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cheriladycl01 · 1 month

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Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife chef!reader? She always brought him food because she knew how busy he could get with everything. So, she would always make him his favourite meals/pick up a guilty pleasure snack as a surprise for him. Maybe she had some surprises for him. I'll let you decide what it was. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks! :))

Lets make lunch for my Husband! - Peter Bonnington x ChefWife! Reader

Plot: You are famous on Tiktok for making videos where you pack lunches for you husband but use ingredients globally as you always travel with him of race weekends.

Credit to princemick for the GIF

y/user

Liked by peter.bonn, gordongram and lewishamilton

y/user: Racing in Bahrain!

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round One 🇧🇭 And we have Chicken, Rice and Veggies (a very hearty meal here) 🏎️

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fan1: I love her TikTok’s she’s so funny and Peter is just so cute!

fan2: their relationship is eveything you me

gordongram: Cooking in Style as always Y/N!

-> y/user: thanks Gords!

“Baby, lunch was amazing today! And thank you for putting the Twirl in there!” He grins as you both get back to the hotel, it had been a good race and you were both happy.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it hunny. I’ve already made a meal plan of what I’m going to make at each race! You’ll be so happy with breakfast lunch and dinner in Silverstone!” You grin pulling him in for a kiss.

“Mmmm what have I got?” He grins, pulling you to sit on his lap on the sofa in your hotel room.

“Breakfast, of course a full English, get you all set for the day and make sure you’ve got all the protein to see you through till lunch. Then you’ve got your fave Ham Pesto and Mozzarella Sandwich for lunch. And then to round it off, I’ll invite Toto, Suzie, Lewis, George and Carmen all round for a Sunday Roast!” You say practically bouncing at the prospect of guests and being able to cook for them!

“I love you, you are without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to me” he smiles pulling you back to relax on the sofa as you both sit there in each others embrace.

“I love you most!” You declare making him laugh and kiss your head. It wasn’t a battle he could win with you despite knowing you were wrong and he held an impossible amount of love for you.

y/user

Liked by peter.bonn and lewishamilton

y/user: Racing in Saudí Arabia!

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round Two 🇸🇦 And we have my first time making Kabsa which a local helped me get all the ingredients! It’s very yummy! 🏎️

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peter.bonn: it was so nice, can’t wait to come back!

fan1: I’m living for this series, not the rich men racing!

fan2: this is so cute that she cooks for him!

“You know, the boys keep saying you need to start bringing it in for them aswell” he chides as you get into the car.

“What am I expected to cook for the 5000 now? I don’t think so, that’s why they have a paid for hospitality…” you groan, waking up early just to prepare Peter some food was exhausting you couldn’t imagine getting up to make it for more people!

“Maybe Toto should hire you as head chef here!” He grins and you laugh at the thought. You, working in Mercedes Catering?

“Baby … you know I have a … Michelin Star right?” you offer in confusion.

“Oh so your below working for Mercedes now are you?” He frowns, faking his offence on the matter.

“Oh stop being a whiny baby Pete!” You scold lightly hitting his arm, making him recoil and sigh before pulling you into a big hug.

“Im lucky you don’t have to be there 24/7. What would I do without you” he laughs.

“Probably starve as you’d forget to eat!” You hum in thought.

y/user

Liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and peter.bonn

y/user: Racing in Australia!

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round Three 🇦🇺 Of course I couldn’t come in and not offer fairy bread (as requested by my adopted grid son Oscar Piastri) and my famous Chicken Parm Sandwiches for the team which went down a treat!

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oscarpiastri: thank you for the fairy bread Y/N, LN understands the hype now

-> landonorris: don’t tell Jon, he said I couldn’t have any …

-> y/user: and rat out my second grid son, no way!

danielricciardo: brought back childhood memories! Thanks for coming all the way to VCARB for delivery!

-> y/user: you are welcome Dani! 🇦🇺🐨

“Thank you for the fairy bread!” Oscar said pulling you into a hug as you came back to get your container from the McLaren garage, seeing it fully empty.

“Everyone enjoy? Even though I felt like a child making it?” You laugh knowing it wasn’t exactly a chef thing to make but Oscar had asked for it, and who were you to deny the literal son you had adopted since he started.

“Yeah, Lando hadn’t ever tried it and I made it for Lily once to prove to her it was a real thing we ate but the bread kinda ended up being soggy, she preferred yours a lot more” he laughed back and you continued to talk about racing, cooking, life and everything else that just came up.

Halfway through that conversation Lando joined pulling his grid mum into a massive hug and asking her to bake him some cake or make the chicken wraps.

Fun fact, Y/N actually invented the chicken wrap for Lando. She became Lando’s private chef for a while when he lived in the UK, and he wasn’t … well I mean he’s Lando and if anyone expects him to know even know to turn on an oven you are sorely mistaken.

Eventually a group of drivers were around the woman, and it took Peter and Lewis forcing their way through to get her to come back.

“You’ve been busy!” He smiles nodding his head to the now dispersing group.

“Yeah, just talking to the kids!” You grin, nodding in the McLaren twins direction who were now messing around with each other.

y/user

Liked by inthekitchen, peter.bonn and others

y/user: Racing in Azerbaijan!

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round Four 🇦🇿 Cooked up a storm off track today in a cooking interview and remaking one of the first dishes I learnt in school ‘Uzbek Plov’

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inthekitchen: pleasure to have you in and talking while cooking :)

-> y/user: thank you for all the fun! 🫶🏼

peter.bonn: This was nice, but I’m going to need some comfort food soon baby, these variations of meat and rice … it’ll be the end of me.

-> y/user: I thought you enjoyed my cooking!

-> peter.bonn: I DO! Just missing some creature comforts!

“You were amazing in that interview baby!” He says twirling you around as he came to pick you up on the Saturday evening. You had unfortunately missed qualifying, but you were excited to hear about your husbands day.

“Thank you, how was qually?” You ask.

“Could have been better, could have been worse” he admits looking down. He then tells you all about his frustrations with the car this season and he feels pretty helpless when it comes to advising Lewis who is getting more and more hot headed as the season progresses.

“Well I made your favourite!” You grin showing him the famous Victoria Sponge you’d made on the cooking show.

“Oh fuck, I love you!” He grins before directing you over to the car to get you both back to the hotel as soon as possible so he can have some of the delicacy in the tin on your lap.

y/user

Liked by peter.bonn and others

y/user: Racing in Miami

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round Five 🇺🇸 My husbands been getting fussier. Now in the homeland where there is no cuisine … we’ve gone for the requested creature comforts. From Breakfast to Lunch here are Peter’s faves!

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peter.bonn: best waffles ever 🧇

“Thank you, I think I really needed that meal! As much as love the differentiation with this global skills challenge. I needed something to remind me of home! The waffles were perfect. And my favourite Sandwich? I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned for Monaco next week!” He grins happily. Loving that you were cooking him something for every race.

“Ooo that reminds me. I picked you up these” you grin. Out from your bag you pull out a box of American Candy that he always wanted whenever you guys were in the states.

“In Moderation okay? Toto will murder me if he knows all these desserts are happening!” You smile kissing him before placing the sweets in his hand.

You had big plans for Monaco and you couldn’t wait!

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #peter bonnington oneshot #peter bonnington fluff #peter bonnington x you #peter bonnington x reader #peter bonnington imagine #peter bonnington #mercedes

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wntrs0ldier · 1 year

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An Offer · part 10

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 7,1k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.), a/n: sorry if it sucks, i wanted to post it as soon as possible!

series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

With half of your face still snuggled into the pillow, you opened one eye and looked semiconsciously around the room again; or at least as much of it as the position of your body allowed. You took another breath and let it out heavily – you felt exhausted from waking up a moment before, but at the same time you knew you were rested. None of the worries that had been haunting you for the last few months weighed on you; as if there was someone who had taken all the weight off you. In fact, that someone actually existed; that someone wasn't marrying you purely for your own sake, but because he wanted to have you all to himself. Just you.

