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kickingitwithkirk · 4 years ago

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Deuxième Omega: Part II

Summary: Jensen is not dealing well with his unexpected divorce and before the ink is even dry, he is pushed into another union with a complete stranger.

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Omega!OFC

Word Count: 2859

Warnings: A/B/O, angst, angry Jensen, cursing, illness, arranged marriage, divorces, talk of Alpha dominance over Omega, suspected eating disorder, past abuses, vehicle drama

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get this part out, my antique laptop decided to eat over 2,000 words and have had to piece back together from memory so hopefully it makes sense.

A/N II: There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles family. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional A/B/O verse.

Part I

*Supernatural doesn’t end in season 15 and some dates/events have been altered to fit the story.

*no beta, all mistakes are mine

The Next Day

Jensen waves his hand around again at that buzzing insect driving him crazy. He’s finally conscious enough to recognize the sound, it wasn’t a bug but his phone vibrating incessantly. Picking his head up and instantly regretting it starts patting around the bed for his phone.

“lo...”

“Are you still drunk?” A deep, honey-whiskey and way too damn loud for the morning voice barked at him.

“Jared?”

“No, fucking Misha.”

“Too early for your shit Jay...”

“Dude, it’s three-thirty in the afternoon.”

“WHAT!” Jensen yells sitting up too fast, the pain ricocheting throughout his head sends him flying off the bed, barely making it to the toilet before regurgitating everything he ingested last night. The toilet automatically flushes as he sits back against the bathtub groaning like a dying water buffalo.

“Really wish you'd hung up before sharing that,” Jared quips in a queasy voice, “I’m gonna regret this but Face Time me.”

Jensen cracked his eyes open enough to locate the button and tapping it Jared appears dressed in his running gear with a bandana holding his hair back. “No offense but you look like hammered shit. I was gonna call earlier but Gen threatened to have my left nut if I did.”

Jensen grunts and closes his eyes against the bright outdoor light emanating from the phone.

“Are you…” Jensen tunes him out for a minute then,“ ‘cause there’s something you need to know about, it’s really bad.”

He opens his eyes and it’s worse than he could have imagined going by the expression on Jared’s face.

“One of your clan sold you out, got it all on cellphone video, social media’s blowing up. Hell, even Fox News Channel picked it up.”

Jensen listens to the description of his expressions at the surprise traditional ceremony, his drunken stumbling around the reception with his new wife submissively following, his scoffing at the speeches during the reception and ignoring his silent, veil wife sitting next to him.

“My favorite bit was Alan and Josh carrying you out of the can.”

Jared's expression turned serious, “People are talking, we can't cover for you anymore. I got a text from higher ups cause no one could get hold of you for obvious reasons. PR’s gotta get ahead of this.”

“I’m a fuckup.”

“Yeah but we still love you. So, what's her name?”

Jensen licked his lips, biting the bottom one.

“Please tell me you know her name.”

“I..I don't even know what she looks like Jay.”

Jared ran his hand over his mouth, “The first thing you do is get up, take a shower and brush your goddamn teeth. Then you apologize, fucking supplicate yourself, to your new wife..unless you’ve already decided to put her aside.”

Jensen's head snapped up unbelieving that his friend, the man who was his brother in every way except blood, could think that of him.

“You really believe I could do that?”

Jared smiled, “No, you're too good of a man, an Alpha, to do that. I want you to remember one thing, in all this, she’s not the one who screwed you over.”

***

Jensen stepped out the shower forgoing shaving since the show was on a short break. He wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at this haggard expression and developing beer gut. I’ve got to get back on my exercise routine. Makeup and wardrobe could only mask so much.

Reaching for his bath kit he knocked a hand towel off the counter. Bending over to retrieve it he noticed a shoe with netting in the wastebasket. Pulling it out he saw a brown smear inside one of the heels, remembering how much trouble she had with them last night and made a mental note to inquire about her feet.

Washing his hands and searching through his kit realizing he’d forgotten his toothbrush. Opening on the cabinets he located the complementary ones. As he’s brushing Jensen sees another brush sitting in a glass by the other sink with a neatly folded hand towel and hanging washcloth.

Huh, she must have forgotten hers too.

Tossing his kit bag in the suitcase he dressed in a pair of well worn jeans and a T-shirt. Quietly entering the common area the curtains set open just enough for him to see her curled up on the couch, still in her wedding dress, asleep. He walked over to check on her when a knock at the door made her bolt upright.

“It's room service, I asked them to text so not to wake you.” He answered the door and had a brief word with the waiter who apologized, the ticket didn’t say not to knock. They deposited a coffee decanter, several covered dishes, bottles of water and left taking the cart with them.

Jensen sat down and before he could ask how she took her coffee, his wife scrambled off the couch and was kneeling at his feet, head bowed and hands folded in her lap.

“What are you doing?” He asked incredulously, having never seen anyone do this before.

“Awaiting you instructions Alpha.”

“Instruc...get up!” He gripped her upper arm, shocked at how far his fingers wrapped around it and helped her to the other chair. Sitting back down Jensen got his first look at his new wife.

Sleep tousled, dark blonde hair frame cheekbones overly prominent for the shape of her face, wide set eyes a blue-grey color with amber rings around the pupils. Her lips were full, the bottom lip slightly off center. She was not the Hollywood standard of beauty he was used to, and if compared to them, she’d only be considered moderately pretty.

“I was only doing what is expected…”

“Kneeling at my feet like an obedient dog!” He barked as she said, “..of the Omega.”

“What’s expected?”

“In the book..”

“Please look at me when speaking.” She raises her eyes but doesn’t meet his, “..it states that the Omega is subservient and the act of humbling ourselves shows respect for the Alpha, as is their due.’

Jensen sat back shocked, running both of his hands through his still damp hair, making it stand up to resemble a hedgehog. He was in over his head and, for one of the few times in his life, didn’t know what to do and the first person he would have turned to for advice had banned all communication.

He took a deep breath to refocus and leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs to look her in the eye, “I need you to forget what I said last night. I..I’m angry, feels like I..we..were ambushed by this situation. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, I’m sincerely sorry.”

“I don’t understand, are you apologizing to me?”

“It’s what people do when they’ve done something wrong and what I did was unforgivable. I want to make it up to you if you’ll let me and hopefully we can make a go of this.”

She looked at him dubiously but nodded once.

***

Jensen finished the last dregs of his coffee while packing, having decided to head back to Austin tonight. Clif had texted him he was ready whenever they were.

Sitting down on the bed he listened to the running shower and reaching his phone picked it up to start recording a video message.

He apologized for his atrocious behavior the last two years, asking the fans not to take it out on the show, this was all on him. To his coworkers for having to cover for him, they should have never been put in that position and if he had better character they wouldn’t have had too.

He next apologized to his family for his inexcusable behavior last night, which should have stayed private within their clan, and fully accepted his banishment by the clan leader, his father, for however long he deemed fit.

He lastly apologized to his new wife, they were irrecoverably tied together and he’d do whatever she demanded from him to make up for the horrendous treatment he’d shown her and hoped she’d give him a chance to make a go of their marriage.

He uploaded the video to his few online accounts and turned the phone off, wearily running a hand over his face. Getting up to take one last look he found his jacket from the wedding hanging in the closet.

Folding it he hears a crinkling noise and reaches into the inner pocket finding the marriage certificate. Tossing the jacket on the bed he unrolls the certificate reading his wife’s name Iseult.

“It’s pronounced Ee-sult Alpha.”

Jensen's head jerked up in surprise, “Hey, um, we're heading out as soon as you're ready.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll need you to button my dress Alpha.” She said repacking his bath kit she'd borrowed.

Jensen furrowed his brow, “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in something else, I mean, I’m telling you what to wear but it’s a three hour drive to my..our home.”

Iseult looked down playing with one of the pearlescent buttons, “When I married my hus..ex husband, our prenup stated that I only got what I had in my possession at the time. Apparently, he disposed of my things at some point,” she fanned out the shirt, “this dress, shoes and veil, your mother purchased them otherwise the media would have had a lot more to exploit at my..our expense Alpha.”

“Let me give you something of mine.”

“Anything of yours will swallow me, you're much more solid. There is a Walmart on..” she abruptly stopped at Jensen's raised eyebrow, “I’m sorry Alpha, I overstepped my place.” She bowed her head and hunched her shoulders, exuding the scent of fear as if she is expecting punishment from him.

What had happened to this woman to make her believe she should cower and gravel? Jensen manages to keep his anger in check, not wanting her to be more scared of him than she was, thinking who the hell is her ex-husband and what had he done to make her like this?

Jensen slowly walked behind her and gripping the fabric was once again dismayed at how prominent her shoulder blades were, his gut telling him her slenderness wasn't something natural.

As he fastened the buttons he spoke in the gentle voice he used when Jared's daughter Odette was upset, “If you can survive till tomorrow I’ll take you to get whatever you need.” She nodded once.

“Can I make one request Alpha?”

“You don’t have to request anything, just ask.”

“I have a prescription I need refilled, there’s a pharmacy on Wilmont, it’s on the way.”

He plucked the jacket off the bed and held it open, “Please, it's getting chilly.” She slid her arms into the sleeves and Jensen saw she was right about being swallowed. He put on his ball cap and headed out.

When they got off the elevators Jensen went deeper into the hotel. He stopped at an employees only entrance off the kitchen and knocked twice. A double knock answered and he pushed it open to reveal a waiting SUV. He introduced Clif and handed him the bag, taking it to the vehicle's rear and loaded it before getting back in.

The wind had started picking up ahead of the late autumn thunderstorm. Iseult grabbed her whipping hair in one hand and her skirt in the other as Jensen opened the back door.

“Iseult?”

“I was waiting for you Alpha, its proper etiquette.”

“I was raised it’s proper for a lady to enter first, please,” he held his hand out to her.

Iseult released her hair and hesitantly took his hand. Jensen felt a skittering sensation go up his spin as Iseult quivered, staring into his eyes as a whirling wind intermingled their scents, enthralling them.

Clif politely coughed, “We need to go before the bottom falls out.”

A tremendous thunderclap sent them scrambling into the car as the heavens let loose.

***

The trip to Austin was darker than usual, the weather slowing the drive back and with the incident at the pharmacy, Jensen still couldn’t believe it, refusing the prescription now that she was married to an Alpha, needing his verbal consent.

Clif interceded before he went off about the subjugation of Omegas in modern society, reminding him they were in predominantly conservative Texas, where this thinking was considered normal, not California.

Jensen glanced over to see Iseult staring out the window when his phone vibrated. Picking it up from the cup holder he saw a text from Josh.

>Jenny, know I’m not supposed to be in touch but call me!!! Need to know the shit going down here.<

Josh picked up on the first ring, “Man, all hell breaking loose. Your wife's ex didn't notify his clan that he was divorcing or remarrying her and they’ve filed an appeal with the Pack council to get her back.”

“We were married in the Traditional...”

“The fuck Jenny, did living in La La land make you forget everything? Your the second son of a clan leader, you know Pack law supersedes all federal, state and religious laws. They’ve dug up some obscure sub-clause that states a clan has first right to remarry an Omega within the clan and if they don’t whoever takes them must pay settlements.”

“What are settlements?”

“Has your brain fallen out of your ass? The bride price.”

“Josh, that's insane, it's 2020....”

“No shit Sherlock, but this is Texas. Fuck, dads back already. I’m gonna leave my phone on, keep your goddamn mouth shut or it's gonna be my ass too!”

