. An accessory, an unnecessary addition, something that could be removed and moved and taken away, left behind.
Rey didn’t want to be a piece of paper to Poe Dameron. She wanted to be more. Wanted him to smile at her on her own merit, not because she was a young woman who agreed to spend time with him in a monetary, controlled transaction. She wanted to – to --
God. She was already fucked.
***
Across town, in a penthouse that overlooked the majority of Coruscant, Poe Dameron looked up from the open document that his lawyer had finished, express, this evening. There’d been past documents to start from, of course, from other girls who’d entered into this arrangement with him – but Poe wanted it to be perfect. It needed to be perfect, and different, and he was probably being selfish, but he wanted more than anything for this to work. Not fizzle out after three months when the girl moved on, understandably, to a younger, more suitable man, one who wasn’t quite as fucked up, one who didn’t hide behind his money as a poor exchange for intimacy.
His phone had buzzed – it was past midnight, and he hadn’t expected a response, but his heart skipped a beat, seeing the now-familiar name on the screen.
[Rey Smith, 12:21 a.m.]: Thank you for dinner, Mr. Dameron. Can’t wait to see you next week. Xx.
He groaned and buried his face in his hands. He hadn’t even asked her to call him Mr. Dameron. A part of him – unconquerable, so it would seem – almost wanted to let slip his military career, let her know that it was technically Major Dameron. But wouldn’t that call forth a whole lot of uncomfortable questions that he’d feel obligated to answer? Poe shook his head. That was the beauty of this arrangement. They didn’t need to ask each other uncomfortable questions.
But I’d tell her, he thought randomly. I don’t know why, but I would. Poe clenched his fist and stood to fix a drink. He stood in the window overlooking the city and sighed through his nose. Three hours with her, and she’d gotten under his skin. What was he doing?
It started when he realized she had no idea who he was. At first, he worried that Paige had told her to play it cool, to not let it slip that she recognized his name, his story. But Rey Smith was guileless. She blushed and giggled and had no idea which utensil to use and when – and he was charmed. Immediately. The second she said his name, Mr. Dameron? the syllables sounding so damn right in her voice, rounded slightly by a British accent – he knew. He didn’t want to mess this one up.
Poe went back to the contract only to save his changes and then headed to bed, a full two hours earlier than normal. He looked at the text one last time, greedily, before he fell asleep, focusing on the two small x’s at the end of the text.
Maybe she’d let him kiss her.
There’s a thought.
***
Drawing up the contract was not nearly as awkward as Rey feared it would be. A car had pulled up outside the coffeeshop she was studying at – even if she couldn’t afford fall tuition for her Master’s, she could always keep studying, and the coffeeshop had free WiFi – and Rey waved at the driver nervously.
“Ms. Smith?” The man unfolded himself from the car and opened up the door for her. Rey frowned – she really could have done that for herself, no need to inconvenience anyone – and nodded.
“I’m Rey,” she said, sticking her hand out. The chauffeur raised his eyebrows but took the offered hand.
“Snap Wexley,” he said cheerfully. Rey hopped in, and he returned to the driver’s seat. It was a nice car, and Rey hummed appreciatively at the sound of the engine. It was efficient, and no-nonsense, and probably the nicest car she’d sat in – she’d taken apart nicer ones, of course, but she was sitting in this, which was worlds different.
“Do you work for Mr. Dameron?” Rey asked curiously while they pulled away from the curb.
“I do!” Snap grinned at her in the rearview mirror, and Rey smiled back.
“For how long?” She asked, fiddling with the strap of her bag, an old crossbody she’d found thrifting six months ago.
“I left the Army a year ago, and Mr. Dameron offered me the job so I could work while I went to school,” Snap said, turning left and getting on the expressway towards uptown. The sky lightened up considerably while they drove around from her side of town, which Rey rolled her eyes at. Of course, rich people got nicer weather, too.
“Oh! What are you studying?” She could see a stack of textbooks on the front seat, and Snap’s neck turned a little red.
“Aeronautics and engineering. It makes sense, right?”
Rey frowned. The comment didn’t make a lot of sense, but she didn’t want to be rude. “Aeronautics is super cool,” she enthused, slightly wincing at her diction. Whatever. She was young, she could sound young. And it was super cool. “I went for Mechanical Engineering, myself. I love taking things apart and putting them back together. Got me in trouble a lot when I was younger.”
Got me evicted from more than one house. She didn’t add that part.
Snap laughed and shook his head. “I can’t imagine you being in trouble.”
“And what does that mean?” Rey pretended to sound indignant.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m just supposed to believe that you were a troublemaker, ever. Your shirt has daisies on it, Ms. Smith.”
“It’s just Rey,” she corrected hurriedly, and she snorted, looking down at her outfit. A comfortable grey shirt with daisies on it, skinny jeans, and converse. “Maybe these are poisonous daises. Real bad ass stuff. Weaponized flora.”
Snap laughed harder at that, and they spent the rest of the drive snarking back and forth.
She felt much more relaxed by the time they pulled up outside of an upscale restaurant. Rey shook her head when they got out, sliding quickly to beat Snap to the door. He huffed in pretend annoyance, and Rey stuck her tongue out at him. He stuck his tongue out back, and Rey heard a familiar voice.
“Rey?” She and Snap startled apart, both looking like kids who’d gotten their hands caught in a cookie jar.
“Mr. Dameron!” She squeaked. God. Oh God.
He was even hotter than she remembered. All the research on this sort of dynamic that she’d done the last four days threatened to fall right out of her head at the sight of him. He was wearing a plum button down tucked into grey pants, and his hair was much more tame today. Was this his lunch hour? Did he work? Rey stumbled forward, and when he held his hand out, she took it, expecting them to shake again.
He kissed her knuckles instead, bending at the waist to brush his lips over her hand, and Rey shivered, not unpleasantly. Her skin prickled into gooseflesh despite the fact that it was seventy degrees, and Mr. Dameron looked up at her under hooded eyes. They held eye contact for easily five seconds, long, agonizing, eternal seconds, and Snap cleared his throat.
“I’ll get going then,” Snap said, and Rey startled and looked back at him.
“It was lovely to meet you, Snap!” She beamed at him.
“It was absolutely a pleasure to meet you as well, Rey.” He tipped his hat at her, got in the car, and pulled away back into the light traffic of mid-day.