You felt the familiar, at the same time completely new pulsation between your thighs. You were barely awake and he was already affecting you – not even him in the flesh, but the thought of him.

You propped yourself up on your hands, then pulled away sluggishly from the mattress, therefore awakening a dull, deep pain in your lower back. An uncontrollable gasp escaped your lips; one of your hands immediately found its way to that spot to prevent the discomfort from spreading throughout your body, but the pain stopped at that one point. You remembered perfectly well where it came from, and the memory made it pleasurable in some twisted way.

Having reached for your phone, resting on your bedside table, you checked the time – it was almost eleven. In doing so, you noticed several messages from Suzie, as well as Connie. Your sister was asking where you'd been, your friend – how the wedding had gone. In theory you knew the answers to both of these questions, but you couldn't give them. You replied to both messages with the same thing; that you would talk to them later.

You slipped out of bed, and, grabbing your bag, sneaked to the bathroom.

After the shower you searched through your bag for something appropriate, but the problem was that you had no idea you were going to Las Vegas, and the climate here compared to that in New York was dramatically different; so much so that you knew you would have fried in Vegas wearing the clothes you had packed. Still, you weren't going to walk around in nothing but your underwear; so you put on what you had, in the meantime making a note in your head that you needed to sort this out soon.

You knocked on the door of Bucky's temporary bedroom, waited a moment, then looked inside. The room appeared empty, giving you that familiar, unpleasant knot in your stomach. But there was his bag on the floor near the bed, so you told yourself that he didn't leave you at all. Even so, as you walked downstairs, that cool, throat-clenching anxiety lingered with you.

It disappeared when you reached the kitchen, but not because of relief – it was replaced by guilt, since you immediately assumed Bucky had run away again. But there he was, just by the counter; in shorts showing his long, muscular legs, a t-shirt with sweat stains visible on it, his breath uneven, his hair tied in a bun. He looked back at you, strands of his hair, which had managed to escape from under the hair tie, were sticking to his face, reddened from the effort, shiny from sweat. His lower lip wore the mark of your bite – a small wound, darker than the rest of his pink mouth.

“You awake,” Bucky remarked, walking over to the fridge. He grabbed a small bottle of water and almost completely emptied it with only a few sips.

“Are you trying to get a heatstroke?” You asked with pretended curiosity, looking at him.

He rolled his eyes, a corner of his mouth lifted. “There are trees all around the neighborhood. I was safe,” he said. “Besides…” He shrugged casually. “I have really good stamina,” he stated, and you knew that there was an innuendo beneath his words. And although the night before you didn't have much trouble touching him, now suddenly you couldn't look him in the eye any longer. In addition, you were still consumed by guilt. Bucky easily noticed that; all playfulness was gone from his face, and whilst a calmness appeared in return, you knew that it was of a rather negative nature. “What is it?”

Ruining his mood was not in your intentions, but on the other hand, you had probably already messed it up. You wished you could hide your feelings from him. “I thought you ran away again. But just for a moment,” you clarified quickly.

Bucky pursed his lips, but he wasn't angry at you. “Do you think you'll be able to forgive me? Not now, but... at some point?”

“I forgave you right away, Bucky,” you answered without the slightest hesitation. “But I need time to fully trust you.”

“As much as you want,” he said immediately, almost stepping on your last word.

Your mouth curved into a pale smile; you had the feeling that this morning could have been much more enjoyable, and you ruined it all. Even though you had every right to – your fears were justified, and Bucky didn't try to convince you otherwise.

“Hey, umm…” you began. After all, you weren't going to let your shaky mood cast a shadow over the rest of the day. An important day. “There is a problem with my clothes. I haven't packed anything for this weather and-”

Bucky sized you up. “Wait here,” he ordered, then walked out of the kitchen.

Left alone, you looked around the room with no particular destination in mind. It was then that you noticed a small note attached with a magnet to the hood. You didn't want to read other people's memos, but your name caught your eye.

Y/N,

What do you say we spend your last hours of freedom together? Call me as soon as you are ready.

Marion.

Bucky returned to the kitchen, holding some neatly folded clothes. “Should be alright for now.” He handed you the things he brought, then glanced at the piece of paper between your fingers. “What’s that?”

You looked instinctively at what he was also looking at, and at first you weren't sure what to answer; you hadn't even had enough time to think about Marion's proposition. “Oh, it’s just…” Having shrugged cluelessly, you raised the note to Bucky's eye level.

A corner of his mouth lifted. “I'll have to call her. Tell her to deliver you to me in one piece.”

When Bucky went to take a shower, you first changed into what he had gotten you – shorts and a t-shirt; both of which belonged to him – and then you called Marion. After a brief, rather pointless conversation, she said she would send you the address where you were to meet. You grabbed the most necessary things, like your phone and your wallet with cash, credit cards, but most importantly documents, and ordered a cab.

The address Marion had given you led you to a huge, jaw-dropping casino; the ones you had inherited from your father – although they didn't fall into the category of small, modest buildings – were nothing compared to this monstrous object.

The cab stopped; you paid the driver and got out, lifting your head to continue staring at the building.

“Welcome to Black Velvet Casino.” You caught the sound of Marion's voice, and as you glanced in that direction, you noticed the woman standing at the entrance. “Come inside.” She gave you an encouraging nod, and as you walked to her, Marion put her arm around you. “Jamie told me to feed you, I heard you didn't have breakfast.”

You raised your eyebrows involuntarily. Although Bucky had said he would call his aunt, at the time you thought it was a joke; or that he would actually ask her to be careful with you. What you didn't expect, however, was for him to be overprotective even at a distance.

You both entered the casino. Inside, dark walls, geometric patterns, especially on the marble floors, elegant vintage furniture and elements of gold dominated. All these pieces seemed to be typical of art deco.

“So, it's your casino?” you asked, unable to stop yourself from constantly looking around, absorbing the details you were discovering.

Marion, leading the way to the restaurant inside the casino, turned to gaze at you. “It belongs to Jamie.” She beamed at you, a satisfied, slightly proud smile on her face. “I just run it. It's hard to have total control of the business in Vegas when you live in New York.”

Your brows drew together. “Yes, that’s right…” you answered rather automatically, half-consciously. You didn't have the slightest idea why the fact that Bucky owned such a huge, beautiful casino had left you in such a daze. Maybe because he wasn't bragging about his wealth when asking you to marry him? Maybe because he didn't have to have it all to sweep you off your feet?

While you ate breakfast – barely, and under your own duress since your stomach, due to the sudden stress of the wedding, refused to accept any food at all – Marion absorbed one bloody mary, explaining that it was, after all, some sort of vegetable portion anyway. Towards the end, she ordered one for you and another for herself to keep you company in sipping your drink. However, the loneliness wouldn't stop you from drinking – your stomach was more than happy to open up to some alcohol.

After the meal, you and Marion hit a few places from Marion’s intangible list of things to do before the wedding.

First, shopping – you supplied yourself with a couple of summer dresses, among other things, as well as something for your Las Vegas wedding. You didn't want to look completely traditional; it didn't do you any good the first time. You bought the shortest white dress you could find – with long, flared sleeves and an open back. You completed the whole thing with flesh-tone fishnet tights, sparkling because of small rhinestones here and there, high heels and short, tacky veil that cost you five dollars.

Then, as a wedding gift, Marion took you to a luxury spa for a massage, a series of masks and other treatments for your skin, a manicure and pedicure. All topped off with a glass of champagne. Only in your case; Marion, on the other hand, drank at least three, and you were hugely impressed by the fact that she didn't seem to be at least tipsy.

It's been a long time since you've experienced those two things at the same time – rested and peaceful both physically and mentally.

In the meantime, Bucky texted you to meet him at the address he had sent you, and to let him know when you would be getting into the cab. So you did; immediately after thanking Marion for the whole day and getting yourself a transport.