Jensen can’t make out anything then his mother clearly says, “..they are asking what for her?”

“Ten million.”

“Your shitting me!”

“Joshua, language young man.”

“Five of it’s compensation for damages done to the Omega.”

“What damages? Jenny’s got a temper, what Alpha doesn’t, but he wouldn’t hurt anyone unless he was forced to.”

Alan cleared his throat in the manner Jensen had come to know that something’s making him uncomfortable. “It seems the Omega was..unsullied when she married her ex-husband.”

“Holy shit! You mean she’s never been with an Alpha before Jensen?”

“Joshua, I will not tolerate that language and we will absolutely not discuss your brothers new wife’s...virtue.”

Jensen hears the tinkling of glass, “Donna, did you know about any of this?”

“Well..no, of course not.” Her answer wasn’t very convincing.

“Donna, what are you not saying?” Alan’s Alpha voice resonated, he only used it when his mate was being evasive about something she’d done.

“When Danneel wasn’t willing to reproduce for Jensen I put out some feelers about finding him an Omega…”

“Jesus Fucking Christ! Even if it is acceptable for Jensen to have a second wife with Danneel being a Beta, he would never agree to it.”

“I’m not telling you again about your language. I might have, at one of my appointments, casually indicated to Brent that I wanted an Omega like his.”

Who the hell is this Brent?

“Wait, Brent Worthington?!”

Jensen dropped his phone. It smacked against his other hand turning on the speaker allowing everyone in the car to hear.

“Donna, have you any idea what you’ve done?”

“I never thought he'd actually offer her, they always seemed so happy together.”

“He took your casual indication as an actual offer for his wife. You do understand that while we have to deal with each other they are still our rivals.”

The Ackles and Worthingtons were two of the original founding clans of the Dallas Pack, and rivals for centuries. Iseult had been married to the only Beta son of Abraham, the Clans Alpha, like Alan.

Josh’s voice shook as he spoke, “Mom, if the council decides to return her do you have any idea what they’ll do if Jensen’s already mated and claimed her?”

There’s a ringing phone and Alan answered, his voice loud then faint, apparently pacing around the room.

In the SUV dim interior Jensen could see Iseult shaking, awaiting the decision.

“The council sided with the Worthington's stating the law…”

Jensen’s inner Alpha raged, loosening a wrawl causing Clif to jerk the wheel, swerving across the wet lanes, throwing Jensen against the seat in front of him, landing on the floorboard before the vehicle was under control and stopped on the shoulder. Twisting around he sees Clif opening the back door checking on Iseult while Alan’s voice filled the otherwise silent SUV.

“...but taking into consideration today’s social climate they came back with the final decision since she remarried another clan leader's son her status is unchanged, so if we send her back there’s no penalty for damages. If we choose to keep her, it’s five million due to the Omegas age.”

“What did you tell them dad?”

“I told them we were keeping her, I won’t be the cause of anymore upheaval in my son's life. However,” Alan’s voice turned hard, “the council has ordered additional financial penalties set against both clan leaders for the transgressions committed by their families.”

“How much?”

“I paid twenty-five million for a Deuxième Omega.”

tbc

SPN: @donnaintx

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

#alpha!jensen ackles x omega!ofc #alpha!jensen ackles #omega!ofc #alpha!jared padalecki #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #angst #alpha!jensen x omega

84 notes · View notes

punkscowardschampions · 3 years ago

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Liam & Edie

Liam: [a picture of Rio with her eyes crossed out like 1. Miss you and 2. Guess who I just talked to]

Edie: ofc she did 😑

Edie: what’s the damage

Liam: 0 to us I deflected the - to Lexie

Liam: do you want her framed for jumpscaring herself or is there anyone else

Edie: That’s all she cared about?

Edie: Bitch

Liam: it just didn’t take no time to convince her we’re perfect for each other

Liam: bc we are

Edie: yeah we are 🥰

Edie: surprised she copped to anything of the sort though

Edie: clearly can’t resist being nice to you

Edie: Lexie needs to calm down

Edie: 🤔 I mean, be kinda fucking hilarious if everyone reckoned she was doing it to herself

Edie: but maybe I’ve been too mean already 🥺

Edie: what do you think?

Liam: I think it’s pretty close to showing everyone her true colours if we do, Lex has gotta have been talking to your sister about me, I could tell, she thought I was a dick before I talked her round

Edie: She wouldn’t be happy for me unless you were a total 🤓 with no dick

Edie: that’s just what she’s like, crazy

Edie: but also not a stretch to see Lexie being a gossipy cow, I’ve heard her on other people before so

Edie: why would I give a fuck if her life is ruined

Liam: she basically accused me of wanting to hit you up for one reason and then wanting to immediately dip, if she thinks that’s what I’m like that’s only coming from one person

Edie: She’s pathetic

Edie: it’s clearly her saying it because you didn’t sleep with her

Edie: it wouldn’t be hard to spoof some shit, make it look like her

Edie: and she has nothing to say it was me, or you like she thought, and it weren’t no one else so she’s fucked, basically

Liam: [send her some shit that you’ve already started to work on because you knew she’d agree with this plan and the bits of the Rio convo where you said you’d try and find out and made it sound like you thought it was her but obvs it couldn’t possibly be hehe]

Edie: You’re so smart

Edie: She deserves this, she was definitely bitching about you, you can tell from how hard Rih said she weren’t

Liam: don’t be upset with me, but I was thinking about how Lexie also deserves to see us together and you happy and I invited them both to your show

Liam: you did say you want your family to take your music seriously

Edie: I’m not mad

Edie: You invited Rih too so she isn’t going to think you’re trying to get back with her

Edie: and I get to rub that and the fact I’m talented in her face?

Edie: It’s a good idea, baby

Liam: still, if you wanna create me in game and spend your time testing out different murder options, I won’t be mad, I should’ve asked you if it was a good idea before saying yeah to having us all there

Edie: [an 8-bit Liam but obvs we’re making an 8-bit us to smooch him not murder him, a lil gif moment of this or whatever it would be]

Liam: you only want a play through where we 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻

Edie: that might make the thread 🤮 but idk if they’d be 😱

Liam: we’ll keep it off thread

Liam: [send her the floor plan to where your dad lives/holiday cottages so she can build it in sims like my boo would, live your dreams kids]

Edie: don’t need to make 50k nerds jealous, I get you

Edie: [just nerd out with that]

Edie: I’ll show you how generic the 👶 is

Edie: very rude

Liam: if the mods and cc don’t fix it, I’ll pretend I don’t 👀

Edie: the 👀 are already insane colours

Liam: no match for yours in real life

Edie: [pics forever]

Edie: [obviously also make your enemies to actually kill and send that]

Liam: if you sent it to Lexie nobody’d believe she created herself looking that accurate

Edie: harsh reality of a sim

Edie: the alpha CC does look like her facetune attempts, tbf

Liam: at least you can make her try to seduce the grim reaper instead of me

Edie: she’ll have ample opportunity to meet him

Edie: [all the dramatic deaths cut with her sim when they get hysterical]

Edie: I’m still mad at her

Edie: Rih blatantly thinking it was me too, not surprising but still 🖕

Edie: how’s it been today

Liam: only bc she knows how smart you are and most people who Lex hangs out with ain’t, I barely had to cover for you so she don’t really wanna think it

Edie: story of her life

Liam: how 😡 are you

Edie: it’s exhausting being mad at her, there’s nothing to do

Edie: people like Lexie, you can fuck with, or care even less than that

Liam: would it make you feel better to fuck with Lexie more

Edie: I wanna make you feel better more

Edie: you must be feeling as bored and crazy as me, if not more

Liam: if I could feel anything it’d be 💔 you’re not happy or here

Edie: is it worse

Edie: nothing

Edie: maybe that’s stupid

Edie: nothing seems preferable sometimes but only sometimes, which is maybe what takes it over feeling too much

Liam: it’s isolating, everyone expects me to feel too much, that’s acceptable, even years after

Edie: acceptance would be easier

Edie: you have me

Edie: no matter what

Edie: idc if no one else gets me, you do

Liam: I dunno what it says about people that they’d be happy if I was going round punching holes in walls but I know my ma would

Liam: she looks at me like she’s waiting for it, watching for a massive crack or something

Edie: they’ve got their reason, they want the reaction

Edie: then they can link a and b and ???

Edie: problem solved, not really

Edie: but they understand it and can wash their hands of you

Edie: that’s what they give a shit about

Liam: yeah

Edie: enough sympathy and hot meals dropped off and you’ll be ‘fixed’

Edie: you weren’t even the sick one

Liam: get enough hobbies, a part-time job, a girlfriend, move the fuck on

Edie: right

Edie: it’s so

Edie: I can’t think of the word

Liam: “she’d want you to be happy/have a life” no she fucking wouldn’t, she wanted it for herself

Edie: dead people get sainted

Edie: no room for who they actually were, better and worse

Liam: she’d hate me having any of those things just to rub in her face

Edie: what was she like, between being sick

Liam: I’ll show you

Edie: do you reckon she’d want you to remember what she’d want for you then, instead of how she was at the end

Edie: not to be like every other cunt about it

Edie: not that simple, or at all

Liam: she was a teenage girl, she’d probably want me to do more fitting in too until I’ve completed the coming of age shite milestones everyone else is, instead of telling other teenage girls from the internet how fucked up I am 😏

Edie: I think that might be a milestone so 👏

Edie: the bullshit of your sister not having her own life to live dealt with then, in this scenario

Edie: we have to find what you want

Edie: even if that’s not 🤵👧🐶🧒👰 with me

Edie: not gonna be Lexie about it, you know

Edie: I’ll still help you find it

Liam: I want you, not to be gay about it

Liam: to see where this is gonna go, how far I can take it before it ends

Edie: then let’s do it

Edie: what can I do today

Liam: what would you be doing if you could do anything

Edie: that’s the problem

Edie: I wanna be with you

Edie: but I don’t know what we’d do yet

Liam: I said I’d show you what my sister was like, the quickest way to do it is to act like nothing matters, your behaviour has no consequences

Liam: it’s not about me at all, only what you want, what’s gonna happen

Edie: and I can’t hurt you

Edie: because you don’t feel anything yet, yeah?