“Charming my employees?” Mr. Dameron asked, and Rey looked over at him, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. “Should I be worried?”
“Definitely.” Rey smirked at him before she remembered why they were there, and she frowned at the building behind him. “Why do I get the feeling that a plate in there costs more than what I spend on utilities each month?”
“I mean, it probably does,” Mr. Dameron sounded unbothered, and Rey sighed. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not dressed very nicely,” she pointed out. “When you said lunch, I was thinking, like, burgers or something.”
“I’m fairly certain they serve hamburgers here,” he teased. “And if they don’t, I could ask them to.” She had a feeling people didn’t say no to Mr. Dameron; he was an odd combination of charismatic and demanding. She fidgeted all the same. “What is it?” He looked concerned now.
“Could we – could we go somewhere less fancy?” Rey asked. He opened his mouth, probably to argue, but she plowed forward. “I just – the idea of sitting somewhere nice, looking like I don’t belong, when I already know I don’t – it’s really stressful.”
The therapist she’d managed to see for five months in undergrad was probably applauding somewhere. Mr. Dameron looked taken aback, like that honestly hadn’t occurred to him.
“Of course,” he said smoothly. “I’ll just step inside and cancel the reservation. Do you want to look at Yelp and see what’s in walking distance?” He smiled at her and went into the building, and Rey opened her phone, calculated how much data it would take to download an app like Yelp – she tried opening her browser, remembered that she turned off data for Chrome, and went back in to turn it on in her settings.
She was still fumbling when Mr. Dameron returned. “Sorry!” She stammered. Making people – especially men who were larger than her – unhappy still freaked her out, even after years of self-defense classes and a complete awareness that she could take down most people with extreme ease. She just did not like to displease people. Ingrained reaction. “Sorry, so sorry, my phone is –“
“On its last legs?” Mr. Dameron didn’t sound condescending, but he did shoot her phone a weird look before pulling out his own – and was that model even out yet? – and typing in something rapidly. She saw a folder tucked under his arm, and she squirmed realizing that must be the fabled contract. A pen was in his front pocket, and the sunlight was hitting his cheekbones just right, and –
“Good hamburgers, two blocks over,” he reported, grinning at her when he looked up and caught her staring. “Do I have something on my face?”
There were a hundred and one witty comebacks she could have gone with, but Rey opened her mouth and said, “You’re just really handsome, is all.”
Oh, fuck you, Smith.
His grin softened into something that made her heart clench, and he held out his arm for her to take, nodding in the direction of the new restaurant. Rey unthinkingly slipped her hand through his own, and not through his elbow, realizing halfway through her motion what he had intended. He didn’t seem to mind. At least, she hoped he didn’t.
“So, I saw the address you sent.” She’d dropped a pin at the coffeeshop. She wasn’t ready for him to see where she lived. “Do you go to that coffeeshop often?”
“Yeah,” Rey smiled at the sidewalk while they walked. “Maz has really good tea.” And she lets me drink it for free, a pastry thrown in too, if I fix her appliances every now and then. “And it’s in walking distance of my apartment, which is nice.”
“You live with Paige’s younger sister, right? Rosie?”
“Don’t let her hear you call her that,” Rey laughed. “Rose hasn’t gone by that nickname for as long as I’ve known her.”
“I knew her when she was a lot younger, I guess,” Mr. Dameron allowed, and she snuck a glance at him. He looked thoughtful, and he wasn’t looking at her, so she re-directed her attention to the sidewalk.
“But she is my roommate, yeah,” Rey remembered that he’d asked her a question. “For now.” She lived in a nicer apartment, for now. She had someone to come home to, for now.
“Moving soon?” They turned left and continued walking down the block. The storefronts looked a little more accessible, a little more homey now, and Rey saw a diner at the bottom of the hill. She hoped that was their destination.
“Rose is moving out with her boyfriend, Finn. He’s my best friend,” Rey said that last part proudly. Finn Trooper was the best person she knew – they’d even tried the romance thing when they were 18, but after a disastrous series of events and dates, they’d laughed and decided to be platonic soulmates; he’d met Rose a year later, and they’d been together ever since. “And they want their own place.”
They’d invited her to come with them, of course, but the rent was just a little more than she could afford, and she knew they were just being nice. Because they were both nice people. No one would really want her tagging along when they were starting a nice, new shiny life.
“So you’re hunting for a new apartment, then?” They were slowing as they neared the diner, and Rey’s stomach rumbled in anticipation. If he heard, he didn’t comment. “I know a realtor who can help you find a good deal.”
Christ. If the apartments she were looking at required a realtor, she probably wouldn’t be here right now. She’d be swimming in a tub full of money, like Scrooge McDuck. Unbidden, the image of Poe Dameron swimming in a bathtub of money came to mind, which made her snort and also blush.
“No, no,” Rey said as he opened the door for her, and she walked into the diner. “No, I’ll find something.” She actually had her eye on a place for 900 a month. It was over in Niima, a neighborhood of Coruscant that was less than stellar, but it was near the bus stop, and the metro, and the building had a lot of families in it, so it couldn’t be that bad.
They seated themselves, which already meant this place was more her speed. Rey didn’t even bother looking at the menu, just chirped “Biggest burger you have!” at the waitress, who snorted at Rey’s eagerness, and then looked over at Mr. Dameron.
He was regarding the menu with a strange look on his face, and when the waitress cleared her throat, he startled. “I’ll have the biscuits and gravy, thanks.” The waitress nodded and walked away, and Rey leaned over the table to smirk at him.
“Biscuits and gravy?” She teased. “Do you even know what gravy is?”
“It’s basically meat in condiment form, right?” He was absolutely deadpan, and Rey rolled her eyes at him. The food came out alarmingly quickly after they’d made some more small talk, and she wasted no time hoovering down her entire burger.
Mr. Dameron had eaten about half of a biscuit, slathered in homemade gravy, by the time she crunched her last pickle spear. He looked absolutely shocked, and mildly impressed. “Hungry?” He asked. “Or are you practicing for some kind of competition.”
“Where I grew up, you ate your food quick before someone could take it away from you,” Rey shrugged. “If they even bothered feeding you.” She frozen taking a sip of her water at the look on Mr. Dameron’s face.
He set his fork and knife down carefully. “What?” He asked. His stare was arresting, and Rey couldn’t look away. She flushed with embarrassment, then. She shouldn’t dump this on him. Whatever was going on between them, it didn’t come with the necessity of him shouldering her tragic backstory.