Even though you were already about to get married for the second time - if the situation a few days ago could be described as such – the seriousness of it was starting to overwhelm you. Mainly because you were left alone and had no one to distract you from all those stressful thoughts. You didn't even know how long you had been clutching the fabric of your short summer dress in your hands, but it wrinkled at that particular spot.

After the driver made you aware that you had arrived at the location, you paid for the ride, then left the car and your attention was drawn to the nearest building – a Marriage License Bureau sign stretched above its entrance.

“Are you lost, ma’am?”

You immediately turned your gaze towards the voice – you only recognised it after a second. As you got out of the cab, you didn't even think about where Bucky was; you didn't look for him, you didn't think of texting him to ask where exactly you were going to meet. And he found you, or rather he waited for you to find him – standing with his back up against one of the pillars, he was just finishing a cigarette. Apart from a smirk, there was a kind of lazy amusement on his face.

You approached him with a few, almost wobbly steps, his eyes bored into you. “How long have you been waiting here?”

“Not too long.” Bucky put out the cigarette on the edge of the dumpster, then threw the stub away. “You're nervous,” he remarked, tilting his head slightly to the side. Usually his ability to read your emotions was something you admired, but you knew that this time you were practically radiating stress.

“You are not?”

Bucky shook his head; unlike you, he oozed calm. “One of us has to stay sane.”

“Oh, and it has to be you, poor thing?” You raised your eyebrows in pity, to which he nodded confidently. You sighed heavily, turning more serious. “How do you do it..? How do you manage to stay calm?”

Bucky was silent for a moment.

“I don't have that feeling anymore that I have to do it; that I have to marry you. I mean, I have to,” he clarified. “But because it's the only way to have you around. And I want you around, so it's like I want this marriage, huh?” He gave you a half-smile.

You looked away, smiling too; not knowing why, you felt a little shy, a little intimidated by the extent to which he was confident in his decision.

“Do you want me around?” he asked, and you immediately turned your gaze back to him. “It's your last chance to escape.”

You both knew that there was no better candidate in the whole deal - you didn't think you would have met someone who was as agreeable and respected you as much as Bucky. Bucky, on the other hand, couldn't allow you to be given to someone else; he was too possessive of you. You were also both aware of each other's reasons, and while you might have been pleased with his, Bucky should have felt offended, being anything but the best choice among really average candidates. But he didn't feel offended; you sensed he didn’t.

“Of course I want you around.”

“Then let's go,” he said, smiling. You have probably never seen him so relaxed before – his attitude was somewhat encouraging. “I promise it won't hurt.”

Bucky was right – it didn't hurt.

On that day you were one of the really few couples who applied for a marriage license, so the whole process took a little over fifteen minutes. If someone had told you that a few months ago, you wouldn't have believed it – you wouldn't have believed that a man who shied away from marriage, who was only supposed to help you find a suitable husband, was about to become one himself. Moreover, with a smile on his face, not a look of terror in his eyes. Because that's exactly what he looked like when he held in his hands the document allowing you to get married – in addition to this constant, unrelenting calm, he seemed to feel relieved. You felt it too; you could finally breathe, since not only were you marrying a friend and ally, but you were going to be safe from now on; just like your father's business.

Once you were back at Marion's house, you each holed up in your own bedroom. On your bed were the bags from today's shopping; Bucky's aunt had promised to deliver them home so you wouldn't have to drag them everywhere with you. You laid everything out on the bed – dress, tights, shoes, veil – and looked at all these things. Preparing at the Barnes house under Winnifred and Rebecca's eye had not been a particularly traumatic experience, but now you felt more at ease. Maybe it wasn't so much the fact that you were on your own, but the whole atmosphere? The lack of forcing that Bucky mentioned?

You took another shower, rubbed some lotion on your legs, dried your hair and did some light makeup – it was far too hot for thick layers of foundation or eyeshadow. Besides, Bucky saw you without all that and didn't run away. Well, he did, you thought, but he came back after all.

The open back didn't allow for the presence of a bra, so you only put on your pants – not as stunning as before, but since you were prepared the first time and it was the groom who failed, you now felt completely blameless. Then you slid the fishnets on your legs, gently put on your dress so as not to leave any makeup smudges on it, and with the lack of a big mirror, looking at yourself from above had to be enough. And you were starting to get nervous again, but had already accepted that this was perfectly normal.

You slipped the high heels on your feet, grabbed the veil, then left the room. As you walked down the stairs, as a precaution, you kept your hand on the railing in case you were to twist your ankle in those shoes. Bucky had obviously heard your footsteps, because when you were halfway down, he appeared in the hall. You were able to observe the exact moment when his face took on a soft, slightly amazed expression; his lips almost parted and his breath trapped still in his chest as he watched your every move carefully. You grinned radiantly at him, stopping a few steps before reaching the floor.

He was again wearing a black suit, a black shirt and a black tie, all of which made him radiate an almost crushing power, an extremely strong energy. Even if he seemed to have forgotten the whole world around him.

Bucky approached the stairs slowly; he breathed hard, blinking hurriedly as if he had just been hit on the head. “I could marry you everyday,” he said, without taking his eyes off you; his gaze wandered all over your body, over every detail.

“We're on the right track,” you remarked, allowing yourself a little pinch. After all, you were getting married for the second time in less than a week.

Bucky chewed on his bottom lip, the sheer tenderness left in his eyes. He smiled softly. “Will you really be all mine? Just mine?” he asked surprisingly quietly.

“If you want,” you replied just as gently, and Bucky's mouth stretched into a wider, slightly teasing smile. He held out his hand to you, and as you took it, then stepped completely down the stairs, Bucky brought your hands to his lips and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

While you had been spending the day with Marion, Bucky had been arranging the place where you were to be married. You wanted as close to the date as possible, so it was decided on a small, definitely tacky, but at the same time charming to a fault chapel. Bucky didn't use his influence to get a better venue somewhere else – he may have been a ruthless gangster, heir to the throne of the underworld kingdom, but he wasn't a cold-hearted bastard, and as long as someone else wanted to get married, he wasn't going to disturb anyone. Besides, you didn't need royal conditions and special treatment.

The floor was covered with concrete, the walls were painted pink; there were artificial flowers and most of the space was taken up by cheap plastic chairs. Also pink. And soothingly empty.

A man in an Elvis costume guided you through the vows. And even though you didn't hear a word this time either, your lips moved in line with their content. But you were drowning – you were drowning in that gentle, happy smile of Bucky's; you were drowning in the way he held your hands the whole time – carefully, though he happened to squeeze them in a sort of nervous twitch. You were drowning in his eyes; in that stormy ocean that seemed uncommonly calm – very different from the first ceremony.

Elvis let Bucky kiss you and all you could think about was that you were married. For real. And if he decided to run away now, he would still be your husband.

But he didn't run away; he didn't even look like he was going to run away. He carefully cupped your face, his fingers slipped under your jaw. He smiled at you again with that striking gentleness of a man who might as well have loved you, then placed a cautious kiss on your lips. However, he immediately deepened it and quickly ruined by smiling into your mouth. You smiled back, resting your hands on his. Soon after, he pulled away from you, grabbed one of your wrists and turned it, exposing the cut in your palm. He brushed it with his lips, just as he had the night before, but this time you knew it was with different intentions - to remind you that your blood was still his blood, and his blood was yours; that no matter what, no matter your feelings for each other, no matter the situations you would find yourselves in more than once, you were one; you belonged only to each other.

And then there was that mysterious, suspicious smirk on Bucky's face. In the blink of an eye, he threw you over his shoulder, in the process probably showing Elvis your underwear, and headed for the chapel exit, carrying you – unconcerned in any way; giggling like a teenage girl.

“You didn't mention you have a casino,” you said as the car slowed down in front of the Black Velvet, then turned into the underground parking lot. “So big and beautiful casino,” you added.

“I don't like to brag about all the big and beautiful things I have.” He glanced at you meaningfully. You rolled your eyes, nevertheless unable to hold back an amused smile. “I guess it just never came up,” he answered a little more seriously, shrugging. He turned off the engine, then focused his gaze completely on you.