Liam: you can’t hurt me

Edie: you promise

Edie: do that and then we can do what I want

Liam: how do you want me to promise

Edie: 🤏🩸

Edie: mine is 📫

Liam: [brb father he’s gotta go draw some blood and put it into something she can wear as jewellery like Angelina Jolie and record the endeavour to send to the bae]

Edie: [that’s exactly what we gonna send, I know you can legit buy them so I’ll find a cool pic tah, his poor father so confusion]

Liam: [great minds boo]

Edie: kiss it better for me

Liam: [send her another video boy we’re in this deep]

Edie: god

Edie: okay, what do you do to relieve stress, let go and let off steam

Edie: do that

Liam: what do I do or what should you, bc I have an idea that I think would make you feel better about your sister

Edie: you can start by telling me what I should do because I’m intrigued

Liam: she said she’d lose it at Lexie if she did anything to you, if you lower your IQ by at least 100 you could have fun trashing her room but making it look like she did it herself to frame you, you’d have to wait til she was forced out with her family and bc there’s no check in or selfie proof everyone would just think they’re covering for her, but that’d be the only boring bit

Liam: your sister would feel bad for falling for it and believing you might be involved at all

Edie: I definitely don’t want to see her at mine ever again

Edie: I’ll do it

Edie: Bet she has a shrine to you

Liam: a curse would explain me being dead inside

Edie: she has no ✨

Edie: so whilst I’m ripping the heads off all her 🧸s

Edie: you’ve gotta do…

Liam: 🏊 the only thing there is to do

Edie: your da didn’t come prepared? 🔥🪓

Liam: he’d be prepared with a 🧯 more like but I don’t need his help 🔥🪓

Edie: you should see if anyone is around, like anywhere

Edie: see how easy it is to 👀 them without getting caught

Liam: it’s like you know me inside out

Edie: I do

Edie: I’ve got X-Ray 👀s

Liam: next time you miss me you can do an artistic rendering

Edie: of all your vital organs

Edie: not to kill the mystery and show myself up as a fake fan on the forums

Edie: but I think the outside view of you is a lot prettier 😳🥰

Liam: ok I’ll not send you any in the 📫

Edie: only the non-vitals, tah 😏

Liam: what’s left Alexis hasn’t got in her shrine

Edie: she 🥺 so hard you gave her your gallbladder

Liam: 10% risk of shitting myself side effects after it’s gone, 100% chance of that putting her off wanting to jump me, I’d do it

Edie: no need to do that now I’m here

Edie: no one is gonna wanna jump her when she’s outed as 😵🥴🤡

Liam: I’ll keep the scalpel sharp for lads who wanna get with you when they realise you’re 🤩🤓😎😇😈

Edie: I’m not complaining

Edie: I only want you around, ever

Liam: I’ll be going nowhere without you ever when I get back

Edie: Good

Edie: because I feel like

Edie: it’s like I’m doing so much to fill my time but I still just think about and miss you constantly

Liam: I’ll climb a tree and call you from the top

Edie: Describe your view the best you can

Edie: like I’m there too

Liam: facetime’ll make you feel like you are

Edie: not quite VR but I’ll take it

Edie: talking to you feels like our own 🪐 anyway

Liam: [do climb a tree and call her because what a mood just like you’re Elizabeth Allen]

Edie: [save that tree henny]

Liam: [do we wanna skip to his bday now or is there anything else you can think of that you wanna do while he’s still away?]

Edie: [hmm, we probably know the vibe, she’s busy with all the things they’re gonna continue when he’s back, also finding the first house they can break into and stay in, fucking with Lexie loads more]

Liam: [yeah and if we do think of anything specific later we can skip back it’s chill]

Edie: [let’s do it]

2 notes · View notes

jocazep · 5 years ago

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In The Whole Wide Train | Chapter 9

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Synopsis: Having grown up in the Front Sections of the Snowpiercer, you venture down the train when a rare opportunity presents itself, but the excursion quickly changes flavor when you arrive in the Tail Section.

Author’s notes: Smut in this chapter! My first smut so please be gentle LOL.

Taglist: Now Closed

Series Masterlist

Chapter Nine - Washing Up

“Do you know if we got any soap for trading?” Edgar asked Curtis as they stood outside Gilliam’s quarters, waiting for Jo to finish her meeting with Gilliam. Around them, the dimly lit tail-section buzzed on with ordinary routines and shenanigans.

“Why? Are you taking after Jo’s habit?”

“Oh, oh no... Just, I thought it’d be nice to give her a welcome gift...” Edgar’s voice traced off.

Curtis scratched his head through the beanie. “Yeah check with the back lot, I think the going rate is three protein blocks for a half-bar.”

“That’s stiff man. I only have a third of a block. What’d ya reckon I can get for that?”

The rhythmic clicking of the train cut through Curtis’ reverie. He focused his eyes back to the present. They had won. Mason was still locked in his chock hold, Grey had more or less subdued Franco Sr, and Franco Jr. had dropped the knife from his hand.

But as Curtis took in the brutal consequences of the victory, his eyes found you hunched over Edgar who was lying prostrate on his back. You had both your hands on Edgar’s side, desperately trying to stop the bleeding with pressure. But foamy blood was gushing out, staining your hands, your face, and your clothes in an alarming scarlet.

Curtis didn’t need to look at Edgar to know that there was no saving him. He knew he had to carry the heavy burden of Edgar’s life on his shoulders the moment he chose to go after Mason. But you...you still hadn’t accepted it.

Wiping your face with the back of your hand, you whisper to Edgar as you tightened his overcoat around the wound and began to perform CPR.

“Stay with me, Edgar, stay with me. It’s ok. It’s ok.”

You thought back to Doris. To Timmy. To Andrew. To Yuna. But you pushed all thoughts from your mind but one--he’s not dying on your watch.

Curtis could hear your voice breaking, and it was all he could do to keep himself from wrapping you in his arms. But he looked back at the section in the wake of battle, and gritting his teeth, walked on to tend to the latest POWs.

You were running on autopilot. Pumping Edgar’s chest and breathing into his mouth, as if doing so would transport some of your life force into him. It wasn’t until Gilliam ambled up next to you, and placed his hand on your blood-drenched hands, that your brain began to process it all.

Your hands stopped, still quivering. You held your breath as well, forcing the visceral pain down with the pocket of air in your lungs. You were scared that if you breathed out, you would break and there would be no putting you back together. And you couldn’t afford that.

But there was nothing to say. His own hand trembling, Gilliam took your hand and guided you to close Edgar’s lifeless eyes. Sometime later, Curtis finished chaining up the POWs, and stumbled back to you and Edgar. A thump as his knees hit the floor next to you, his mind equally numb with pain. Taking heavy breaths, he pulls off his beanie, a last salute to his closest friend.

“Survivors, wash yourselves,” Gilliam’s voice came out strained, and raspy as usual, but it jolted you back to the present. As Curtis gulped back tears, he watched you stagger to your feet, hand and face caked in dry blood.

“The water supply section. Wash away the blood.“

The hours flew by as you lost yourself in cleaning and treating the wounded revolters, letting the rush of triage flood your mind and drown out the whatever pain, guilt, and self-doubt marinating inside your head.

Meanwhile, Curtis found himself chaining Mason to a water pipe in the furnace room, his rage slowly finding its way back after the grief and pain started wearing off.

“It’s Wilford you want, not me!” Mason was practically another person the minute she felt steel against her skin.

“Call him, see if he’ll come save you.“ Curtis heard himself say. It was a different kind of rage within him, calmer, surer, more deliberate, “We’ll rip you into pieces, he still won’t come?”

“He won’t leave his engine.”

“Well we control the water. We turn that off, he’ll have to come.”

“Turn off the water? Well you’ll only be condemning your own people. The water comes from front.” Mason’s eyes glimmered, finding a last shred of hope in the information she possessed.

“The nose of the train, it breaks up the snow and ice, and turns it into water!”

Curtis felt his confidence slipping. As Mason droned on about the front of the train being an elephant’s trunk, he turned to Tanya and whispered, “get Jo.“

When your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness of the furnace room, you saw Curtis holding a knife to Mason’s neck.

“Curtis!” You rushed over and placed your hand on the blade, afraid that Curtis might kill Mason in the heat of fury.

“You keep his name out of your mouth, or you can fucking die.” Curtis was almost too angry to hear you.

“Curtis! Stop it!” Your hand pulled on the blade harder.

Mason’s eyes shifted from Curtis to you, regarding you and turned back to Curtis.

“Just as hot blooded as they say you are.”

You felt Curtis’ hand waver as he took in Mason’s remark, and slowly drew the knife from his grasp.

“Yes, we know you well, mister Curtis Everett. And you, Jo--”

You level the blade back to Mason’s neck.

“I can help you! I can help you! Wilford is not coming, you’ll have to go to the front, and I can take you! I can guarantee you safe passage!”

“You would betray your benevolent Wilford?“ You stared down at Mason, who held your gaze for a beat. A silent negotiation taking place between the two of you.

“I know the train. I know things you don’t.”

“Why the fuck would we trust you?” Curtis interjected. He still thought this was about the revolt.

“Because I want to live.”

You were dumbfounded by the sheer cheek of her. Was this really the same Mason that you knew before all this started?

The room was equally quiet. Who doesn’t want to live?

---

Night fell soon after. Things quieted down as both revolters and the invisible front-sectioners retired for the night.

Curtis and Gilliam arranged for patrols to guard the water section, and joined the revolters in the section that hours ago was an inferno of blood and fire. They were discussing whether to push ahead when Curtis realized that you were missing.

“Have you seen Jo?”

Gilliam shrugged, “I suppose she’s still in the water section, tending to the wounded. She’s taken it quite hard, after Edgar.”

Curtis found you sitting next to Edgar in the water section, hugging your knees close to your chest. You thought after all that you’ve been through, you would be too tired to feel, but you were wrong. You were feeling all right. There was a throbbing pain running along your right side, but you no longer cared.

You were too busy hating yourself. You hated yourself for not being able to save Edgar. You hated yourself for letting Mason talk you into sparing her life. You hated yourself for doing the math and deciding to put a wall around your grief instead of dealing with it. You hated that your eyes were completely dry.

“Hey...” Curtis squatted down next to you, his voice low and careful.

You turned your head from Curtis, and pushed yourself up. “I’m fine. I just need to, uh..., check on Bertie, he’s wounded pretty bad--”

“Jo.” Curtis caught up with you, his broad shoulders blocking your escape route. For the first time since the fight, he had a good look at you, and quickly realized that your clothes were covered in blood stains, some scarlet, others turning brown.

“Curtis, seriously I’ve gotta--”

“It’s OK. I’m here.”

You look up at him. “What?”

“I’m here.” Curtis wrapped his arms around you, and rested his chin on your head. “It’s OK.” His voice reverberated through his chest, slowly thawing the fragile barrier you put up. But it somehow felt safer, warmer, and you closed your eyes.

And the tears finally came.

When you were eventually all cried out, Curtis cupped your head in his hand, and murmured, “Let’s get you washed up.”

You nodded against his chest, and let him lead you towards the showers. The communal space was empty as everyone else had taken their wash already. After showing you how the water worked, Curtis left to wait outside, but soon a pained gasp from you sent him running back in.

“What is it?” Curtis found you mid-motion, trying to remove your blood-soaked coat.

“I think I cracked a rib...I can’t lift my right arm...”

No further explanation was needed. “Turn around.”

You did, and Curtis peeled off the coat, the water running in the shower the only sound echoing within the otherwise empty space.

Your silk shirt was next. What am I doing? You thought to yourself, but caught in the trance, you unbuttoned the front, and Curtis gingerly slid it off you, revealing the fading bruise from the guard’s rifle butt that now seemed a million years ago.

“Does it still hurt?” His voice was raspy and made you very self-conscious in your underwear and jeans.

“Not as bad as it did before.” You replied, keeping your voice as you could manage, fully aware of the tension between you.

Curtis shifted his eyes to your jeans. “Can you...”

You tried reaching down, but the blinding pain pierced into your right side, making you gasp as your legs wobbled. Curtis stepped up behind you, catching you by the arms and steadied the two of you, now standing unsustainably close to each other.

The room was getting foggy with the hot water running. You could hear Curtis swallow before he spoke, “Careful.” His breath swept past the back of your very naked neck, sending your stomach into knots.

He lifted his hands away from your arms to hover near your hips, but not quite touching you. You could feel the warmth radiating from his hands as you ached for more of his touch.