“Nothing.” Rey whispered and looked out the window. “Nothing that matters.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She didn’t answer the question, and instead asked one of her own. “So. The contract?” She nodded her head towards the folder he’d set down next to him on the table. Rey wiped her fingers on her napkin and reached out for it. “May I?” Mr. Dameron handed it over, but he looked no less pensive while she opened the folder.
Her brow furrowed while the unfamiliar words swam past her eyes. A lot of legal jargon, something about ‘discretion’ and ‘privacy’ – this must be the NDA. She shrugged. “This part looks fine, I don’t intend on telling anyone. I mean, Rose knows because of Paige, but Finn’s my only other friend, and he isn’t very nosy.” She held her hand out without looking up, and Mr. Dameron placed the pen in her palm. Rey signed quickly and flipped to the next page.
“Oh.” She squinted and frowned – why did legal documents have to have such tiny font – at the list of clauses Mr. Dameron had provided. “Three dates or events a week, maximum, one date a week, minimum…provision of allowance…” there was a blank next to ‘ in the amount of,’ and she looked up at her dining partner.
Mr. Dameron smiled at her. “I figured you could give me a figure, and we could write it in.”
“Uhm,” Rey looked down and then back up and then back down. “Well...I mean, isn’t like, twenty dollars normal?”
“…An hour?” Mr. Dameron’s face twisted in confusion when she glanced at him.
“No, like, a week.” Rey snorted. “God, Mr. Dameron, my job doesn’t even pay me twenty dollars an hour.”
“You want an allowance of twenty dollars a week?” Mr. Dameron still didn’t look any less confused, but amusement was creeping into the corners of his expression.
“What?” Rey closed the folder to wave it at him. “I saw it on TV once. Allowances are like, twenty dollars a week.”
“Sweetheart.” Mr. Dameron reached across the table, and she took his hand without thinking. His thumb stroked over the back of her hand soothingly, and she took a deep breath, waiting for him to speak. “How about we set it at 2000 and move on from there?”
“Two…thousand…” Rey spluttered for a minute and then shook her head. “No. No, it’s too much.”
“I want to give it to you,” he said. “Please. It’s…sort of part of this.” Rey frowned and then tapped her fingers against the folder. She owed about 50 grand in student loans from undergrad…twenty five or so weeks of this, and she could pay it off. And hadn’t she just read, bolded, underlined, in red: ‘no sexual contact shall be expected as part of the relationship; any sexual contact will be initiated by both parties and under full, adult consent of both parties outside of the pre-arranged relationship.’ It’s not like taking his money meant that she was expected to do sex work. And she’d even considered that method of paying the bills a few times in her life – she just didn’t like the idea of sex enough to consider it, preferring to work with her hands.
What an odd arrangement she’d stumbled into, then. Paige Tico would either prove to be her salvation or her destruction.
Mr. Dameron was still talking while the gears of her mind whirred. “… We can always increase it later, if you want, but that would be your independent spending money. It’d be nice if you bought things, and I could see you using them, of course, it’s…something I’m interested in, but then there will be the things that I buy for you, and –”
“Okay.” Rey cut him off and flipped the folder back open. She scrawled $2000 in the space provided in the allowance clause and then signed rapidly at the bottom of the page. “This all looks good.”
“There’s still another page.” His smile was impossibly fond, considering this was their second meeting, and Rey turned to the next page. “And if there’s anything you want to change, let me know.” Her eyes skipped down the page, catching on certain phrases:
R. S will let P. Dameron know of any necessary expense, so that he may cover it –
R. S will consent to weekends away, not to exceed one weekend per month –
R. S be provided one copy of key to P. Dameron’s Coruscant residence, to be used at signatory’s discretion, but to be surrendered at the termination of contract –
This contract will be revisited and edited as needed, or terminated, in three months, on September 15, 2018.
“Three months?” Rey asked, not looking up.
“It’s to see if this works out,” he said steadily, as if expecting the question. “This would be a sort of probationary period, where we learn about each other, see if we’re compatible to continue in this sort of arrangement. Either one of us can agree to terminate it before then, however. We’d just have to sit down and renew it by that date.”
Rey shrugged and signed the last few lines, initialing here and there where necessary – noting that he’d already filled out his lines – before closing the folder carefully. “Can I … can I have a copy of this?”
“I’ll have it sent to your apartment later today,” he smiled and took the last bite of his meal, sopping up the gravy with his biscuit. “God, I haven’t had this in forever.”
“It’s fairly easy to get,” Rey teased. “I’m sure one of your cooks could make it for you.”
“My mom used to make it, actually,” Mr. Dameron said quietly. “Haven’t had it since she passed.”
“Oh.” Rey flailed internally. She didn’t know if her mom had been a cook. Her mom wasn’t even really much of a mom. Is now when she should say well, my mom sold me for drugs when I was four, so … ? She went for, “Was she southern?”
Was. She. Southern.
WhatthefuckiswrongwithyouRey?!?
Mr. Dameron didn’t seem affronted by the question, but the sadness in his eyes dimmed somewhat. “No, actually, she was Cuban. But she moved to the South when she was a kid, and that was one of her favorite foods. It always reminds me of her, though, when I see it or think of it.”
“Food connects us to our past,” Rey said. “Reminds us of who we were, and who we are.” She was thinking, in all honesty, of the meal she’d eaten at 14, after Unkar had beaten her again for breaking something that she had sworn was already broken, the half-mangled sandwich she found out back of a restaurant in town – she’d eaten it, lip still bleeding, her hands raw and sore from working too much, but she’d eaten it, and she’d known she’d survive, no matter what, she could do any fucking thing she wanted to, if she could only survive, and –
Mr. Dameron beamed at her, breaking her reverie. He had no idea the turn her thoughts had taken, obviously, and Rey wasn’t about to tell him. “Exactly.” He pulled out his wallet and thumbed through for a fifty – Rey’s eyes almost fell out of her head while she watched him go through his wallet (and she totally would have pickpocketed him six years ago, the man had more money than God, what the ever loving fuck, there had to be more than eight hundred dollars in there). He set the money on the table and held his hand out for her. She didn’t hesitate in taking it, and they strolled out onto the street, the folder in his free hand.