“You're right,” you agreed. “We were always busy only with my problems.”

“Hey.” He carefully hooked his fingers around your chin, stroked it with his thumb. “From now on, there won't be any problems. Okay?”

It wasn't that simple, there was no way to avoid problems, not in your world. But in that moment Bucky was so convincing you couldn't argue.

“Okay,” you whispered.

You got out of the car, Bucky took your luggage and then you went to the elevator and it took you to the lobby. Bucky led the way to the hotel reception.

“Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.” The young woman behind the counter spoke. “I mean, Mr. Barnes and Mrs…-” She glanced nervously at the computer screen. Bucky looked at you unsurely, as if he didn't know if calling you that way bothered you.

“Yes,” you said hurriedly, not wanting to keep the receptionist in an awkward position. “Sorry, I was just... thinking.” You gave the woman an apologetic smile.

“A honeymoon suite, is that correct?”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered.

The receptionist typed something on the computer, then handed Bucky a key and wished you both a pleasant stay. You were going to ask Bucky to give you your bag, as you could, after all, carry it yourself, but you closed your mouth faster than you opened it when a loud roar reached you: BUCK!

A man you didn't know was heading towards you, but it seemed he wasn't as unknown to Bucky; anyway, probably everyone there knew Bucky Barnes.

“Who are you hiding there, Buck?” he asked. You leaned out from behind Bucky's back and stood right next to him. The man sized you up with a gaze so disgusting you had to stick your eyes somewhere on the floor. “Aren't you going to introduce me?”

“No.”

“Is this your new toy? Since she doesn't have a name…” He raised his eyebrows significantly. Bucky clenched his jaw and let out a heavy breath through his nose; he'd lost any remaining patience, if he had any at all. “Listen, do you fancy a little poker game?” The man was not giving up. You supposed it was most likely the alcohol he had consumed that was blinding him to Bucky's anger.

“Yes, actually, I do,” he replied. Your forehead furrowed as you looked at him. Was he really going to play poker now? “Natalie,” he turned to the receptionist, putting your luggage on the counter in front of her. “Have somebody take this to my room,” Bucky said, and when Natalie nodded, he shifted his gaze to you. An apologetic, affectionate gaze; for although he had just emanated anger, he couldn't direct it at you. “Wait for me there, okay? I'll be with you in a minute.”

And then you watched as, clenching and relaxing his hands, he walked away with a man whose name you didn't even learn.

The honeymoon suite was larger than you'd expected. As in the rest of the casino, or at least the part you had seen, dark colors prevailed there; the navy blue walls were brightened up by the wallpaper behind the bed; the pattern was like golden peacock tails; gold sconces were placed here and there, in case the crystal chandelier couldn't handle all that darkness.

You walked up to a huge window overlooking the city. There have been times when you have preferred your own company, but this evening was not one of them. Was this what Bucky meant when he said he wasn't right for marriage? That he would always choose fun and the company of his buddies over his own wife? But you knew him – maybe not inside out, but well enough to know that he wasn't happy to leave you. Maybe he owed something to that man?

Hearing the door open, you creased your forehead. At first you thought it was room service, but you doubted they would have entered without knocking or any other warning. You also doubted that it was Bucky – after all, it had been about fifteen, twenty minutes at most. You moved tentatively towards the door, leaving the bedroom area. You were wrong – it was Bucky, but he looked a little different. You couldn't tell how different at first, but something was definitely off.

“Did you win?” you asked, watching him with your arms crossed. He was standing by the minibar, preparing a drink, but having caught your voice, he looked over his shoulder.

“Thought you were taking a shower. Or something,” he said. Three ice cubes dropped into a wide crystal glass clinked. “Want one..?”

You expected an explanation. Any kind of explanation. But you were aware that Bucky was not effusive. “Sure.” You sighed quietly and walked closer. As Bucky handed you the glass, you noticed his bruised, bloody knuckles. And it was also then that it occurred to you what was wrong – his clothes seemed to be slightly wrinkled. “What happened?”

Bucky let out a heavy breath but said nothing; instead, he occupied himself with preparing another drink, this time for himself.

“Jamie.” Your voice was soft; you knew you wouldn't convince him to speak with hostility and determination. One of your hands touched his shoulder affectionately; he immediately turned his gaze to it, possibly even to the engagement ring around one of your fingers. “What happened?”

He put down the ice tongs and looked at your face; without taking his eyes off yours, he reached for your hand. He tied his fingers around your wrist and pulled it away from his arm only to close your hand in his. He stroked the top of your hand with his thumb, and you were forced to put your glass down to avoid dropping it.

“That guy, Loonie,” he began. He clenched his jaw helplessly before continuing: “I wanted him to lose some cash first, so I could buy you something pretty. Compensate that you had to meet him.” He smiled without any enthusiasm. “And then I was going to knock his fucking teeth out for running his mouth left and right. But by the time we got to the table, he called my wife a nice piece of ass, so it went faster than I hoped,” he stated emotionlessly, shrugging. “I'm sorry I left you,” he added more gently. “But I couldn't let him walk around and talk shit like that.”

“Bucky…” you whispered, slipping your hand out of his grasp and placing them both on his cheeks. “We need to work on communication, okay? I need to know more about what's going on inside your head.”

Bucky watched your face with heavy breathing; he paused to completely when you touched his face, so now he had to catch up. “I want to kiss you,” he confessed, sending a hot shiver along your spine.

You wanted that too – you wanted him – so you saw no reason why you should make him wait any longer. You moved your hands down to his neck and pulled him closer, making your lips collide. Bucky tightened his fingers on both sides of your body, holding your hips right against his, and he pushed against you enough that you had to lean back. He wasn't pouring the same hunger onto you as he had the night before – now you could feel the need he'd mentioned on your lips, but also the need to take care of you, to hide you from the world.

Without taking his mouth off yours, he straightened up carefully; one of his arms went around your back, the other under your thighs, but as he lifted you up, it slid under the bend of your knees. He carried you back to the bedroom area, put you down on the bed, and unlike the previous time, you refused to let him move away.

“I'm not going anywhere.” Bucky placed a soft kiss on your forehead and stepped back a bit.

You sat up in the middle of the big bed, covered with a dark satin bedspread, and lifted your gaze to Bucky. His fingers nimbly undid one shirt button after another, revealing more and more of his naked torso. Your throat dried up again at the sight; you wanted to touch him, or help him take off his clothes faster; you wanted to take off your own, but you were unable to move - you stared at Bucky with fascination and slight insecurity.

The black shirt landed on the floor, right next to the jacket. Your eyes traced Bucky's shoulders, his arms tensing with every movement; and you stopped on his hands – beautiful hands that suffered, bringing justice to your case. He would never let anyone hurt you, not even with a wrong look or the bad words.

His pants fell to his ankles; he stepped out of them and climbed onto the bed, sitting right in front of you. Tentatively, you reached behind your back; you found the short zipper - because of your exposed back, you might as well have taken the dress off without unzipping it, but maybe subconsciously you wanted to buy yourself more time before baring yourself completely.

You lowered your gaze, your cheeks burning. “Could you help me?”

“Unzip the dress..?”

“Take it off,” you corrected, a slight frustration in your voice.

“Y/N,” Bucky said calmly, lifting your chin for you to look at him. “We don't have to do this if you're not ready.”

“I am,” you protested. You were ready for him the previous night, but then your head was occupied with something else; you didn't have that sober realization that Bucky would see you naked any minute. “It’s just… I'm a little nervous.”

“It's okay. I'm nervous, too.” He smiled softly. “Do you still want me to help you with the dress..?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. Bucky reached for the fabric on your shoulders and slowly, delicately pulled it down, exposing your breasts. He let out the air that had accumulated in his lungs, blowing a cool breath over them; brushing your heated skin, your hardened nipples.

“I see no reason to be nervous here,” he claimed, lifting his eyes to yours. “You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen.”

You blushed, rolling your eyes. “That’s not true.”