There was nothing Curtis wanted more than to pull these pants off of you and run his hands over every inch of your body. But he waited, his hands determined not to touch you until you gave a signal of what you wanted.

“What?” You willed yourself not to turn around.

“Are you sure about this?”

There was no reply. Instead, you took Curtis’s right hand in yours, and guided him to pop open the button on your jeans. That was all the signal Curtis needed. His warm hands ran down your hips, pulling your soiled jeans down, his fingers grazing your skin all the way down to your ankles.

You could feel the tension pooling at your core as you lifted one foot out of your crumpled jeans, and with the other foot, flicked them aside.

Curtis felt his hardness increasing as he straightened himself up half way, and traced his fingers lightly around the faded bruise on your back. You gasped out of surprise and pleasure as you felt his fingers trace upwards along your spine, ending up on your shoulder, where they were replaced by his lips.

You tilted your head, feeling the friction of his beard along the crook of your neck, light moans escaping your mouth, your uninjured arm reaching up to push off his beanie and run your fingers along his buzzed hair. Curtis’s hands were equally busy, flinging off his coat into a pile of grey and black on the floor.

You turned around to watch as he finally discarded his many layers of old sweaters and shirts, his muscled chest heaving, his toned arms pulling off his pants, and oh god--that bulge in his boxers. It was positively throbbing as you laid eyes on it.

“Hello.” You couldn’t help the wise-ass inside you as you took one step. Then another, and another, slowly closing the distance, watching Curtis’ eyes grow darker with lust, feeling your own heart pounding until you were close enough to notice the tiny specks of gold scattered in his sea-grey eyes.

Curtis reached down, capturing your lips in a fiery kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as his arms wrapped around your figure, pressing you close to his body, his cock hard against you. You turn into putty in his arms, hanging on by your left arm hooked around his neck as your right arm roamed his stomach, exploring his abs by drawing circles around, making his erectness pulse inside the thin fabric. But as you reached down, Curtis stopped you.

“Not yet, baby.“

One hand holding you tight by the waist, and the other one cupped on your left breast, he walked the two of you towards the shower, until your back made contact with the moist wall of tiles. The coolness of the tiles, in stark contrast with the warmth from Curtis made for a strange yet wonderful sensation. Thank god for the running water, or your wetness would be quite noticeable as it soaked through your panties.

Curtis broke off the kiss, and trailed his lips down, past your heaving breasts, down your stomach, before resting his face between your legs.

“What are you--Ooooooh Curtis...” Your voice echoed loudly in the shower room as he ran his thumb across your core, pressing it into your clit. You look down to see the most imperceptible smile on his face as he slid your underwear off and lifted your right leg onto his shoulder.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his tongue met your dripping pussy, lapping up your juices as he sucked, sending you waves of ecstasy as his tongue explored your core.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Curtis all but commanded. And you were eager to comply as your hips rocked in tandem with his strokes, moans of pleasure tumbling out of your mouth as Curtis added his fingers to his attack, rubbing and pushing your sensitive lips. Your walls tightened as you felt Curtis’s tongue enter, and your hands flailed for balance as your knees buckled at the new high, before Curtis snaked his free arm up, grabbing your breast and steadying you against the moist tiles while his tongue and finger worked together to send your juices flowing.

“Curtis I’m gonna come--“

“You like that, baby?” he hummed into you. You nodded and squirmed as you felt your climax approaching, pressing your hips into his face.

“Yes, Curtis, just like that, I’m gonna come---” The wave of high washed over your entire body, your hips shaking and your pussy clenching as Curtis quickening his pace through your climax.

It was all you could do not to collapse as you came down from your orgasm. Curtis stood up, and you grabbed his face to catch his mouth in a sloppy wet kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as the running water soaked both of you, washing away your fatigue. As the two of you entwined, you pushed off his boxers, and took in his girth. There’s nothing you wanted more than for it to fill you and make you come again.

“Fuck, Jo.” Curtis breathed out as you finally took his shaft into your hands, stroking it despite of its hardness. You tried to bend down and return the favor, but the sharp pain in your side screamed in protest.

“It’s OK, it’s OK baby,” Curtis helped you back up, and stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you, his right hand cupping your breast, and his left raising two fingers near your mouth, “Just suck on these for me.“

You held out your tongue, slobbering his fingers in your mouth before sucking and pulling away with a faint pop.

“That’s so hot,” Curtis whispered against your ear as his right thumb played with your hardened nipple, and his shaft rubbed against your wetness, making you moan and squirm in his hold.

“Are you ready?” Curtis lined the head of his cock at your entrance. You nodded, your entire body yearning for him to be inside you.

And what a sensation that was. Both of you groaned as Curtis’s cock pushed inside you. Curtis could feel your walls tight and warm around his cock, jerking him off. The strokes were slow and deliberate at first, each one going deep into you from behind, making you call out Curtis’s name in pleasure. The water, mixed with your juices, mixed with Curtis’s precum, ran down your legs as the rhythmic echoes filled the room.

Soon you felt the coil in your stomach building as Curtis picked up the pace, sending ripples in your body as he pounded into you. Mesmerized by the moaning figure in front of him, Curtis felt your pussy tighten around him, and gritted his teeth in concentration. It’s been a while, a long while since he’s had any sex, so he’s really sensitive, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get this right. He wrapped one arm around, capturing your clit between two fingers, while his other arm held you closer to him.

“Oh go--You’re gonna make me come if you keep--“ You all but cried out as he rubbed your clit, his lips latching onto your ears and neck, his cock drilling into you.

“Come with me, baby.“ Curtis’s breathing became labored as well, as his own pleasure began to crescendo. He walked the two of you into the tiled wall, your back arched, your breast against the wetness, your hips clasped in Curtis’s hands.

“Like that, just like that, Curtis.” You felt your pussy twitching as his wet cock slid in and out of you, quicker and quicker, each stroke hitting your sweet spot. Curtis laid his head on your shoulder, his own moaning mixing with yours as you pushed your left hand against the wall for balance.

“Baby I’m close.“ He entwined his fingers with yours, his right hand returning to your swollen clit as he picked up the speed “I want to you come with me. Can you come with me?”

“Yes...Yes! Curtis, yes!“ You feel waves of pleasure shooting through you as he buried his face in your neck, his dick stretching your walls, his fingers taking your clit to the limit. You could hold on no longer--your legs started shaking, your pussy clenched down on his cock, and your entire body shook as the orgasm came crashing down on you, taking Curtis right over the limit as well.

As his cock twitched inside you, he caught your lips and kissed you deeply, both of you catching your breath. The warm water raining down on you as you lingered on this fading ecstasy, trying to make it last before returning to the cruel world beyond.

---

After you eventually did the actual washing up and got dressed again--Curtis had to go back to the Protein Block section to borrow Paul’s clothes again, since your own clothes were practically soaked in blood--the two of you tiptoed back to your sleeping spots.

Lying on his coat, with your head cushioned on his chest, Curtis remembered snippets of his conversation with Gilliam: “It’s much better to hold a woman with two arms, don’t you think?” But this really wasn't just any woman, was it. This was you. He looked down at you and held you tighter. You didn't look up--she must have drifted off, Curtis thought as he buried his nose in your hair and stole a quick kiss.

You, however, were quite awake. After Curtis's breath evened, and his heartbeat slowed down, you looked up at the sleeping man, tracing his long-lashed-eyes, his well-defined nose, and his soft-pillow lips with your gaze. An entirely different conversation was haunting you:

“When the time comes, don’t let anyone stand in your way, not the tail-sectioners, not Gilliam, not even Mason. You’ve gotta learn to make some difficult decisions, my child,” Wilford looked at you with his piercing blue eyes, “for one day this train will be yours to run.”

Taglist: @torntaltos @emmalbg @ajosieface

#curtis everett #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett x reader #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #Snowpiercer #snowpiercer fanfic

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buckybarnesappreciationsociety · 7 years ago

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“I Can’t Do This Without You” Part 1

Summary: The Barnes family is shaken to the core by Y/N’s cervical cancer diagnosis. This series chronicles their struggles and after care.

Word Count: 1,767

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

OFC: Izzy, S.J (Steven James), Tony, Sam. Steve, Clint, Nat, Wanda, Bruce, Dr. Cho, Dr. Patricia Traver.

Warning: Discussions about menstrual cycle and cervical cancer.

A/N: Any form of cancer is devastating and I am NOT making light of anyone. I was diagnosed with a cancerous ulcer that spread to my cervix, uterus and fallopian tubes at 24 years old. The doctor froze the cells before they spread further. I’ve had 2 surgeries to remove the aforementioned female parts. The downside to having a hysterectomy is menopause. I experienced it at 24 and it was pure hell!!!!! To anyone who has a relative, friend, or themselves are dealing with cancer, I’m praying for their or your recovery.

Y/N Barnes became alarmed when her menstrual cycle became heavier than normal and coupled with excruciating pain. She didn’t waste any time making an appointment with her gynecologist and longtime friend, Dr. Patricia Travers.

What she wasn’t prepared for were the findings of the transvaginal ultrasound (TVUS) and CA-125 blood test. The findings shook Y/N to the core.

Cancer.... cervical cancer, stage 3. Y/N felt the color drain from her face and the air from her lungs. She started hyperventilating. Dr. Travers coached her through breathing exercises. After her she calmed down, Y/N sobbed as she held onto her friend like a lifeline.

At home, Bucky helped S.J. prepare for soccer practice. Sam volunteered to drop him off at the field.

With time to spare, Bucky turned on the t.v., grumbling about some reality show. Glancing at his phone, no call from Y/N. Of course, the first thing came to mind was HYDRA.

Noticeably upset, Bucky pressed speed dial #2 for Y/N’s phone, he practically lost it when Patricia answered.

“Pat, where’s Y/N? Why are you answering her phone?” The tightness in his chest restricted breathing.

“Hey James. Y/N is here in my office. Would you come down ASAP? We have some news and she wants you here.”

Already upset, Bucky hung up, running down the corridor shouting for Steve.

“Hey Stevie!!! I need ya.” Bucky bellowed.

Stumbling to his bedroom door, Steve was taken aback by Bucky’s urgency.

“Buck, what’s going on? Jeez you scared the shit out of me.” His disheveled hair indicated Nat was over.

Out of breath, Bucky nervously tried to explain the news he’d received. Shocked, Steve agreed to pick-up S.J. from practice and take him out for burgers and a chocolate shake.

“Thanks pal. I gotta get to Y/N. Just don’t say anything to S.J.”

Taking two steps at a time, Bucky ran to his car. Running a few traffic lights, his mind was a jumbled mess. “What the hell is wrong with my Doll?”

Coming to a screeching halt, the unsettled super soldier almost punched a hole in the elevator wall because it was moving too slow.

Finally reaching the 14th floor, he made a mad dash for Dr. Traver’s office. Once inside, the receptionist ushered him in the back, where Y/N and Patricia were waiting.

When the door opened, Y/N threw herself into Bucky’s waiting arms. Patricia thought it best to leave them alone. This was too much to fathom all at once. Y/N needed her husband for morale support.

Gripping his blue henley, Y/N found it difficult to form a sentence. “L-let’s sit down.”

“You’re scaring me doll. Please tell me what’s going on!” Tears welled up in his cerulean eyes.

Taking a sip of water, “I have Stage 3 cervical cancer Buck. Oh god, I can’t believe it.”

The salty liquid streamed down his chiseled jaw. Unable to speak, Bucky simply held his wife, as they cried together.