“So,” he said, releasing her hand to take out his phone. He typed quickly while talking. “I have an event on Friday. I’d like for you to be my date. It’s black tie; send me your measurements, and I’ll take care of everything.” Mr. Dameron finished typing, and he smiled at her look of surprise. “Send me your address too, will you? I’d like to send the copies of these forms over, and probably a few other things.”
“Okay.” Rey nodded, unquestioningly, but then she remembered – “Um. Would it be alright – I mean, if I came to you? After I got ready? I don’t want – it’s just.” Rey sighed and buried her face in her hands. “Your car would stick out on my street, and I want to respect your privacy.” Also, I live in general squalor and I’d rather die than see you figure out where to hang your Armani jacket in my shitty ass apartment.
“Of course.” Mr. Dameron smiled at her, and Rey sighed in relief, dropping her hands from her face. “Until Friday, then?”
“Until Friday,” she confirmed. Rey leaned in and kissed his cheek on impulse. “And don’t worry about sending for Snap, I can get home just fine on my own.” She squeezed his upper arm and darted down the street towards the metro before he could fight her on it or even say goodbye.
Friday. Three days away. She could do this.
She paused right before swiping her metro card at the entrance to the station – fuck. Now she needed to shave.
***
Poe watched the girl leave with utter bemusement. She was fiercely independent, that much was sure – twenty dollars? And she’d said it like it was a lot of money? God, he was going to have so much fun spoiling her rotten – and while normally that would have irritated him in this kind of arrangement, Rey blew off the normalcies of the typical dynamic with a mixture of bravado and innocence that was deeply, troublingly alluring.
He went back to work and left his phone in his bag during a series of meetings, but he had a text waiting for him in reward when he got out around 6:30.
[Rey Smith, 4:25 p.m.]: This is so weird to put in a text! But I’m 5’7”, and my measurements are 32, 23, 34. I’m a size four, I’m pretty sure, and I wear a size 8 shoe.
[Rey Smith, 4:26 p.m.]: Oh! And my favorite color is green. Anyway, thank you for lunch. See you on Friday. Xx
The damn kisses again. Poe was going to lose his fucking mind at the memory of her soft lips against his cheek from this afternoon – what had inspired her to do that? She had seemed almost as surprised as him at the action, and she’d scurried away before he could react properly.
Out of his last five relationships, all of which involved some version of the contract they’d signed today, three of them had been sexual. And they’d been deeply exploratory, very kinky – but ultimately a little dissatisfying, a little performative. The women had all assured him they enjoyed the sex, and he’d enjoyed it too, but he knew now he couldn’t look for sex while also paying someone’s way.
But Rey Smith’s large, doe eyes were just tempting enough for him to be inspired to think about, say, bending her over the desk in his office and fucking her forty stories off the ground, her breathy voice panting ‘Thank you Mr. Dameron, thank you’ with each thrust – maybe pressing her against the glass, stripping her completely naked while he took out his cock and remained completely dressed, holding her hands above her head while he fucked her from behind – setting her on his chair, throwing her legs over his shoulders, and finding out if she tasted as sweet as her laugh – running his hands over her lithe, perfect body, whispering how beautiful she was in her ear while he rocked into her gently, his name a soft exhalation in his ear while they both meandered their way to a warm, loving climax –
Holy shit. That was definitely a new one. Poe’s eyes flew open, and he dragged his hand over his face. He couldn’t expect that, any of that – especially not that last fantasy, where she was very obviously his girlfriend – from her. It wouldn’t be fair.
He needed to regain some of his self-control.
#damerey#jedipilot#light smut#sugar daddy au#fic#writing#moodboard#seriously do people want the rest of this?
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Story of my life
Chapter 10
As always, I could not do this without the help and support of my Alex (@niallandharrymakemestrong).
THIS IS NSFW
Kacey was beside herself. The last five and a half weeks had passed by while she sat at home alone and Harry finished up the North American leg of the tour.
After dropping the boys off at the airport, Kacey had cried all the way home. Laura had been subdued as well and they consoled themselves by spending the day in the entertainment room watching favorite movies and eating loads of carbs. And ice cream, always ice cream. Legally Blonde and Clueless helped pass the time until the boys texted that they had landed and were safe. Kacey went to bed that night hugging the stuffed moose. She had slept on Harry’s pillow and fell asleep breathing his scent.
She moped around for the next week, brightening only when Harry called or texted. On day six of what Laura had termed ‘the dark days of waiting’, she told her to go back to England because she was messing with her ‘investment guru mojo.’
“I love you Kacey, you know that, but you are seriously cooling my vibe and that is costing us beaucoup bucks. Pack up your shit and get the hell back to England; you can sulk all you want and I can get back to making us money.”
So, Kacey had flown back a week early and was greeted by a cool rain at Heathrow. Perfect. She puttered around her flat in a cloud of ennui until Harry asked her, in a concerned tone during a Skype session, if she was sick. Realizing that she was being ridiculous, and feeling guilty for worrying him, she set her alarm for 7 the next morning and got up and went for a run. Okay, a walk, she went for a walk. But it was a long one; all the way to Harry’s house and back. She showered, ate a good breakfast and sat down at her desk to write.
Amazingly, the words flowed. They spilled onto the keyboard as fast as she could type, her recent mood matching the darker setting of the story. She worked long hours taking breaks only to eat, exercise, shower, and talk to Harry. She barely noticed the passage of time; she was so engrossed in getting the story out of her head and onto the page. It was cathartic too, all her frustrations from her trip home were excised and all her longing for Harry was placed upon her main character to suffer. As Laura had predicted, Ronald and Louanne had died horrible deaths for their comments about Harry. She was in the zone and stayed there for weeks. When she came up for air, she had finished her third book. Kacey loved it when it all came together like that, like it was meant to be.
She was eating a sandwich and checking out the concert videos on YouTube when she realized that the next concert, the one that evening, was the last one—Harry would be home in less than 48 hours. Her heart gave a little leap. And then it gave another when she realized that, during her writing binge, she had neglected certain bodily maintenance activities. She immediately made an appointment at Bliss for what her grandmother would have called ‘the whole shebang.’ Fortunately, they had an opening that afternoon. She grabbed her purse and her keys and headed out the door.
Four hours later she returned having been buffed, waxed, plucked, kneaded, coiffed and deforested. She had also made a stop at Coco de Mer dropping a couple hundred pounds for some lace confections. While there she debated getting more but determined that three pairs were enough. Then she debated about getting some toys but decided those could wait; right now, she wanted nothing but Harry. On a whim, she toured the luxury bondage area but had to leave almost immediately; 5 weeks without sex had left her starving and she was afraid she might come on the spot just imagining Harry strapping her into some of the gadgets she saw there.