“And how would you know?” He raised his eyebrows. “You have a beautiful body, I promise. Let me show you.” He reached to your wrists and embraced them carefully, then directed your hands to your chest; he placed your hands on your breasts, covering them with his own. He tightened his fingers so that you did the same – so that your palms squeezed your own breasts. “Feel that? Feel how beautiful it is?” Bucky asked in a whisper, and you parted your lips slightly to breathe. Without taking his hands off yours, he slid them lower; over your ribs, stomach and hips, down to your thighs. As you looked away from what your hands were doing, you saw Bucky studying your face. You glanced at his lips and he leaned towards you and pushed against yours, therefore forcing you to lie down with his own body.

He pulled your dress down over your legs and threw it somewhere on the floor, then your tights. Soon you felt the weight of his body on yours again – he was pleasantly closing you into some sort of safe space.

Bucky once again pressed a kiss to your lips with the longing you already knew, but also with the restraint. You didn't want anything to hold him back, so you immediately deepened the caress, invading between his lips. He murmured with delight, eagerly accepting your tongue, which effortlessly found his. They tangled together in the same wet, warm, sticky mess, but this time without the hunger there – you were giving each other time and space to explore your bodies; Bucky massaging your tongue with his pleasurably enough so that you couldn't be impatient.

One of his hands cupped your breast, he stroked your hard nipple with his thumb and you gasped and twitched under his touch. He began to roll circles on it, pulled away from your mouth and went lower to grab the other of your nipples between his teeth. He bit it gently and then sucked on it, teasing this one of the many tender points with his tongue. Your breathing became uneven, shallow. You felt the throbbing heat between your legs, your pants soaked with your burning need to be filled.

Bucky placed several kisses below your breasts and on your stomach, leaving a wet trail down to your belly button. He hooked his fingers around the edge of your underwear and pulled it down; you lifted your hips to make it easier for him to get rid of that too.

You felt his heated, soft lips on the inside of one of your thighs. He sucked at your skin in that spot.

“Bucky,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” he answered quietly.

“I need you inside me. Now,” you said, not quite believing that this desperate request had left your mouth. But you were too dazed with desire, too smitten with everything he was doing to you. “Please.”

“You don't have to ask me for anything, baby,” Bucky protested immediately. He took off his underwear and towered over you again. You stared at the taut length between his legs.

Bucky grabbed his cock and, settling more comfortably between your thighs, directed it at your wet, waiting entrance; he brushed hard against it with the head, and you moaned uncontrollably. Soon you felt his tip thrust into you cautiously but firmly; Bucky groaned softly, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes. Yes,” You replied without thinking. Bucky thrust his hips against yours, sliding in full length. You parted your lips and a hollow breath escaped your throat.

He began to move; slowly and gently at first, so that he could study the new territory, and your every little reaction. You placed one of your hands on the nape of his neck, then slid your fingers into his hair and clenched them there, giving release to the pleasure rippling through your body. You looked into Bucky's eyes while doing so, and although your mind was working less and less consciously, you could see some nervousness in them.

“Jamie,” you said. Your voice was now a mixture of soft moans and heavy, shaky breaths. “Relax. Everything is..- f-fine,” you assured honestly. Bucky smiled crookedly, but without conviction. “Come here.” Your hand put a little pressure on the back of his neck, making him lean even closer to you. You kissed him as much as your parted lips would allow, your other hand clenching on his shoulder; your nails dug somewhere into his shoulder blade, and Bucky let out a quiet whimper. Immediately afterwards, he placed a few wet, sloppy kisses on your cheek, and his movements quickened – still not very rapid, but his dick was rubbing against your walls, stretching you again and again, bringing almost overwhelming pleasure.

You could feel his hot breath on the side of your face as he moaned softly directly into your ear – something you would never expect from him, but the sounds only intensified the sensations. That was enough for you to reach orgasm – just listening to the evidence of the pleasure he was taking from your body.

You couldn't bear it any longer. You wanted the whole act to last for an eternity, but the built-up tension in your lower stomach had to explode eventually. Your head tilted back, your back detached from the mattress, arching; your whole body stiffened, paralyzed by the satisfaction spilling everywhere. Only after a moment were you able to let out a few shallow, quick breaths that had previously been stuck in your throat.

Bucky pressed his mouth to yours again; first he could barely kiss you; dazed by the sensation, and then his lips parted over yours, making you breathe only each other's air; your breath belonged to him, and his breath was yours and yours alone.

Bucky's body tensed as well; he froze in place, letting out a raspy grunt. He closed his eyes, and you watched his face flush with relief. You placed your hands on his cheeks and stroked the rough, heated surface. Bucky looked at you sleepily.

“Hi,” you whispered, giving him a gentle smile. He returned the gesture, but much more lightly.

“Hi,” he answered in the same tone, leaning over to kiss your lips again. Then he went back to resting on his elbows, without taking his eyes off your face, and with a caution still unfamiliar to you, he brushed a few strands of hair away from your forehead.

“Wasn't it too vanilla for your taste?” you asked suddenly.

Bucky furrowed, smiling with hesitation. “What?” he snorted.

“You know, vanilla in a way-”

“Yeah, I know what it means.” He slid out of you, making you flinch slightly, then collapsed into the spot beside you. A sudden, uncomfortable coldness washed over your body, so you reached for the edge of the satin bedspread and covered yourself with it.

Bucky turned his head so he could look at you. He reached out and brushed his knuckles against your cheek. “I don't know what you like. I didn't want to be too rough with you, didn't want to hurt you,” he said. “But we'll work on that. Figure it out.”

“I'm open to everything.” You shrugged. Bucky laughed quietly.

Holding the bedspread over your breasts, you sat up. “I need a shower.” You sighed. Looking around the bed, you realized that you were unlikely to be able to wrap yourself in the bedspread and take it to the bathroom.

“Do you want me to close my eyes?” Bucky asked; he was not mean or even biting, there was a sincere wish in his voice to make every little step easier for you. Nevertheless, he smirked with soft amusement, putting you in a somewhat better mood as well.

“You don’t have to.” You let go of the fabric, but immediately crossed your arms over your chest, covering your breasts.

“Alright, I'm not looking.”

When you glanced at him, his eyes were indeed closed. You grinned to yourself, got up from the bed, and, having grabbed your bag, snuck into the bathroom.

It was something completely new – being touched by him in that way. Before, he had seemed to be cold, rough, maybe even indifferent to you, but for some time now you had the opportunity to get to know his softer, vulnerable side. You knew that he was caring, but you suspected until now that this had a kind of sterile, professional dimension. Now you saw it in a slightly different light.

While Bucky was in the shower and you in bed, you decided to text Suzie. You exchanged a few messages, but in the end you didn't reveal to her exactly where you were and why. You got the impression that Bucky had made an effort to make it a secret, so you weren't going to reveal it. At the same time you were texting with Connie, or rather sent her an emoji of a ring, a chapel and a bride. In response, you received an eggplant with a question mark, and although you snorted with laughter, you decided to leave it on read.

You lifted your eyes from the screen, hearing the click of the bathroom door – in nothing but his briefs, Bucky ran his fingers through his damp hair. You had seen more, much more, but you were still impressed by the sight.

He slipped under the covers and you put the phone down on the bedside table, then adjusted your pillow so you could lie down. As you did so, you were overwhelmed by a tiredness you hadn't felt before – all the emotions of the day had sucked all the energy out of you. On the other hand, you again were a little anxious about sleeping in one bed with Bucky.

“You okay?” he asked as if he was reading your mind.

“Yeah,” you lied smoothly. “Goodnight,” you added, plastering a slight smile on your face, and turned your back to him.

“What are you doing?” The harmless amusement rang in his voice again.

“I don't want you to watch me sleep. It's… You know.”