After 15 minutes, Dr. Travers entered the room, sitting behind her desk.

“I know this is a lot to take in, but there are options. We would do what’s called a radical hysterectomy and oophorectomy. The hysterectomy will remove the uterus and tissue fibers; the cervix and maybe an inch or 2 of your vagina. Also, your ovaries would be removed as well. After surgery, if we find anymore cancer cells, a low dose of chemotherapy will be administered.”

Bucky gasped as Dr. Travers showed them on a model of the female reproductive system what would be removed.

Shifting in her chair, Y/N held Bucky’s hand. “Pat, what will I become? I’m not having anymore kids, but I don’t want to feel as if I’m not a whole woman.”

“Y/N, you’ll still be a whole woman without your reproductive organs. After you’re healed, I don’t see why the surgery would dampen your sex life.”

“I don’t care about that sweetheart, all I want is my wife healthy and cancer free. I’ll be with ya through it all.” Bucky lovingly held Y/N’s trembling hand.

As Y/N gazed into Bucky’s’ eyes, her lip trembled, as she mouthed ‘thank you’

“Um doc, how soon will she need surgery?,” Bucky inquired.

“I’m not going to sugar coat anything. The sooner, the better.” Dr.Traver’s was forthright with her answer.

Inhaling sharply, Y/N mentioned Izzy and finals. “Izz is taking end of semester finals. We’ll wait until she’s home and talk then.”

“Alright. Today’s Wednesday. When will she finish her finals?”

“On Friday evening. James and I will talk to everyone at the same time.”

“I’ll wait for your phone call. Just know, this is serious. The sooner we get in and remove the cancerous cells, your chances will be higher to avoid chemo.”

Standing from his chair, Bucky thanked Dr. Travers. Helping Y/N steady herself, they thanked their friend and headed towards the car.

“I love you so much James. You’re home to me.” Y/N held Bucky’s flesh hand.

“Dollface, I’ll be right by your side through all of this; so will the team.”

Wiping her face, “How are we gonna handle this? Everyone needs to know.”

“What about a family meeting? Izzy and S.J.’ll need a strong support and they have that. How about Saturday afternoon?” Bucky nodded ‘yes.’

When Bucky pulled up to the Tower, he and Y/N attempted to calm themselves for the sake of S.J. and the team.

From the garage to inside should be an easy 3 minute jaunt. To Bucky and Y/N, their steps were marred by today’s report from Dr. Travers.

The weight proved heavy on Y/N’s shoulders and her tears flowed like heavy raindrops. Bruce, Nat, Wanda, Clint, Tony, and Vision were in the common room debating some stupid game show.

Wanda felt pain radiating from Y/N. She stopped talking and pulled her into a hug. Everyone else didn’t know what to make if the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Tony quipped, “Hey Popsicle, what’s going on?”

Sitting on the plush sofa, Y/N and Bucky prepared to tell the team. The pain evident on Bucky’s face, he held his wife close.

“I have Stage 3 cervical cancer. I’m having surgery before the end of the month.”

Nat didn’t try to stop the tears; neither did Tony and Wanda. Bruce and Clint were numb.

Y/N laid out what type of surgery she’d have and impending chemotherapy if all the cells aren’t removed.

“Listen, we don’t wanna tell the kids yet. Izz is taking finals and S.J. needs to focus on his studies and soccer game. I’ll tell Steve and Sam, just not right now.” Bucky choked back tears.

Tony was adamant about ensuring Bucky and Y/N will have everything needed for after care. “You and Bucky concentrate on the surgery. I’ll handle after care. Whatever it takes you’ll have. I’ll have contractors come in and turn two rooms into a medical suite, complete with chemo equipment and anything else.”

Y/N pulled Tony into a hug. She and Bucky were overwhelmed by his gesture.

Tony and Bruce excused themselves and headed to the medical bay. Dr. Cho was briefed. She sprang into action researching all Y/N would need after surgery.

Clint, Nat, and Wanda pulled Bucky and Y/N into a group hug.

Wanda pulled Y/N into a hug. “Me and Nat are here for you always.” Nat nodded ‘yes’.

Clint patted Bucky on the shoulder. The distraught super soldier nodded as he and Y/N headed to their apartment.

*************************

Y/N sat on the sofa, patting the space next to her. With a heavy heart, Bucky joined her.

“James, please hear me out. In case something hap-” Bucky abruptly stood, covering his ears.

“STOP IT!!! I’M NOT GONNA LISTEN TO THIS! WE’RE GONNA GROW OLD TOGETHER. SEE IZZY GRADUATE COLLEGE AND S.J. GRADUATE HIGH SCHOOL!!”

Reaching out for his hand, Y/N tried to calm Bucky down. “Baby, please. I need to get this out. Come sit with me please.”

Bucky slumped down on the sofa, holding his head. He openly sobbed. Y/N rubbed his back. “Doll, I wouldn’t be able to do this without ‘ya. It’s unreal baby. You can’t leave me. Please don’t leave me,” he begged.

Laying his head on Y/N’s lap, she gently ran her fingers through his hair. “Babe, IF it happens, Izzy and S.J. will need you more than ever. Please try to stay strong for them. Please James, stay strong for our kids. Promise me.”

“I promise dollface.”

Y/N heard S.J, Steve and Sam return. Bucky went to the bathroom and washed his face. Trying to hide behind the pain with a forced smile.

“Hey mom, guess what? Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam took me for a burger and chocolate shake. It was so cool. We had fun!”

Bucky greeted S.J. with a hug. “Hey buddy. Did’ya have a good time after practice?”

“Yep. I’m full. Uncle Steve ate more than me and Sam. You should’ve been there.”

************************************

Sam didn’t say anything but he knew something was off. “Hey Buck, wanna join me and Steve for a drink or three?”

“Go on sweetheart. Maybe you can find where Thor hid the Asgardian mead.” Y/N stood up and kissed Bucky.

Pushing them out the door, Y/N turned her attention to S.J. He was so excited about soccer practice, his next game and spending the afternoon with his uncles.

Sam, Steve, and Bucky went to the rooftop to talk.

“Hey Barnes, what’s going on man? You look like you’ve lost your best friend.” Sam wondered.

“Y/N has Stage 3 cervical cancer.” Before he could finish, tears rolled once more. Bucky had no idea he cried so much! He was devastated.

Sam was enraged. “Shit shit shit!” His hurt led to anger. He flipped over 3 chairs and a table.

Steve put his arm around Bucky as they cried together.

Once the anguish died down, Bucky asked his friends not to mention it around S.J. When Izzy comes home for fall break, they’ll get everyone together and tell them.

Steve and Sam vowed to be there for him, Y/N and the kids.

Life is a precious commodity, so cherish it while you can. Tomorrow’s not promised to anyone!

@omalleysgirl22 @rebelslicious @pegasusdragontiger @magellan-88 @shy2shot @papi-chulo-bucky @bolontiku @beyondbarnes @goodnightwife @this-kitty-has-claws @not-moose-one-shots @buckyohh @captnbarnesrogers@sgtjamesbuchananbarnes107th @supersoldierslover @irene-rogue-adler @3brosangel @promarvelfangirl @theimpossibleg1rl

#this is serious #family and friends #support network #praying for a cure #i'm praying for you

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concussed-to-pieces · 8 years ago

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Kitten; Part Ten

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Jon Moxley[Dean Ambrose]/Unnamed OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Happy Thirst Party Saturday everyone! Tagging our finest, @tox-moxley, @hardcorewwetrash, @oraclegazes, @actualamyautopsy and @iwannadiehere. Enjoy!

The worry started setting in about a week before Valentine's Day. She never wore pants to bed. Shit, she hardly ever wore anything to bed and now all of a sudden she was wearing more clothes than a nervous bride. To say he was confused would be an understatement.

“Kitten? Y’ gettin’ sick again or somethin’?” He asked finally after the third night of this new…interest in long sleeves and sleeping pants and the whole ‘not being naked beside him’ thing. Which wasn’t that big of an issue, really it wasn’t. They were both adults and if she wanted to wear clothes to bed that was definitely her right. It was just…it was a deviation from the norm and that was always a little scary for him.

She didn’t necessarily look guilty, but she sure as shit was cagey about the subject. “I’ve been kind of chilly.”

That was it. That was all he got. And hell, he wanted to press the matter, but at the same time he didn’t want to be that guy. So he just shut his mouth, accepted his good morning kiss (that he was still pretty sure he didn’t deserve) and headed in to work as usual. He was a good boyfriend and refrained from asking the questions that might make her upset.

Simple Mox, good Mox.

...

Callihan of all people was the one to suggest he ‘tidy up’ for Valentine's Day, wiggling his eyebrows at Moxley in a way that made Jon want to wallop him. “Chicks ain’t into body hair anymore, man. Ya’ chest is literally revolting. I would know.” Callihan gestured at his own hairless torso. “Keep a little bit of the trail, sure. Give ‘er somethin’ to follow. But get rid of that fuckin’ pelt. Trust me. She’ll be all over ya’.”

“The last time I trusted ya’ fuckin’ scrawny ass I got beaned in the back of my fuckin’ skull with a steel chair.” Mox snorted with laughter, unable to keep it in when Sami looked let down. “Fuckin’ douche, tryin’ to kill me and shit.”

“I didn’t know the chick had a boyfriend, man. Will ya’ let it go?” Sami groaned. “I said I was sorry an’ everythin’.”

Mox rubbed a hand thoughtfully over the stubble that plagued his face daily. “I don’t think she cares, Callihan. I mean, I’ll take it under…advisory or whatever th’ fuck, but I’m pretty sure she don’t care?” Mox's voice rose at the end of its own accord, turning his previously firm statement into a question. A doubt, starting to worm its way in. “Why would she care?”

“Hey I’m jus’ sayin’, man. It never hurts to at least look like ya’ makin’ an effort.” Sami pointed out.

Jon’s eyes narrowed. “Shit.” He said finally. “I always look like a damn hobo next t’ her, man. D’ya think that would help?”

Callihan shrugged. “Special occasion, ain’t it?”

…

This was a goddamn terrible idea. Shit, he didn't even know if she wanted this or not. He didn't really want to ask, either. How much of a fucking jackass would he look like if he just walked up to her, opened his mouth and said something like, “hey babe, sugarplum, apple of my eye, you ever thought about me not looking like a stray dog for once?” The wild idea of him pulling off being a dashing son of a bitch haunted him, especially while looking like that guy from the cover of that book he definitely wasn't supposed to know she had stashed in her nightstand.

She was still wearing the damn pants to bed. Shit, she wasn't even letting him put his hands in said pants anymore, usually rolling over or catching his hands and kissing his knuckles in that way that made him melt.

Finally, early in the morning on the fourteenth, after Callihan daring him for half the damn night in between fights and at least seven shots of Jack Daniels lining his empty stomach, Mox sacked the fuck up and walked into the twenty-four hour Walgreens down the street from the CZ. He'd mopped himself off a little so he wasn't a total bloody mess, just an emotional mess. He didn't know when this had turned into such a big fucking deal (but he was relatively certain it was Callihan's fault), or when he had decided that this was obviously a great idea and it was definitely what Kitten wanted and he really needed to just go through with this before he lost what little nerve he had.

So he strode in, made his way to the shaving aisle, glanced over numerous wax kits with terrifying-looking pictures, grabbed a tube of some cream that promised 'pain-free results!' and stormed the cashier like he was on the beaches of fucking Normandy. I am the man who is going to make my girlfriend happy on Valentine's Day and nothing on this planet is stopping me.