Checking her phone, she saw that it was nearing 3PM in Massachusetts. She decided to send Harry a picture to make sure he remembered what he was coming home to. Nothing too risqué just in case he got hacked. She went into the bedroom and slipped on the ‘minerva open knickers’ and presented her derriere to the mirror. Flexing her leg, she snapped several pics and then reviewed them on her phone. One was perfect; the black lace sides open and held together with a corset like satin string, her cheeks peeking out at the edge of the frame. Grinning mischievously, she sent it to Harry with the comment “did a little shopping today…”
Her phone buzzed almost immediately with a reply that made her clench: it was a picture of Harry’s jeans, clearly bulging at the zipper with the caption “Are you trying to kill me?” It buzzed again with another picture, this one of his mouth with his tongue sticking out, accompanied by the message “Tomorrow, baby.”
*
Harry was impatient. Sitting in the back of the car he could see no reason for the trip from Heathrow to Belsize Park to be taking this long, especially at this time of night. He realized that he was tapping his foot when the driver looked at him in the rearview mirror. Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to be still. It had been forty days since he left Kacey at the airport. Forty days and forty nights of missing her company and craving her touch. He had wanted to head straight for the airport when they walked off stage last night but he had obligations: the goodbye party for the North American crew and celebration of the second leg of the tour being over. The text Kacey had sent almost made him blow it off and leave on the next flight out but he would have felt guilty. The crew had worked hard and he wanted to be there to thank them properly. He had waited to leave until that morning, as originally planned, and passed the time on the six-hour flight by sleeping. So here he was, sat in the back seat, running his thumb over the picture of her satin and lace accented ass willing the car to move faster.
Harry was out the door as soon as they pulled up, muttering a ‘thanks’ and grabbing his bag. Bounding up the stairs, he unlocked the door with the key she had given him their first weekend together.
He had just closed the door when he was hit by squealing blonde bundle that came flying at him around the corner. He snagged her in his arms and then his mouth was all over her. Hands roaming everywhere, tongues intertwined, neither one spoke. Lifting her up, he maneuvered to the first horizontal piece of furniture he could find: the kitchen table. Sitting her on it, he stepped back to look at her. She was wearing a tiny lace bra with no cups, her nipples covered with black pasties which he immediately thumbed off. He was eyeing her backless panties and considering just tearing them off, when she took his hand and demonstrated the open crotch. The sight of her leaning back and panting, slick with need, almost undid him. He managed to get his jeans unfastened and down to his thighs in record time and, without warning, plunged into her. He gasped as she enfolded him, bucking her hips, urging him to move. It was primal. It was two people, almost crazy with desire, fucking. The soft words and touches would come later, after the hunger was appeased.
Kacey, so full of Harry, began moaning and urging him on with “Please! Oh Harry, please!”
He complied, burying himself in her again and again. He reached down to stroke her and at his touch she came apart. He could feel her pulsing around him but he didn’t stop. Gritting his teeth, he continued moving into her, her cheeks slapping wetly against his thighs. She was keening, her back arched, leaning back on her elbows. He could feel her body tensing again and he pushed himself even harder and faster, his thumb flicking and circling her.
He growled out a “Come for me baby. Come for me again.”
At the sound of his voice she let go, her orgasm overwhelming her and sweeping Harry along in its wake. He felt almost paralyzed as the sensations washed over him, unable to do anything more than breathe. Bending down, he pulled her to him and cradled her against his chest.
“Baby, I’m home,” Harry whispered against her hair.
“Oh, I’ve missed you,” Kacey whispered back.
*
Kacey and Harry spent two days holed up in her flat, most of that time wrapped in each other’s arms. They were sitting in her bed one evening, Harry was answering texts, when he grunted and frowned at his phone.
“What’s wrong?” Kacey asked, looking up from proofing her book.
“Mm? Oh, Gemma is mad at me,” he replied, a hint of chagrin in his tone.
“Why? What have you done?” she asked, curious.
“It’s what I haven’t done. Haven’t called or gone to see her since I’ve been home.” His phone vibrated again. “She’s decided that I am taking her to lunch tomorrow,” looking at the screen and breaking into a grin. “I’ll have to explain myself then. Not my fault—you’ve been distracting me.”
“Don’t you dare blame me! I do not want your family to have any reason to dislike me!” Kacey responded, horrified.
“But it’s the truth. I am the loyal, loving brother who’s been lured into your entirely too sexy clutches. I’m so bewitched, I forgot about everyone else,” he proclaimed pulling an innocent face.
Kacey was beginning to pale, her eyes growing wide, her breathing becoming more rapid
“Kassidy? What’s wrong?” Harry looking at her, concerned.
“Please don’t tell her that. I…I’m…I don’t want…” Kacey couldn’t get the words out. Her hands had left the keyboard of her laptop and were wringing each other gently in her lap. Harry was alarmed to see that her eyes were moist.
“Baby, I’m only joking. What’s all this about?” as a tear threatened to spill out.
“I just don’t want your family to dislike me,” she managed after swallowing several times.
“Kassidy, love, how could they not like you? You are charming and witty and kind and interesting. Everyone loves you. You’re also their favorite author. They’ll be worried about impressing you not the other way ‘round,” he soothed, pulling her into his embrace.
“I’m not good with families. I don’t know what to say. It’s worse than chat shows or even the red carpet,” she said around the lump in her throat.
“Why don’t you come with me tomorrow? You’ll meet Gem, we’ll have a nice lunch and you’ll wonder why you were ever nervous about it,” he predicted, planting a kiss on her forehead.
“Harry, I don’t want to butt in on your time with your sister. I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate that at all. Maybe I could meet her another time,” Kacey tried.
“Okay, not lunch. Then join us tomorrow for pudding,” he substituted.
“Oh, Harry, I don’t know---” she began reluctantly until Harry cut her off.
“Please. Come with me. I know you two will get along famously,” he entreated.
“Okay. I’ll come. But please don’t tell her that I write. I would rather she like, or dislike, me for me and not because of my books,” Kacey relented.
Grinning wide, Harry kissed her forehead again then stretched to kiss her lips.