He didn't say anything. What you received in response was the rustling of the bedding and the mattress sinking beneath you. Bucky lay down right behind you, pressing his body against your back, and carefully put his arm over your waist, leaving it near your stomach. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Great,” he replied, then let out a heavy breath, tickling your bare shoulder.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign @xhollycowx @samfreakingwinchester @thrnlvr @samjuarezzz @loustan90 @kandis-mom @abaker74

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ttenvely · 8 months

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BAE SUZY GIF PACK

In the source link below, you will find 132 gifs in 245x150 of BAE SUZY (1994) in Ashfall (2019). She is of Korean descent, so please cast accordingly. All gifs were made from scratch by me and are for roleplay purposes only. Please consider giving this a reblog if using or if you found this to be useful. Do not repost or claim as your own. If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

#bae suzy gif pack #bae suzy gif hunt #bae suzy #gif pack #rph #gifsociety #gifpackshq #gmcentral #asiarph #fcxdirectory

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 11 months

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Suzie, Do You Copy?

pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader

WC: 5.2K

warnings: cussing, steve and reader being in love (disgusting). should be it.

summary: Fourth of July is just around the corner. First month of summer moved by in a flash, your busy with work, trying to spend time with your friends and family, and making sure you get to smother your boyfriend in all the love he deserves. But just how long will this peace last?

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG - The Byers Harrington Story- MY FAVORITE SEASON IS FINALLY HERE!!!!! if you have an updated username when you first joined the taglist please let me know what the old name was and give me to new one so you get the notifications.

this has been sitting since january 1st…

@alecmores 💗

series masterlist / steve harrington

previous chapter next chapter

With the mall buzzing with life on the final day of June, Scoops Ahoy luckily wasn’t packed to the teeth with customers. The booths and tables had barely a handful of occupants, a couple sharing a milkshake, friends laughing and gossiping over their cups or cones in one of the corner booths, and a single mom with her child who was sloppily indulging in their sweet treat. People come in and out of the store with their desserts to continue browsing the giant structure.

Robin was stationed at the counter, scooping orders and ringing their prices. Steve was busting some tables in the lobby before his fifteen started, and you were in the back checking the inventory. Somehow you got bumped to assistant manager, a mystery still swimming in your brain.

Even with it being summer in Hawkins, you had to bring a nice sweater with you for every shift since you’ll most likely end up in the freezer for a few hours, jotting down what flavors are running low, what requires reordering and what flavors need to be pushed more. Sometimes when you run into Robin or Steve after leaving the ice box, the nickname you gave it, they’ll make a quick joke about your flushed cheeks or bright nose.

“Can’t believe I still make you blush after six months of dating.” or “Christmas isn’t for another six months, Rudolph.”

Just as you finished your inventory check of the night, the solid metal door slamming close behind you, Steve pushes through the swinging doors for his break. He threw the dirty rag and disinfectant spray in a bucket beside the sink, as you dropped the clipboard to the tiny table in the middle of the room and stripped your jacket off your shoulders.

“So, what’s the news?” Steve always asked that same question when you were done with your checklist.

“Uh,” you leaned above the paper, eyes squinting a bit, “need more strawberries, a giant tub of raspberry cheesecake is set to expire next month on the twelfth, and we need more rocky road.”

You sat in the chair beside Steve, head resting in your palm with your elbow poking at the tabletop. Your eyes were drooping, wishing so badly to just rest your head against your pillow and knockout. Steve must’ve noticed your tiredness, his eyes peeking into your view along with a poke to your free cheek.

“Tired?” You just nodded. “Was it another nightmare?”

You hesitated in answering but knew Steve would find out either way, “yeah. It involved you and Will. Wasn’t pretty. I almost called-”

“Why didn’t you?” He interrupted. “Steve, I didn’t want to wake you, plus, it wasn’t crazy horrible. I was just… just shook me up a little.” A truth and a lie.

He sighed, “(Y/n),” he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned your attention to him, “if you ever have a nightmare, whether I’m in it or not, please just call me. I will come over without hesitation, you know I’m always looking for an excuse to stay at your place.” A gentle smile brightened his face.

“You know my mom is okay with you staying over.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Plus, Jonathan probably needs space from me now and then.” Their relationship was still a bit rocky, but Steve was constantly working on fixing it, and Jonathan was just… allowing it to happen.

“Speaking of staying over,” you twisted in your seat so your knees were touching, “wanna come over tonight? After last night, I could use my human body pillow.”

Steve laughed, “oh, that’s all I am to you? A body pillow?”

“Well, among many other things,” you started to lean forward, hoping Steve got the message with your action.

And just when he started to meet you halfway, lips inches from connecting, the front bell began to chime repeatedly. Instead of your lips meeting in a sweet, sugar-tasting kiss, your foreheads connected. Steve’s eyes closed and he breathed a sigh through his nose, while you rubbed your lips together to stop a smile.

“Hey, lovebirds, your children are here.” Robin’s teasing voice floated from the front counter through the sliding window.

Steve reluctantly pulled away and threw open the divider. He rested his right arm along the white counter while his left was propped up. From your seat, you could see Mike, Will, Lucas, and Max formed in their huddle.

“Again? Seriously?” He took a glance at you then back to the four, “(Y/n) could ban you idiots.”

“I could, but I do have a bit of a soft spot for them,” you cringed at the flabbergasted look Steve was throwing you.

And when it looked like he was about to say something, another ding stole the attention. Mike’s bored face stared back.

“Well, except for Mike sometimes.” You mumbled before you motioned for them to come to the back.

You opened the back entrance, and one by one they entered the long hallway. With Will being the last one out, you ruffled his growing bowl cut, “you want a ride home?”

He walked backward, front facing you with his back to his friends, “I’ll stop by after the movie and tell you.” He then flipped around and hurried to join the other three.

Steve walked out in the hallway, hands resting at his hips, “I swear if anybody hears about this-” “We’re dead!” They all cut him off. “Have fun!” You chimed in.

You both waited until they turned the corner and were out of sight before heading back to the store. Steve took the free opportunity to pull you into his arms, back flush again his chest with his arms wrapped tight around your stomach. His head dipped down so his lips lined with your ear, “I think I was promised something before we were rudely interrupted.”

A joyful smile took over you, “oh really? I didn’t know we were handing out prizes at work now.”

“Oh, yeah. Helps boost employee morale or something.”

“Morale? Didn’t know we were in need of boosting.”

The two of you continue your slow waddle into the breakroom, Steve not losing his grip.

“Well, me, I personally could use a boost.” He finally freed you from his tight grasp, just allowing you to spin so you were chest to chest.

“And what could boost your morale, Harrington?”

“Hm?” He hummed with a finger at his chin, really playing up his act, “Oh! What about a kiss from a lovely girl? And may the lovely girl be you, Byers?”

You copied his theatrical gesture, brows furrowed, eyes squinted, with a finger pressed to your pursed lips in fake thought.

“Why not,” you faked enthusiasm that Steve fully saw through.

Steve went with his signature kissing maneuver. His large hands rested on the sides of your face, pinkies resting just under your ears, while his thumbs swiped across your plush cheeks. You would either hold his wrist as you pushed to your tip toes or Steve would already be leaning down and you would hold him in place with your hands at his face or arms wrapped around his neck. Today it was the latter, Steve being very eager to get his kiss before something or someone could stop it from happening.

And when his lips melted into yours, a steady rhythm was building, with hands wandering from their original spots. And just before it could go any further, your bliss was broken by someone loudly coughing. The two of you broke apart and turned to the point of noise.

Robin had a disgusted scowl painted across her face with her arms crossed over her chest, “Harrington, I need you up front with me while (Y/n) goes on her break.” She turned to head back up front before twisting back, “and (Y/n), you promised to keep PDA to a very low minimum at work. For my pure eyes.”

“Sorry, Robs.”

She pushed the saloon doors open when the ring of the front bell went off. You gave Steve one quick peck to the lips before pushing at his chest, “you heard the boss, go help up front.” With that you separated, Steve was forced to do his job and you grabbed your wallet so you could get your dinner at the food court, also for Robin and Steve.

“Okay, so I’m gonna head to the food court, you two want anything?” You said with your head poking through the divider.