In hindsight, maybe applying the shit once he had sobered up would have gone better. Or maybe applying it after his chest had healed from the fights. Or maybe just not slathering the shit on while finishing the bottle with Sami and then falling asleep next to the sink in the CZ bathroom. He only conked out for about forty-five minutes or so, but according to the tube that was forty minutes too long. The burning sensation was what woke him and Mox flew into a drunken panic, flailing and damn near knocking himself out on the underside of the sink before he managed to stumble to his feet.

He remembered thinking oh God no, just staring at his reddened, irritated chest coated with now-flaking cream in the mirror for a few wavering seconds before tearing at his jeans and making a mad dash for the showers. He'd wash it off. It'd be fine. This was definitely not going to ruin everything and he was still a good boyfriend.

Sami full-blown shrieked when Jon threw open the door to the showers, “Christ Mox, th' fuck did ya' do?!” He looked horrified, which only added to Jon's panic because Sami never busted out that face around him.

“It'll come off Sami, s'gonna' be okay Sami.” Jon mumbled, almost losing his footing on the slick floor. Callihan caught his arm and slammed his still-clothed ass down on the tile, ignoring Mox's protests as he turned the shower on full blast, freezing cold.

“Y' fell asleep with this shit on? I mean yeah, I done pretty much th' same thing first time I tried it. At least it's up here, right? Mine was on my fuckin' balls.” Sami's rueful grin made Mox start laughing even while he shivered under the frigid spray of the shower.

“F-F-Fuck C-Callihan, m' a f-f-fuckin' fa-failure.” He managed to say through his chattering teeth, essentially climbing his friend to stand again.

“Shut the fuck up.” Sami said bluntly, his hair now lank and dribbling cold hair gel down his face. Mox suddenly wanted to cry for some reason. He couldn't do anything right for fuck's sake and it hurt, way worse than whatever the fuck was going on with his chest. “Don't get fuckin' bitchy on me now, Mox. S' just some hair. You've had way worse'n this shit, man.” Sami continued, sounding almost like he was scolding him as he rung out his shirt.

“M' sorry man, I jus' wanted t' make her happy.” Jon scrubbed furiously at the skin on his chest, trying to avoid eye contact. Most of the paste had already dissolved under the water, taking his chest hair with it, but the redness seemed to be here to stay. Patches were bleeding here and there, and his poor nipples, Christ. Mox felt raw, like someone had exfoliated his chest with a fucking belt sander. “What th' fuck'm I gonna' do, Sami? I...we have a little thing planned tom--shit, tonight.” He realized in horror.

“Fuck that, what about tonight with Gage? Are ya'...I mean, shit man, y' look like y' got skinned.” Callihan, ever the master of tact. Mox teared up and he quickly ducked his head, staring at the floor as Sami shut off the shower.

“I j-jus' wanted t' look good f' her, m-man.” He hiccuped. “She looks like a fuckin' p-princess an' m' all d-d-dirty an' disgustin' an' ugly as shit, fuckin' ruinin' her jus' like Drake s-said--”

Sami whacked him upside the back of his head, making Mox yelp in pain. “Jonathan fuckin' Moxley, listenin' t' somethin' that comes outta' Younger's mouth? Who th' fuck are you, and what the shit did you do with my partner?”

“I dunno', man!” Jon cried, “M' hurt an' still drunk an' I'm fuckin' p-panickin', fuckin' bad dog all over th' fuckin' place, what the hell am I gonna' do Callihan?!”

“Ya' gonna' fight with a shirt on! No shit, genius! Ya' gonna' fuck ya' woman with a shirt on! No shit, kinky! She's gonna' love ya', you ain't gotta' tell her shit, an' you'll be fine!” Callihan was fucking roaring at this point, obviously still pretty hammered himself. “Ya' dick is fine, ain't it?! Chest jus' looks like ground fuckin' burger, y' waited too long an' shit! Now go to sleep, sleep off Jack and then we'll be ready t' fight. Ya' totally got this man, no worries!” The encouraging slap on the back he gave Jon almost knocked him over.

…

Fighting was fucking agony. Mox should have known from the second he stepped into the ring that Gage would take him to task.

“What's with the getup, street dog?” Nick had circled him, taking in the white t-shirt he wore. Jon's prayers that he wouldn't notice the tiny spots of fresh blood seeping through the front of it apparently went unanswered as Gage's opening move was winding up for one hell of a chop. And yeah, he'd fought hurt before. Fought really hurt before, much more hurt than this bullshit chemical abrasion across his chest. Like when Gage had whacked his arm open with a dinner plate, or when Damage had Powerbombed him on the cement beside the ring.

But the shirt just made everything worse. It rubbed and clung to his raw skin; Jon felt trapped and he wanted to fucking scream. There was a damn reason he didn't wear shirts in the ring, too easy to get grabbed or hung up on the wire or whatever the fuck else guys would do to one another. If there was one thing Mox was sure of, it was that he didn’t like it when his opponents got creative.

As he rammed his knee into Nick’s midsection Moxley found himself wondering whether anyone in the crowd was here for Valentine's Day. Like this was someone’s idea of a hot date. “Hey babe, wanna’ watch a human dog fight? Bet that’ll get your motor running.” Jon shuddered, cringing in pain when Gage landed another slashing chop across his chest. But he forced himself back up, forced himself past the next one to wrap his fists in Nick’s worn basketball jersey and hoist him high, almost tipping them both out of the ring. Gage strangled the ropes, kicking wildly and knocking Mox flat on his back.

Nick lunged on top of him and Mox could barely hazard a guess at how fucked he might have been if he hadn’t gotten his feet up in time. As such he ended up catapulting the other man over his head, and Nick slammed into the plywood on his back. Mox got up, wiping the blood from his split lip off with the hem of his shirt. The collar around his neck jingled quietly, and Jon felt some of the tension ease out of him. She’s waiting for me.

“Gage, can we speed this up?” He rasped, slumping back into his corner. “I got a cute chick dyin’ t' see me at home, man.”

…

He was lucky. He knew he was lucky. Lucky to be alive, lucky to have a friend like Sami, lucky to have his Kitten. Jon showered, shaved and changed after the fight, stripping off the now-pinkish white shirt and putting on a fresh one beneath his button-up. Hopefully it would keep the blood from soaking through and staining his (somewhat wrinkled but very clean) dress shirt. Normally Mox was master and commander of all things Band-Aid, but there was just too much surface area for him to fix this problem efficiently. Gauze was out of the question, too bulky and obvious. She would ask, or worse she’d be fucking worried about what had happened and he’d kill any mood that might have already existed.

Jon let Sami help him fix his hair a little, Callihan clearly holding back his laughter at how slowly and carefully Mox was moving. “Ya’ like a grandma or some shit man, loosen up.”

“Can’t help it, Callihan. M’ sore. Nervous.” Jon admitted. “I mean, she’s been actin' funny. Wearin’ more clothes and stuff. I just don’t wanna’ wreck what good thing I have here by showin’ up looking like I-”

“Th’ fuck do you mean, ‘wearing more clothes’?” Sami asked, tipping his head to the side. “Is this like that shit from before where ya’ were both bein’ fuckin’ idiots when you coulda’ been idiots fuckin’?”

“No no, she still lets me hold her and shit. She’s…I mean she’s a hot sleeper, y’know? It’s just weird, all of a sudden she’s wearin’ pants t’ bed an’ long sleeves.”

Sami ‘hmm’ed softly, looking like he was thinking hard. “Shit man, I dunno’. I’m assumin’ you ain’t, y’know, asked her about why she’s doin’ it, right?” He snorted when Jon nodded. “’Course not. Ya’ prefer drivin’ y’self fuckin’ nuts.”

“It’s harder than that, Callihan.” Mox said, annoyed. “I don’t wanna’ look stupid. I already look like a fuckin’ deadbeat. If she catches on that I don’t know what I’m fuckin’ doin’ when it comes t’ her, I’m fucked. I never had t’ do any of this fuckin’ Valentine's Day crap before man.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure you ain’t never whipped out a little TLC on a chick before, Mox.”

“Bein’ soft…isn’t really somethin’ that I am, Sami.” Jon mumbled. “I pretend for her, but I’m always lost n’ shit. I thought it’d get easier, fake it ‘til I make it. Everyone else before her, it’s usually been a contest t’ see how quick they can get what they want outta’ me. My mouth or my dick or my fists, whatever the fuck. An’ I went along with it because shit, I was poor an’ lonely so fuck it.”

Callihan had gone strangely quiet. His fingers fidgeted in Mox's hair. When he spoke again, his voice was a little kinder than Mox was used to. “I didn’t know, man. I always figured y' had a kinda’ normal love life, aside from the weird collar bullshit. I’m…I’m sorry ‘bout that, Mox.” After a second he punched Jon in the shoulder, that familiar grin back on his face. “Sorry I been sweet-talkin’ all them chicks into my pants, that is!”

Jon smiled gratefully at his friend. There was only so much sugary-feel-good bullshit he could take from Sami at one time. “Yeah yeah, someday you’ll find a nice girl an’ she’ll take ya’ V card an’ leave y’ heart in the dust. Don’t cry t’ me Callihan.”

“Take my fuckin’--how dare y’ fuckin’-” Callihan sputtered with rage. “Insinuatin’ that I ain’t--the balls on you, Moxley!” He finally managed to say, tossing Jon his hoodie. He then grabbed him in a headlock and gave him a vicious noogie, thoroughly ruining any work he had put in to the other man’s hair. “Y’ lucky we’re friends, you fuckin’ cocksucker.”

...

The bus ride over to the stop near her apartment gave Jon ample time to worry and half-crush the bouquet of orange roses he’d picked up. They were out of red ones, go figure, and the orange ones were the least ragged-looking in the group. So orange it was. He wished for a second that he knew what orange roses meant in that flower language bull, before deciding that it was probably better that he didn’t know. I hope she likes them, shit.

Keeping the roses safe until he got to the apartment was priority number one. He ended up cramming them under his hoodie so they would stay a decent temperature while he made the slow, slippery walk from the bus stop to the apartment building. It had been raining most of the day and now everything was covered in a sheen of ice. Mox breathed a sigh of relief when he finally got in out of the elements, carefully knocking the ice and slush off his boots then heading down the hall.

Upon opening the apartment door, he was confused for a second at the lack of lights on. Was he too late? Too early? Shit, did he get the wrong day? His panic was short-lived however, once he caught sight of the candles flickering in the living room. Oh. Why the fuck didn’t he think of that?! Nothing was more romantic than fucking candles. Christ, he was awful at this.

Jon struggled out of his hoodie and boots, clutched the flowers a little tighter. He had to swallow a few times before he could speak. “Kitten? Y’ home?” He rasped.

“In here, Jon.”

Of course she was in the bedroom. Stupid, stupid! Jon half-wished he was still drunk, at least to give his body a fucking reason to be so slow and clumsy. He didn’t want to open the bedroom door. He didn’t want to be the one to ruin the little daydream life he had, the one where everything was okay and he wasn’t fucked up and helpless when it came to this romance bullcrap. So much for looking like the guy on the cover of that book that I’m not supposed to know about, he thought wryly.

He had to fight the urge to knock before he pushed the door, hearing the latch click softly as it gave way. He felt almost like he was a stranger, like this was the first time he'd ever come home. Maybe even like the first time he'd seen her laid out on the bed, as if she was a beautiful surprise just for his greedy body to devour, for his stupid, weak fucking heart to latch onto.