*
Kacey was so agitated she thought she might vomit. She was almost to the restaurant and was becoming more nervous by the minute. She had agonized over her outfit finally deciding on her favorite dress, a vintage one made of pink gingham, and sandals. She had pulled her hair into a messy bun; her only jewelry was a sterling silver and sea glass drop necklace and matching earrings that Harry had brought her from Boston. Pulling into the valet parking, she handed her keys to the attendant and climbed out of the mini. She paused for a moment before entering, trying to slow her breathing.
The hostess led her to the table in a secluded corner where Harry and Gemma were sitting, she with her back to the door. Harry’s eyes lit up when he saw her and he rose to greet her. Understanding that they were in public, he gave her a quick hug before turning to Gemma.
“Gem, this is Kassidy Day. Kassidy, my sister Gemma,” he introduced, smiling broadly.
Kacey was reaching out her hand when Gemma pulled her into a hug.
“Kassidy! It’s so nice to meet you. Harry has been telling me all about you,” she greeted warmly.
“Hello, Gemma,” Kacey said smiling. “It’s good to meet you too.”
Kacey sat down and Harry poured her a cup of tea, beaming at the two of them. They ordered dessert and then set about getting to know one another. Harry sat back and watched, sipping his tea, as they discussed their respective university careers, Kacey’s roles on Mortwick Murders and the Terrier Chronicles, and Gemma’s column at The Debrief. He was thoroughly enjoying their conversation, even when Gemma started telling stories about him as a young boy. Kacey laughed until she had tears running down her cheeks, grateful for the waterproof mascara.
They had exchanged phone numbers and were walking towards the door to leave when Gemma exclaimed “Oh! I almost forgot, Harry several of our crew from Cheshire are in town this weekend and we’re all going out. You and Kassidy should come too.”
“That sounds good. Text me the details and we’ll check our schedules,” he said. He was driving Gemma back to her flat before returning to Kacey’s. The valet brought his car and he turned to give Kacey a purely platonic hug, whispering that he would see her back at her flat soon. He and Gemma pulled off with a wave and Kacey only had a few minutes to wait for her car to arrive.
*
Kacey had been home for about 30 minutes when her mobile rang with Harry’s ringtone. She had left her purse on a table by the window and she hurried to retrieve it, grinning.
Hello, handsome,” she began. Harry cut her off.
“Kassidy, move away from the window,” his voice displeased.
“What? Why? What’s wrong?” she asked, confused.
“There’s a pap across the street from your flat. He’s staring up at your window. Baby, move away from there. We forgot to pull the shades this morning,” his voice showing a hint of anger.
“Oh no! Does he know you were here?” she responded, worry creeping in.
“I don’t think so, there’s only one. I pulled down your street and saw him, he didn’t see me. Shit! You’re flat is too accessible. Baby, pack a bag then come out the back of the flat. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go to my house. It’s more secure,” Harry instructed.
Kacey ran to her room and grabbed a bag and threw some clothes into it. She retrieved some toiletries and her toothbrush and tossed them in. Snagging a pair of trainers, she packed them as well. She was about to walk out the rear entrance when she made a decision. Dropping the bags and turning into the lounge, she walked to the window. Making a show of squinting and shielding her face from the sun, she pulled the shade across the window then stepped back. Looking out she saw the man standing across the street. When she bought the flat, she had invested in some high-end shades that blocked 100 percent of the outside visibility in the day time while still letting the light, and the view, in. She was confident that they would thwart any paps that tried to get pictures that way.
Moving quickly, she set a timer on the lamp. Picking up Harry’s bag as well as her own, she quickly walked out the back of the flat, locking the door behind her. Harry was waiting for her in an alley behind her building. She put the bags on the floor and climbed in. They pulled away as soon as her door was closed. Driving past the end of her block, she glanced over to see that the pap was still staring up at her window.
She breathed a sigh of relief that they had not been noticed. She turned to Harry who was still frowning.
“Thank goodness for your pap-dar,” she smiled.
“My what?” he asked, still frowning.
“Your pap-dar. Pap radar. You know, like your spidey sense?” she intoned seriously.
She was rewarded with a dimple. Glancing at her he replied “You don’t ever get to make fun of my jokes again after that one. Pap-dar indeed.”
Kacey laughed and leaned back for the short ride.
*
Harry had carried the bags up to his room and then joined Kacey in the lounge on the sofa. He was dreading the discussion he was about to initiate. Sitting next to her, he took her hand and a deep breath.
“Kassidy, we need to talk. I’m sorry. I should have warned you about all this that first night,” regret edging in.
“About what? About paps? Are you serious?” she was looking at him quizzically.
“Yes. About the paps. And the fans,” his tone becoming more worried.
“Harry Styles! Do you think I’m ignorant? Do you think I don’t know that you are hounded everywhere you go? That you can’t be in the same room as a single female without the paps and the fans melting down the internet? That the fans, while wonderful, can be rabid bitches that attack anyone you are seen with?” she asked, amused.
“Um, yeah. I mean no. I mean, you know all that?” he said flustered.
Kacey was grinning now, “Yes Harry. Directioner, remember? I’ve seen all the ridiculous theories and rumors and the mob scenes and…it’s not okay. It’s not okay that they treat you like that,” she stated a little more forcefully than she had intended.
“It’s not me I’m worried about. I don’t want them to attack you on twitter and insta and all the other social media sites. And the gossip sites will try to tear you down as well,” sadness and anger competing for dominance in his voice.
“Harry. I’m not afraid. I understand the risks. I’m not frivolous, I rarely read anything on social media, I don’t trust many people and…I think you’re worth it,” she finished softly, reaching up to smooth a piece of hair that had wandered over his eyes.
“Baby, it won’t just be you. They’ll go after your friends, ex-boyfriends, they’ll go after your family,” his quiet tone lending weight to the words.
“Okay, Styles. First off, can you imagine them coming after Laura? Seriously? Do you know that she has a concealed carry permit and is a damn good shot? She’s in Kentucky; there are more guns there than in all of England and I think half of them are in my house. It would be extremely ill advised for them to try anything with Laura. As for ex-boyfriends, I could not give a rat’s ass what they might say. The fuckers,” her volume rising as she ticked off the list. “My family. Let me just promise you that anyone who tries to harass or harm my family will deal with me. I would hunt them down and the outcome would not be pretty,” she finished firmly.