Robin and Steve were both helping customers so you waited with patience for them to respond to you. As you waited, you unabashedly watched Steve while he scooped ice cream, and as you were mesmerized by his biceps, the lights turned off.

“That’s weird,” Steve voiced before walking to the switch.

You and Robin watched as he flicked it on and off, continuing to mess with it even though it showed no results. Your heart rate was slowly picking up speed with the length of the lights being off.

“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin pointed out.

“Oh, really?” Steve shot back before going back to flicking the switch even faster.

Still, nothing was happening, and he finally stopped. You curled your nails into your palms, needing to feel something. Steve went back to flicking the switch, slower this time. And on the fifth time, when he flicked the switch on the lights returned to life.

“Let there be light,” and he went back to the ice cream.

Robin just glared at him before turning to you, “what a guy,” And before she could make a snide comment, she leaned in closer, “are you- are you okay? You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“Yeah, yeah, just not a fan of the dark. Uh, you want- you want anything, from the food court?” Needing to change the subject quickly.

She looked at you with hesitation, but played along, “uh, Orange Julius. My usual.” And she turned to the register, Steve taking her spot.

“You want anything from the food court?” “A coke and fries from Burger King, please.”

With their orders, you left the shop to officially start your hour break.

…

You ate your pancakes and eggs in the slow morning quiet. Will was beside you as he leaned over and grabbed another pancake, but you smacked his hand causing him to drop it.

“What?”

“Save that for Steve. You got enough on your plate.” And you shoved a fork of eggs into your mouth.

You heard a door open and footsteps before Steve came into view at the end of the hall. You flashed him a smile as he took the seat across from Will, while he took the plate where the leftover pancakes and eggs sat.

“Thank you, Ms. Byers.” Steve’s voice was deep from just waking up.

She flailed a hand, “how many times do I have to tell you, Steve? You can call me, Joyce.”

“I’ll probably need a few more reminders before it sticks.” He chuckled and then reached for the syrup.

Soon Jonathan’s door cracked open and he was rushing out while finishing his buttons. Joyce rushed over to him, Jonathan slowing his steps. You noticed the faint lipstick kiss on his cheek, but no Nancy behind him.

“Wait up.” Joyce stopped him.

“Oh, no, I’ll eat at work. I’m late.”

“No, your cheek.” And she swiped at the makeup.

Jonathan moved her hand away, “all right, all right. I gotta run. See you later.”

“Tell Nancy she can leave through the front door next time,” you yelled before the front door shut with a slam.

“Ugh. Gross.” Will muttered as Joyce walked back to her seat.

“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna think it’s gross when you fall in love.” She looked from Will to you and Steve, “just look at (Y/n) and Steve. Don’t you want what they have?”

Will eyed the both of you, you and Steve stopped eating to hear what Will was gonna say, “what? Constantly eating each other's faces?”

“Dude, come on.” You groaned at Will while Steve just laughed.

“But, Will,” Steve stopped laughing and looked directly at Will, “I’m sure you’ll find a special girl later in life. You’re a catch.”

“I’m not gonna fall in love,” Will mumbled as he poured syrup over his food.

You heard the hidden pain in his words and understood why he thought he wasn’t gonna fall in love. You gave a slight tap to Will’s foot, his eyes looking your way and you threw a small smile to show just an ounce of your love and support for him.

“What- what happened here?” Joyce muttered as she walked near the fridge.

You and Will watched as she picked up a pile of papers and magnets that must have fallen off the fridge in the middle of the night. You saw how she looked at a drawing Will did for Bob, her hand lingering before joining the three of you at the table.

“So, Will, have any plans today?” You questioned him with a mouth full of pancakes.

“Dustin’s coming home from camp today, so we’re going to surprise him at his house. Ms. Henderson was really excited about the idea.”

“Oh! You guys should try and stop by today if you have time. I know Steve is just dying to see Dustin, aren’t you Stevie?” Your attention is on him now.

You spotted the slight flush to his ears but didn’t comment on it. Steve nodded his head while chewing his food before speaking, “yeah, really miss the know it all.” A tease mixed with fondness.

…

You had a lovely day off today, but sadly Steve and Robin had to work. So you dropped Steve off at the mall, drove off in his BMW, promised to pick him and Robin up at the end of their shift, and decided to keep Joyce company at Melvard’s. With Starcourt bringing newer stores and better work, downtown was empty. Ghost of stores that used to be full of business and life was now just rotting buildings with their windows papered over, and envelopes stuffed at the doorway.

When you pulled up to the storefront, through the window you watched Joyce hanging a giant sale sign, fifty to seventy percent off everything. It worried you knowing that Melvard’s was probably the next store to go out of business, the one store that Joyce has worked at for as long as you can remember. You knew small little Hawkins couldn’t stay the same forever, it still worried you every day.

The bell jingled at your arrival, Joyce already smiling at your visit.

“Hi, honey. What’s up?” She hopped off the little stool and met you halfway.

You shrugged, “wanted to keep you company for a bit. Jonathan’s at work, Will’s welcoming Dustin back, and my friend and boyfriend are working today.”

“Wha- what about your other friend? That- that Munson kid?” “Uh, I heard he went out of town for a few weeks or something.” You threw your arms over Joyce’s shoulders with your face pressed to her neck, “you don’t want your favorite child visiting you?”

Her arms wrapped around your waist, “well, I don’t see Will anywhere…”

You pulled away with a hurt gasp, “mother, I am hurt. Your only daughter, how could you?”

The two of you burst into giggles over your dramatics and before you could be carried any further the bell rang again. Two pairs of eyes landing on, “hi, Hopper.” A wave thrown his way which he returned with a gentle smile.

“Sorry for interrupting-”

“Oh, it’s fine, Hop. What can we do? Or whoever you need.” Joyce started to walk away to the cash register. You stayed behind, taking note of the nervous look on Hopper’s face. Joyce turned around at the quiet coming from the tall man and scoffed, “what now?” This must have been a recurring thing between them.

“(Y/n), could you grab the pricing gun and follow me?” And she headed to an aisle with Hopper in tow.

“So Mike was at the cabin again last night, the two of them in her room, being gross. They were giggling and kissing,” Hopper looked like he wanted to throw up at the memory, “and I always make sure that her door is open three inches, so I took a peek inside to make sure nobody was crossing a line. And when I saw them kissing and called them out-”

“Could you mark this side while I do the wall? Should be three dollars, everything.” Joyce stopped Hopper's story to instruct you. “You can continue, Hopper,” you said as you walked past him.

It was a few seconds before he spoke up again, “and- and then El, she just… slams the door. Right in my face.”

“Uh-huh?” Joyce absent-mindedly responded.

“You know, it’s that smug son of a bitch, Mike. He’s corrupting her, I’m telling you.” Footsteps sounded against the cool tile, “and I’m just gonna lose it. I mean, I am gonna lose it, Joyce.”

“Just take it down, Hopper.” Her voice sounded on the other side of your aisle.

“I need them to break up.” Hopper’s voice was firm.

“That is not your decision to make.” Joyce continued to price variest items.

“They’re spending entirely too much time together. You agree with me about that, right?” Hopper stood from his spot.

“Well, (Y/n) and Steve spend a lot of time together, at work and outside. And I mean, they’re just kissing, right?” Joyce pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s constant. It is constant.” Hopper sounded like he was gonna blow a top.

You were about to voice an opinion of yours, but Joyce beat you to speaking first, “Oh, you should hear what Will says about (Y/n) and Steve, especially this morning-”

“Mom! Don’t say stuff like that.” You groaned.

“What- I’m just trying to help Hopper with examples.”

“Yeah, but I’m- Steve and I, we’re adults. It’s a bit more acceptable than when two, what, thirteen-year-olds do it. Look it sounds nice that El has someone she likes being around, but she and Mike are practically attached at the hip. And also add to the fact that they can’t stop sucking face, it’s gross. I’m gonna have to side with Hopper.”