There were a few more candles placed here and there in the room, but it was the sight of her that caught him. She was on her back, arched in a way that his brain quietly informed him was probably pretty uncomfortable but did absolute wonders for his dick, wearing a little see-through number that Jon had never seen before. His mouth went bone fucking dry. “Ki...”

“I've been waiting for you, Jon.” She murmured, and God damn, if she didn't sound every inch the sultry fucking vixen. “Missed you. Happy Valentine's Day.”

“H-Happy...I g-got. These.” Jon forced the words out, extending the bouquet. “F-For you.” She rolled over onto her hands and knees (that was a wince, that was definitely a wince, what the hell?), accepting his flowers with a happy noise that shot through his body. “Kitten, y' look fuckin'...wow. Christ.” Jon said softly, hoping that the fucking reverence he felt was properly vocalized. “You're so fuckin' pretty, I...” He wasn't sure what happened inside him. It was like something broke, shattered into a million pieces. The next thing he knew he had lurched toward her, hands shaking as he pressed her back to the bed and drew them over bare skin that seemed so hot, fever hot and smooth, smooth like silk.

Kitten squirmed and whimpered under his touch. Normally that would have lit Jon up like a firework, but something about her reaction seemed...wrong. Too sharp, like she was in pain. “Kitten, y' alright?” He asked cautiously. Did something happen to her? Is there a bad reason she's been wearing all those clothes? His stomach twisted in fear. Did I hurt her somehow? Does she not feel safe around me anymore? “Sound a little iffy.” Don't you dare fucking start bawling, Moxley.

“I-I just missed you.” The hesitation, the fucking hesitation in her voice hit him like a punch to the gut. Jon really wanted to cry.

He sat back on his haunches, running a hand through his hair and sucking in a breath. “Kitten, if y' don't wanna' do this anymore, all you have to do is say it. I...you ain't been lettin' me do much lately, an' that's fine, but draggin' this shit out hurts me. I love you, Kitten, but if y' don't wanna' do somethin', if you don't want me around anymore, ya' gotta' let me know.”

Kitten's fists clenched at her sides. She grabbed a pillow and covered her face with it, screaming into the thing with a vengeance. Mox watched, wide-eyed in confusion. She finally seemed to be finished, chucking the pillow at the wall. Her face was wet with tears, but she didn't look sad, she looked fucking livid. Jon swallowed hard, unsure of what he had gotten himself into. “Kitten...?”

“J-Jon, I got...I got f-fucking waxed. And it hurt. My skin is apparently really sensitive. I'm all...I'm all red and everything from the waist down feels like it's on fire but I just wanted this t-to be good so I figured I could suck it up because it's our first Valentine's D-Day.” She made an infuriated sound. “I hate this! Why can't one thing go right?!” Jon was helpless to stop his raspy laugh, quickly holding up a hand to deflect the pillow aimed at his face. “This isn't funny, Jon! I spent most of today with a fucking ice pack between my thighs just trying to bring down the swelling!” She snapped.

“Kitten, m' so sorry. I ain't laughin' at you. But y' gonna' laugh at me when you see what I did to myself like a fuckin' doofus.” Jon struggled to unbutton his dress shirt, nervous giggles still escaping his mouth. “Oh my God, you ain't even gonna' fuckin' believe this, Kitten.”

“What's those spots on your...Mox are you bleeding? Did you fight today?”

“Jus' wait.” Jon hauled his undershirt over his head, tossing it to land on the abandoned pillow.

Kitten's anger appeared to evaporate, her hand reaching out shakily to touch the raw skin of his chest. “Jesus Christ, Jon, what happened? Who did this to you?”

“Y' gonna' fuckin' cry laughin', Kitten. I...I did this. Callihan told me that girls don't like...they don't like hairy guys. S-So I got some stuff that y' rub on an' it eats th' hair. I figured I'd surprise ya'. I fell asleep with it on though.” Jon was startled when Kitten seemed more upset than amused, the tears streaming down her face. “I was so worried about tryin' t' hide this shit from you, an' it turns out y' pretty much in the same fuckin' boat. God I'm a fuckin' idiot, Kitten. M' so sorry. I ruined Valentine's Day.”

“I think we both did, Jon. I mean, I spent the whole week not shaving so this wouldn't happen, and it still did!” Kitten huffed. “I didn't want to gross you out, that's why I started wearing clothes to bed. I felt like a fucking hairball, it was revolting but I wanted it to be a surprise and everything I read said that I should have at least a week's worth of growth and...and now I look like one of those hairless cats, all pink and pissed-off.”

“Oh my God, Kitten, I don't give a flyin' fuck whether ya' shave seven days a week or seven days a year, or if ya' got more fuzz than a fuckin' Wookie. I just missed the shit outta' touchin' you. How fuckin' dumb are we?” Jon snorted. Kitten laughed through her tears after a minute, cupping his face and kissing him. “M' so sorry, Kitten, fuckin' Christ I'm sorry. Let's get y' outta' that tight little number an' into somethin' of mine, okay? Nice n' loose.” He offered.

Her legs were almost scorching to the touch. Jon was thankful for the dim candlelight of the room as he carefully helped her peel off her clothes. He wasn't sure if he actually wanted to see the full extent of her damage. Couldn't trust himself to keep from bawling his eyes out. He definitely didn't want her to see the full extent of his damage, especially the undignified, patchy remains of his happy trail. More like happy fucking hopscotch.

She finally seemed comfortable, curled up on his side of the bed in a loose, hole-filled shirt and nothing else. Jon made sure that all the candles in the living room were extinguished and then slowly trekked back to the bedroom, pleased to find that she'd dragged her laptop up onto the bed and was scrolling through it looking for something to watch. Jon didn't even mind when she picked a mushy romance flick, too preoccupied with how she essentially laid her tits on top of his arm and kept making little noises in the back of her throat whenever he would play with them.

He nodded off with her head in his lap, his fingers stroking through her hair gently while she mumbled something about a, “do-over...”

“I wish you'd just asked me.”

The soft words eased into Jon's consciousness, into the mundane dream he was having. Was it even a dream? He didn't feel achy. He must be dreaming. But all he was doing was being cradled in her arms, one of her legs flung over his and her chest pressed tightly to his back. Jon relaxed against her. It wasn't often that he indulged himself as far as being held went, still a little uncomfortable with letting his guard down. He was the badass, he was the one who protected, and he was the one who did the spooning around here, thank you very much.

“Wish you could talk to me. I promise you won't scare me.” Kisses landed on his shoulder blade. “My poor mutt. I should have told you what I was doing. Just wanted it to be a surprise.” Fingers toyed with his collar. “Why are we so bad at this?”

She sounded sad. Jon wanted to say no, wanted to take all the blame for himself. None of this would have happened if he wasn't such a coward, if he'd only been able to speak to her, like all those normal couples did. But his tongue refused to cooperate. So it was a dream, then. Not much could keep him from talking if he so desired to shoot his mouth off. And if it was a dream...

He burrowed further into the warm cocoon of blankets, securing her arms around his waist and making her snuggle even closer. No harm in indulging a little.

…

Four days went by. Four long, tender days of her wearing as few clothes as possible (mostly his shirts), curling up against him every chance she got and fussing over his chest. Jon had never thought of himself as a man with a great deal of patience, so he considered it a personal triumph that he had lasted this long without bending his sweet, beautiful Kitten over the nearest surface and railing her until she begged for mercy for being such a God. Damn. Fucking. Tease. The best part out of the whole thing (and honestly, this was what really got him going) is that it seemed entirely unintentional. She was no more forward than normal, but her being sweet and gentle with him coupled with her pretty consistent lack of underwear or pants was fantastic.

Shit, maybe he had gone soft and, in turn, maybe he wasn't as bad at this as he thought. He certainly had never refrained from fucking someone out of fear of hurting them before her, that's for sure. He recalled with a wince a few of the marks he'd left on women past, when they would demand or urge him out past any sort of reasonable boundaries, “be rough with me, Mox!” They wanted something different from him, something that their boyfriends apparently weren't willing to give. The crazy, rabid street dog. They didn't want Jon. Not a lot of people did. Getting shoved into that dark, fighting mindset while he was fucking was always a terrifying experience because Jon was never quite sure what he might come back to.

He knew he was lucky, leaving a trail of nothing more than crisp-edged hickies and the occasional too-hard bite that made chicks squeal in pain or ecstasy.

He knew he was lucky because Kitten was still pressed to his side, fingers ghosting over the almost-healed skin of his chest. There was food in his stomach. He was warm and safe, camped out on a couch with the woman he loved. She never pushed him, never forced him past his boundaries. And yeah, he'd fucked up Valentine's Day but they'd had a pretty good Christmas, a few fun birthdays between them.

“Kitten, d'ya think we can try again?” He asked, hand rubbing over the smooth skin on her calf. She had been more and more receptive to touch as the days went on, slowly returning to some semblance of normalcy. Which was a damn good thing. “For Valentine's Day, I mean. Maybe next week or somethin'?”

She shook her head, suddenly swinging her leg over his thighs. “I was thinking maybe...” She trailed off, biting her lip.

It had been almost two weeks between the build up to the almighty V-Day and the subsequent healing time. Eleven days of not being able to stroke his Kitten, eleven days of keeping his hands to himself. But here she was now. Offering without words, straddling his thighs and shifting her hips back and forth. No panties, nothing between them but his jeans.

Jon swallowed hard. “Are you sure, Kitten?” He had to ask. God only knew how bad it could be if he didn't.

She nodded eagerly, taking his hand and pulling her shirt up (technically his shirt) so he could touch her thighs. Jon's eyes narrowed and he grabbed a handful of the shirt, dragging her in for a hungry kiss. “Lean over the couch arm.” He demanded breathlessly, thrilled when she obeyed. Easy. There she was. Spread out, waiting for him. Jon wasted no time, all but pouncing on her and quickly breaching her cunt with two fingers.

She cried out, arching her back against him and circling her hips as he curled his middle and ring fingers roughly inside her, his index coming up to tease her clit. She was already wet, already fucking soaked and so damn tight around his fingers and Jon wondered briefly how long she'd wanted him to do this but hadn't asked. The idea of her needy and achy made his dick all but crush itself against the zipper of his jeans, his brain (as usual) going into fucking overdrive and imagining her whimpering and fingering herself on the couch, wishing it was him the whole time.

He groaned and pressed his chest to her back, pinning her to the couch arm. “Jon's got you, Kitten.” He whispered in her ear. “Y' little tease, walkin' around with no panties on like you don't know what you fuckin' do to me. Makin' me hard as a fuckin' rock, makin' me wanna' bend your naughty ass over an' fuck ya' until y' can't see straight. It would be so fuckin' easy, so fuckin' easy. Just tug this shirt up a little, slide this fat fuckin' dick into you. You'd love that shit, wouldn't you?” Jon asked, spreading her pussy lips to tease his middle finger over her entrance in a mockery of penetration.

“Y-Yeah-” Kitten sounded almost frantic, her hips rocking up into his touches.