Harry just blinked at her for a moment, then nodded and smiled. “Okay, good talk,” he said then kissed her nose.
*
Saturday night they joined Gemma and a group of friends from Holmes Chapel at a pub. The friends were a bit surprised that Harry brought a date and watched them with amusement. Kacey was wearing a bulky maroon V-necked cardigan, buttoned all the way, up over skinny black jeans and black knee boots with a 3-inch heel. Kacey enjoyed the banter and joking enormously. Harry’s friends vied to tell the best ‘young Harry’ story making him blush and grin. The crew were consuming beer as if it were a drinking tournament while Kacey, not a huge fan of the stuff, sipped red wine. After an hour or so, they decided on karaoke and goaded Harry into starting them off. Bowing with a goofy grin, he stepped to the mic and performed “What is Love” by Haddaway, his voice cracking as he laughed through the song. The group next turned to Kacey who protested that she was no singer to which Gemma responded that no one else was either. That earned a grimace and a “heeey” from her brother. Finally acceding, she grumbled out “What is with you Brits and karaoke?” as she walked to the mic.
“This is a song by my favorite singer,’ she announced seriously. The group all turned to Harry with an ‘awww’. The music started and they looked a little confused; no one recognized it.
“When I’m feeling lonely, sad as I can be. All by myself an uncharted island in an endless sea,” Kacey started. “What makes me happy, fills me up with glee? Those bones in my jaw that don’t have a flaw, my shiny teeth and me.”
Kacey was giggling as she belted out the rest of the song from ‘Chip Skylark.’ Harry and Gemma were laughing and cheering as she walked back to the table. The rest of the group clapped politely but gave each other side glances. Half an hour later, Kacey excused herself to go to the restroom. Looking in the mirror as she washed her hands, she saw the flush on her cheeks from the wine. Her eyes were sparkling and her smile was bright. She was a having a good time.
As she neared the table, her phone worked its way out of her back pocket and fell. Bending to retrieve it, she heard two of Harry’s friends talking. About her.
“She seems nice enough but she’s not the type he usually goes for. Dresses like a fooking librarian. And that song! What was that? She’s too vanilla for him.”
Gemma overheard them and turned and smacked the closest one on the back of the head. Telling them to “Shut it, you wankers,” she saw Kacey picking up her phone. She tried to catch her eye, but Kacey kept hers on the floor.
Kacey was quiet after returning to her seat. Harry, engrossed in the conversations, didn’t notice immediately. Her turn at singing was coming up again and she signaled the waitress, ordering some fortification before her next song. After his turn, Harry bounded back to the table, soundly kissing her before taking his seat next to her again. He announced that it was time for her just as the waitress placed two shots of John Jameson’s finest in front of her. Giving him a sly smile, she quickly downed the shots and licked her lips. Fanning herself a little bit, she remarked “Ooh, it’s hot in here all of a sudden!”
Still fanning herself, Kacey stood up and began to unbutton her cardigan. Harry smirked and shook his head, not knowing what she had planned, but sure it was going to be interesting. She shrugged the jumper off her shoulders and handed it to Harry. Underneath she was wearing a black leather and lace bustier with corset ties holding it together in the front. Every male jaw at the table fell and Gemma busted out laughing. Kacey strutted up to the mic and chose her song. Harry knew it was trouble when he heard the drumbeat start. She had chosen a Joan Jett version of an old Gary Glitter song. Once the guitar started, the gaze of every man in the room was on her.
Kacey cocked a hip and started singing directly to Harry.
“We've been here too long tryin' to get along Pretendin' that you're oh, so shy I'm a natural ma'am doin' all I can My temperature is runnin' high”
Her gyrations and body rolls would have done any exotic dancer proud.
“Do you wanna touch? (Yeah) Do you wanna touch? (Yeah) Do you wanna touch me there, where?”
Her pointing fingers left no doubt as to where. At the bridge, she undulated on the microphone stand her hair flipped over one eye, attention firmly on Harry. He, in turn, was staring at her with a knowing smile.
Making it through the rest of the song, she gave a body slide and crotch grab worthy of Mr. Styles himself as the last guitar stroke faded out. She carefully stepped around the microphone stand and walked primly back to the table amid cheers and whistles from the men in the room (and sidelong glares from the women). Gemma’s grin was huge and the rest of the crew sat stunned.
Harry cleared his throat. “Well, then. On that note…” he faded as he helped Kacey back into her jumper and began his goodbyes.
Gemma hugged Kacey fiercely and whispered “Well done, you.” Kacey grinned at her.
She walked ahead of Harry toward the door and heard him comment to his friends “It’s more of a spicy vanilla actually.”
Grinning he followed her out to the waiting car.
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CRAZY LOVE
CRAZY LOVE
Char: Reader, Jensen, Amber (AC), Mentioned: Jared
Word count: 1857
As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!!! Happy reading!!!
Chapter 7
You woke up around 8 am since you didn't have to work, you decided to get dressed and run some errands. You grabbed your laptop to see if Jensen had messaged you. You didn't see a message waiting for you so you decided to just shoot him a quick message "Hey, good morning or afternoon depending on when you get this," then you closed the IM window and went to the kitchen to cook some bacon, eggs, and toast. You sat at the kitchen table and ate. After you finished eating, you washed the dishes, gave your dogs food and water, then let them out before grabbing your keys and heading out to run errands. You wanted to get things done and out the way so you could relax the rest of your days off. You got a notification from messenger when you were on your way home. You waited till you got home to check it.
"Hey Y/N! Good morning! I'm happy that you messaged me. I was a little worried that you might have been scared off by me offering to fly to you and then we could fly to PA together. :) Jensen"
"Well, to be honest, Jensen, I was taken by surprise but I'm starting to like the idea," You sent it quickly before you had a chance to rethink it.
"Great! I actually would like to have the chance to talk to you face to face before we sing together again. :) Jensen," He replied so quickly. You didn't think he was right there but you were happy to be able to chat again.
"Do you think you can get away with it, lol? You know and not get in trouble?" You didn't want him to get in trouble especially legally.
"I didn't think of that. I will tell them I have a very sick friend in Springfield, IL and I will catch a flight from the Springfield airport. Jensen"
"Just a reminder that you should travel in disguise, lol."