“Y' like me when I'm desperate, don't ya' Kitten?” Jon leaned back and unzipped his jeans, lazily stroking his cock and winking when she looked back at him. “Y' like it when I just say all the shit that's on my brain, instead of keepin' it in. Shit, y' might even like me bein' in charge, huh?” Kitten whimpered pitifully. “Jesus Christ Kitten, you made me so fuckin' hard, damn. Could come just from this. What would y' do if I came right now, fuckin' coated y' stomach?” Jon cupped his cock and pressed it to her slit, rubbing himself slowly back and forth across her dripping opening.

Kitten dug her fingers into the couch, moaning needily and trying to shift her hips so he would slide his cock into her.

“Mmm, someone's been a naughty fuckin' Kitten. I think y' can wait me out.” Jon murmured. He'd never gotten himself off quite like this before, but it definitely had merit. He really was too wound up, the waiting and her willingness completely ruining his endurance. Jon felt no shame though. He was perfectly willing to go multiple rounds, if that was what it took for him to satisfy her. He pressed his forehead to the small of her back and came with a soft grunt after a few more tugs on his dick.

Kitten made a whining noise, seemingly in disbelief that he'd come so soon. “J-Jon...?”

“I toldja', y' been fuckin' naughty.” Jon panted, smirking. “Gettin' me hard all the time, rubbin' ya' tits on me like y' trying t' titfuck my whole fuckin' body. Can't tell me at least some of it wasn't intentional, Kitten. Y' must like me all riled up an' achin' t' fuck you.” The blush that spread over her body was answer enough.

“I...I like it when you take charge. I've missed you.” Kitten said quietly, her honesty surprising Jon. “God, Jon, please. Please.” Her fingers slid down her stomach to touch his dick, stroking him gently. He hadn't exactly wilted when he came and she apparently realized that, if her sharp intake of breath was anything to go by.

“Oh that's right, I'm still good t' go.” Mox grinned, softly biting her shoulder blade through the shirt. “I've been fuckin' waitin' for this, Kitten. No one an' done tonight.”

“Yes.” She sounded thrilled and it made Jon laugh.

He spread her legs open even wider, taking a moment to appreciate the effort she'd put in. “I know y' probably ain't too keen on waxin' ever again, so if y' don't mind I'm just...” Jon paused, thrusting his fingers back into her and then mercilessly hooking them over her spot. Kitten's back arched, the woman pressing her cheek to the couch arm while she moaned and writhed underneath him. “Mm, Kitten y' sound a little close t' creamin' all over my hand. Smooth little pussy tryin' so hard t' come on me.”

“Please, Jon, I--” She begged, her voice cracking as she came. “It's been awful, could tell I was making you hard but I couldn't do anything about it, wanted to fuck you so bad but I was too sore.” Kitten admitted jerkily when she could speak again, “wanted you so much, so fucking much, Jon, please.”

Her confession hit him like a sack of bricks. Even though she'd been in pain, she still wanted him. Him! Jon was a little exasperated with how quickly his eyes welled up. How fucking soft could he get, really? But for her...

Shit, for her he'd fucking melt away if she asked for it.

“No more waitin', Kitten.” Jon rasped, blinking the tears back. “No more hidin'. I'll be careful. I promise. Won't hurt you. Good Behavior.” He felt a shudder roll through her body that had nothing to do with her orgasm. He vaguely recalled coaxing her onto the worn-out mattress he'd had at the CZ warehouse with those same words and a fervent promise of no biting.

Good Behavior, Best Behavior.

It felt like a lifetime ago that he'd been that guy, the one who'd wanted to go dark because it was usually better than being around inside his fucked-up head. A lifetime since she'd been so small and scared, willing to do anything just to feel safe for a little while. She'd hauled him out of his destructive cycle and he'd slowly given her a sense of security.

They'd come so far together.

Jon shook his head and pressed another kiss to her shoulder blade, easing his fingers out of her. “Hey, turn over, okay?” He asked softly. She had a shy expression on her face when she obliged, tugging the shirt down like it would cover her completely. He caught her hands, mouthing soft kisses on her knuckles. “No more hidin' from me, Kitten. My beautiful fuckin' princess.”

“Only if you promise to do the same.” She replied, her voice just as soft. The protest was on the tip of his tongue, he didn't hide--

But he recalled the hellish week he'd spent agonizing over something as pointless as whether she liked his body hair or not, and he finally nodded. A smile lit her face and she slid a finger through the D ring on his collar, pulling him into a kiss that was so tender it hurt. “My strong mutt.” She crooned to him when they finally parted. “I love you so much.”

Shit, he might be totally fucking broken at this point. He quickly ducked his head and began fumbling with his jeans in an effort to keep her from seeing how hard those words still hit him. She cupped his chin though, tipping his face back up so he could meet her eyes. “I'm serious, Jon. I know it's difficult for you. I don't expect one night of me tying you up to be enough to work through a lifetime. But...I'm going to keep saying it until you're okay with it.” She whispered.

He had no idea why she was being so quiet. All it did was add another layer of intimacy to the situation. Jon could handle yelling, frantic movements, demands and orders and hits that landed. When it came to the gentle stuff though, the romantic shit like they had in the movies she liked to watch, he was at a total loss. It always sat heavy in his chest and made his throat tighten, his longing quickly slapped down by the reality of who he was.

“M' sorry Kitten, I don't mean to...I jus'. It's jus' a hard thing for me to handle. M' okay.” Jon mumbled, “Bad at this shit.”

“Do you still want to, or should we stop?” She asked cautiously, searching his face. “I totally understand if you would rather just snuggle.”

Jesus Christ, Kitten, you aren't even fair. Jon shook his head, not trusting his voice as he laid his head on her chest and wrapped his arms around her. He could hear her heart rate pick up while he slowly, slowly slid his cock into her, could hear the moan she tried to bite back. Her hands cradled his head. “Who says I can't do fuckin' both, huh?” Jon challenged shakily, biting down hard on his lower lip when she whimpered. “I'll snuggle the fuck outta' ya', Kitten.”

“Mm, yes-” She sighed, stroking his hair. “God I love you. Love you so much.”

Jon couldn't answer, just gripped her as tightly as he dared. He may like to talk, but his words failed him at times like these. His body would have to do the talking for him. No candles here, no cute lingerie or bouquets of roses (though not for lack of trying on either of their parts). Just all his damn feelings, all his soft fucking bullshit feelings that he couldn't articulate so he had to resort to this, holding her close and easing their bodies together like he was never going to do this again so it had to last.

Maybe she'd get an inkling. Maybe she'd hear the 'I love you so much' that was what he meant when he clumsily said she was beautiful. Maybe she might understand he had never done this with anyone else and it was fucking terrifying and he didn't know what the fuck to do.

“Kitten, I...” Jon's voice petered out and he cursed inwardly. Dammit, fucking dammit. She just started stroking his hair and it made some of the strain leave his body. “Fuck.” He muttered, torn between comfort and being more aroused than before. She was so fucking warm around him, whole body wrapping him in an embrace that he never wanted to leave. “I missed you.” He finally said softly, voice muffled by her shirt. “Fuck, did I miss you.” He sloppily licked and nipped at one of her peaks through the shirt, hoping to distract her from how choked-up he sounded. “N-Not just this, obviously.” He cursed the tremble in his voice. “Everythin', everythin' about you. I'll try not t' hide anymore. Don't want ya' t' feel like I do.”

“God, Jon...” She was being so damn tender with him, like when he came back to her walking fucking wounded and it killed him because it meant she was worried. Her fingers buried in his hair, her hips rising to meet his own so gently, her sweet voice moaning praise as he made love to her. He found himself breathing every word that got tangled up in his stupid mouth, pulling energy from all the times he'd fucked up, broke off, never said what he wanted to. All his stupid machismo was shoved aside, like what had happened the first time he'd met Kitten.

The only thing left was that raw love ache that hurt sometimes, burned a little too bright sometimes and left him feeling defenseless. But Jon would do it for her. He would do anything for her. “Oh God, Kitten, please open your eyes.” He begged, propping himself up over her. “I gotta' tell ya' somethin'.” Please, please, before I lose my nerve.

She half-opened her eyes, her hands moving to cling to his midsection. Her breath was coming in shaky little sobs, wanton noises making their way out as he continued to fuck her slowly. “J-Jon--” She gasped, her nails digging into his skin in that way that let him know she was close.

“God, I love you!” Jon fairly exploded, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. “I love how y' say my fuckin' name, my real name. I love the way ya' fuckin' curl up around me, the way y' take care of me. I fuckin' love ya' happy fuckin' face an' th' kisses you give me an' the ways y' make me laugh and I hate that I had to fuckin' slog through all my hangups jus' so I can fuckin' finally gush 'bout how fuckin' great you are!” The words poured out of him, hot and messy and maybe a little more than he'd intended to share as he felt her walls tighten around his cock. “Y' my Kitten, you're th' most precious thing I fuckin' have, most importan' thing in the fuckin' world t' me an' I love you so damn much, so fuckin' much--”

She grabbed his collar and jerked him down to her face, kissing him for all he was worth. Jon cupped the back of her neck and refused to let go, the two of them locked in a race for completion while he continued to mumble against her lips, all the soft shit he'd always been too scared to say.

I love the way you make me feel, I love the way you touch me, I'm so sorry for making you wait for this, please forgive me, I love you so much, I'm so sorry he hurt you, thank you for letting me love you, thank you for trusting me...

“I love you too, Jon, I love you so much--” Her reply made his heart swell and he swallowed hard, bumping his forehead into hers and looking down at where their bodies joined.

“Come with me, Kitten. Come with me, please. M' fuckin' beggin', can't last much longer.” He pleaded urgently.

She cried out, the sound sending shivers down his spine that went straight to his dick as she came around him. Jon slowed his pace to a gentle rocking, brushing her hair back from her face while she gasped for breath. “O-Oh, Kitten...” He moaned, his own orgasm rolling over him in an all-encompassing wave that nearly made his arms give out. “Fuckin' Christ, Kitten.”

She quickly struck one-two at his arms, successfully dropping him on top of her with a startled 'oof!'. Kitten didn't seem to mind being almost-crushed though, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tight while she ran her hand through his hair and made soft noises of content. Exhaustion dragged at his body like a dead weight, but he couldn't in good conscience just doze off after saying all that stuff to her.

“Are y' alrigh', Kitten?” He asked warily, after she hadn't moved for several minutes. Her breathing had evened out, heartbeat still coming back down. She'd fallen asleep underneath him. Jon barely kept from snorting with laughter. So much for being worried about how she would take him essentially fucking his feelings into her, seemed she was handling things better than he was.

He carefully untangled her arms from around his neck, standing and twisting back and forth to work the kinks out of his spine. His whole body ached but in that warm, pleasant way. Jon looked down at her, thoroughly tousled and sound asleep without a care in the world. “Y' have th' best ideas, Kitten.” He said quietly. “Let's head t' bed.”

Her head lolled against his chest when he picked her up and her fingers sleepily traipsed across the bare skin. “Miss your fuzz.” She mumbled as Jon laid her down on their bed.

Jon hushed her, trying not to laugh while climbing under the covers and tugging her close. “It'll grow back, Kitten.” I hope.

“Mm, good.”

Jon laid there silently for a few minutes as she moved around, finally seeming to get comfortable with her face tucked into his neck. “Damn, but ya' sure do know how t' make a first impression on a guy.” He said softly.

Good Kitten.

Epilogue

#jon moxley smut #jon moxley #Jon Moxley/OFC #thirst party saturday #wrestling #this made me laugh and cry at different points #enjoy!#happy valentine's day you lovely folks #what a wild ride this story has been

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