"True, especially since I'll be traveling alone and no one is to know. I can't be caught with someone as the tabloids would have a field day, lol. Jensen"
"Should I go ahead and order the plane tickets or do you want to check with your boss first about how much time you can get off? Jensen"
"Hang on and I will try to call him now to see how much vacation time I have. BRB," You're so excited that he wants to spend time with you. You grab your phone and call work to see what amount of time you can get off for the convention. Your boss says you only have enough vacation time for 3 days but because you usually have Fri and Sat off anyway, those days wouldn't count. So you thanked your boss and told him that you will submit the request via the website.
"Well, I have enough time that I can have a total of 5 days so it looks like flying is really my only option, lol." You say smiling nervously thinking about flying.
"Great then I will go ahead and order the tickets! Jensen"
"Do you want me to pay you back for my ticket?" You say as you don't want him to feel obligated.
"Oh, no, it's fine, I have tons of frequent flyer miles. It won't cost anything if at all, lol. Besides, it's the least I can do. :) Jensen"
"I need to call Amber and let her know that I will be there and to see how long Amber wants me there. I'll be back shortly. :)" You say hoping that Amber won't have a problem with you being there for the whole convention.
"Ok Y/N! Chat with you soon! :) Jensen"
You hope that she answers as you press the send button to call Amber. It rings a few times. You start thinking you're going to get her voicemail, then she answers sounding like she was slightly out of breath.
"Thank you for calling Creation Entertainment, this is Amber, how may I direct your call?" Amber says as she answered the phone breathlessly.
"Hi Amber, this Y/N Y/L/N. I was calling to let you know about Pittsburgh," You say and allowing her a moment to catch her breath.
"Hello Y/N! So are you going to be able to get time off?" Amber says with hope and excitement.
"Well, I wondering how many days I need to take off actually. Do you only want me there for karaoke night or longer?" You ask trying to she what she had planned. You already knew that Jensen wants you there for the entire convention but you can't let her know that because he wasn't supposed to contact you.
"Well, you can stay for as long as you can and want. I'll take care of everything." Amber says excitedly.
"Ok, great! I already checked with my boss and I actually have enough time that I can be there for the entire convention," You say smiling.
"Awesome!! I'll get started on the arrangements right now! What do you want to do for transportation?" Amber says remembering that you're afraid to fly and planned to drive.
"I have that covered as long as you have me covered for everything else," You chuckled at the last part you said.
"That's great! I got you taken care of for everything else. I'll even provide you a rental car while in Pittsburgh if you want to go somewhere to save you gas," Amber says smiling and you can hear her smiling.
"Amber, I just have to say you're amazing and I can't wait to meet you in Pittsburgh! You will be there, right?" You say excitedly.
"Yes, I'll be there as I don't want to miss you and Jensen singing/harmonizing together again and I can't wait to meet you too! I need your address to mail the tickets and all other info, please," Amber says smiling
"No problem," You say then you give her your address.
"Is there anything else you need?" You ask to make sure she has everything she needs before you end the call.
"Actually 1 more thing. I need your shirt size as I will be listing you as a volunteer. You might be needed for a few hours on Fri before karaoke and Sun to volunteer so that I can show that's why we paid your expenses," Amber chuckled.
"Sure, no problem I understand. My shirt size is XLG. I like my shirts to fit loosely," You chuckle.
"Well, Y/N, thanks for calling me back and I'm glad I was able to talk to you. I can't wait to see you next month!" Amber says.
"I'm glad we got to talk too. I'll see you next month. Goodbye," You say and then hang up smiling.
It's after 1 pm and you realize you're getting hungry so you decide to go make a sandwich and grab some chips before you start to message Jensen back. After you eat, you clean up the little bit of mess you made in the kitchen then you go grab your laptop to take it to the kitchen table to type easier. You see that Jensen hasn't messaged you so you send him a short little message "Hey Jensen, I just talked to Amber and I'll be there for the entire convention." Then you close the IM window as you don't expect him to be sitting at his computer and decide to watch "True Blood" again. You watched a couple of episodes before you got a notice that Jensen had messaged you back. You smiled and opened the message.
"Hey Y/N, that's great news and I have great news too! Jensen"
"Oh really? What news?" You figured it would be that he got the tickets ordered and that everything was "in order".
"Well, I went to Jared's to ask him a question about the flights. I tried to tell him that I was going to visit a very sick friend. He, of course, knows me so well that when I told him where I was trying to go, he knew that wasn't the truth. He said, 'You're trying to go see Y/N by yourself.' At that point, I couldn't hide my smile when he said your name. He said, 'I knew it!' He was actually happy and said he will help me figure this out so that I won't get in trouble. Jensen"
"OMG! I could kiss him!" You chuckled
"But you won't, right? Jensen" Jensen was wondering if you might be interested in Jared from that comment.
"No, well maybe on the cheek if both him and Gen are ok with it. I like Jared and I think he's good looking but I don't mess with married men. However, I would take another hug from him. He gives amazing hugs! I wouldn't mind another hug from you too!" You say smiling remembering your photo ops and the hugs they gave you.
"I would gladly give you another hug!!! I also got the tickets ordered! Jay"
"I can't wait to get another hug from you!! So what time should I be at the airport?" You want to have it planned even though it's still a couple weeks away.
"The flight is scheduled for departure Wed Sept 5th at 7 pm. My flight will arrive about 4 pm so there will be an overlay. You can come hang out with me and we can make sure everything is situated so we're not rushed to catch our flight and this will give us and extra night in Pittsburgh if you're ok with that. The next flight to Pittsburgh from Springfield would have made us late for the convention. I had to book a room in a different hotel for the first night but Jared helped me with that so that we wouldn't get caught, lol. Jay"
"Sounds great, Jay! I'll switch my shifts around that week so I don't have to take more time off and I'll get there about 3:30 pm so I can greet you when you get off your flight. :)" You type excitedly.
"Awesome! I can't wait to see you, sweetheart! Jay" He typed it quickly and hit send so he couldn't change his mind. He hopes that you respond well to being called sweetheart.
"I really would love to chat with you all day long but I need to run to the store. I'll message you later if you want or you can just shoot me a message later. :)" You don't want to put too much pressure on either of you but you really would like to talk to him as much as you can.
"Ok, sweetheart. I'll talk to you later! Jay"
"Yes, I can't wait!! :) TTYL" You reply smiling.
You go do some grocery shopping. You put everything away when you got home. Then you plopped down on your couch and realized you were tired from all the running around and getting up so early. You decided to take a nap.
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