Hopper points a hand at you, “thank you. You see, it’s not normal, it’s not healthy.”

“Well, you can’t just force them apart. I mean, they’re not little kids anymore, Hop. They’re teenagers.” Hopper walked his way over to Joyce, you following behind, “and (Y/n), you and Steve aren’t adults yet, the both of you are still teenagers as well.”

“Steve’s birthday is next month, he’ll be nineteen.” Thinking that’ll help your argument.

“Yeah, well, when he hits twenty-one and when you hit twenty-one, I’ll consider the both of you pre-adults. And when you hit twenty-five, that’s when you’re a full-fledged adult. Now, Hop,” her attention is done with you and back to Hopper who was throwing something into the air before catching it, “if you order them around like a cop, then they’re gonna rebel. It’s just what they do.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“So what, I’m just supposed to let them do whatever they want?” Hopper flayed his arms out.

Joyce huffed, “no, I- I didn’t say that. I think you should… talk to them.” Pricing a box of Tampax.

“No. No. ‘Cause talking doesn’t work.”

“Not yelling. Not ordering. But talk to them. I do it with my kids, right, (Y/n)?”

Hopper turned towards you, waiting for any answer, “oh yeah. Little one-on-ones with each other. Heart-to-hearts, you know?”

Hopper’s eyes looked away from you for a moment like he was mulling over your words. “A heart-to-heart? What is that?” He fidgeted with his hat.

“Well,” Joyce jumped back in, “you sit them down and you talk to them like you’re their friend. I find if you talk to them like you’re on their level,” Hopper leaned against a beam, “then they start to listen. And then, you know, you could start to create some boundaries.”

“Boundaries,” Hopper whispered.

“Yeah, but, Hop, it’s really important that no matter how they respond, you stay calm. You cannot lose your temper.” You noted the eye roll followed by his fingers tapping along the pillar.

“Uh… maybe you could do it for me? Or (Y/n), even, she could do it. El likes you.” A glance your way before it was back on Joyce.

“No. And I say that for both of us. You need to do this on your own, Hop.” “Besides, I’d rather stay on the outside of this situation, it’s not our place. You’re her legal guardian, Hopper.” You added your input, but Hopper just waved you off and looked to Joyce.

“No, no, yeah. Yeah, you could. You come over after work.” He stomped towards her.

“No.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head, “no, it will only work if it comes from you. But…” She trailed off while walking to the counter, “maybe I can help you…” she grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, “I can help you find the right words.” She began to scribble words down with Hopper leaning in.

You watched the two of them, how Joyce was mouthing words to herself as she thought about them before writing them on the page. Noting that Hopper’s eyes glanced in her direction every few seconds before looking away like he didn’t want to get caught sneaking looks her way. It felt a bit wrong to observe them, but there was something that just piqued your interest.

Before you got carried away in your people-watching, a blur of motion was caught in your periphery making you jerk your head towards the store windows. And you saw Nancy rushing away before she disappeared from view.

…

“I know this is a difficult conversation to have… but I hope you know that I… care about you very much. And I know that you-”

“Eye contact.”

Hopper sighed at Joyce’s interruption. You just sat beside her with your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I know that you… both care about each other very much- this does not sound like me at all.”

“Well, you never know. As long as you don’t strangle Mike, it’s a win.” You tried to joke, but it wasn’t working.

Joyce threw a hand over your mouth, “just keep going. Come on.” She encouraged him with a smile.

Hopper took a breath, “which is why I think it’s important to establish these boundaries… moving forward…” he looked down at the lined paper.

“No looking. You know this. Come on.”

“...so we can build an environment… uh… where we… all feel comfortable and trusted and open… to share our feelings- this isn’t gonna work.” Hopper stood from his seat and walked to the empty side of Joyce, “um, it’s not gonna work. It’s not gonna work.” He kept repeating.

“Yes, it will! I promise.” “Just gotta put a bit more… emotion into it,” again, Hopper wasn’t enjoying your criticism.

“Maybe I’ll just kill Mike. I’m the chief of police, I could cover it up.”

“I’ll be your alibi.” You said in all seriousness. You saw the shake of Hopper’s shoulders, a quiet chuckle.

“Come on. You got this.” Joyce clasped their hands together.

Again you watched as they held each other's gazes, neither one breaking or pulling their hands apart. You saw the tiny smile hidden by his thick mustache, you couldn’t see Joyce’s face, but you knew there was a similar expression gracing her face.

After a minute or two of the growing silence, Hopper broke it first, “you wanna have dinner tonight?”

And that was your cue to leave.

You jumped off the counter and made your way toward the entrance, “Uh, I gotta get going. Steve and Robin are probably missing my wonderful presence.”

Joyce broke her stare with Hopper, “Okay, honey. I’ll see you at home?”

“Yeah, if anything changes, I’ll call you. Bye Hopper.” He waved you off and you were out of the store and into the maroon BMW.

…

With the summer heat growing a bit more as the day went on, the mall was packed with dozens of people. Some just sit at the food court with a book in hand or a group of friends going from store to store with shopping backs held in their grasp as they chat away. Not a single one of them knew of the dangers that have slipped into Hawkins during the dead of night, the things you’ve seen and experienced. You wished you could live like them, oblivious and in peace.

In your spaced-out mind, you reached the brightly colored ice cream parlor in no time, brain lagging for a minute.

“-n). (Y/n), hello.” It sounded like you were underwater and whoever was calling to you was muffled by the waves.

The trance ended when the person shook your shoulder, head snapping in their direction with wide eyes.

“You okay?” Robin’s husky voice was a whisper.

You blinked a few times, “uh, yeah. Yeah, just- just tired, I guess.” You saw the look in Robin’s eyes, she didn’t believe you, “good shift?” You tried to change the subject.

She hesitated before responding, “busy as usual. Along with your boy toy not being able to stop crying for you.” A playful roll of her eyes.

You grinned at that, “Speaking of my ‘boy toy’, where is he?”

“Disappeared somewhere like ten minutes ago,” she shrugged.

You questioned it, but didn’t voice it, “wanna get lunch with us when you’re done? You wanted a ride home anyway.”

“I guess, but all hands within eyesight and no kissing… I’ll allow one cheek kiss. But after that, I’ll throw myself down the escalator if I’m forced to witness your sickening love.”

“Oh, that’s such a nice sacrifice on your part, Robin.” Stretching the sarcastic tone.

Again, she rolled her eyes and turned her back on you before pushing the backroom doors open. You followed a step behind and sat across from her, her legs stretched over the small square table. You swatted at her beat-up converses, “can you get your dirty feet off the table? We eat here.”

“And we also clean it, so it should matter.”

“Not all of us clean it…” you trailed off.

Robin just rolled her eyes at the comment. The two of you chatted a bit, bits of gossip Robin heard from passing customers, what you did while away from work and you made a light mention of the Mike dilemma with Hopper. A joke was thrown in here and there causing the both of you to release loud chuckles that presumably drifted into the dining area.

Your chuckles died off when you heard the hinges of the doors squeak followed by hands resting on your shoulders. You leaned your head back, your round dome mushing into starchy fabric, but you had a lovely sight before you.

“Hi, Stevie,” a beaming smile erupted.

“Hi baby,” he leaned down and kissed your forehead, “I’ve missed you.”

“Hmm, Robin told me you were, and I quote ‘crying for my presence’. Thought you could handle a few hours away from my quiet self.” A tilt of your head finished your sentence.

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I always want to be around you. Like… you’re like air. I need you every second to live or I’ll die.” His thumbs swiped along your jawline.

You peered at him with wide eyes with your mouth agape, startled by this sudden admission. You wanted to make a joke, something to break the silence, but you knew if you joked when Steve just said those, it would leave cracks in his heart. So the most you could do at the moment was beam him a smile and twine your hands together.

“Ugh, I’m gonna barf.” Robin broke the lovely spell.

You bit your lip to stop the childish smile that wanted to follow her comment. Steve huffed and moved to the seat that was in the middle of yours and Robins. He ran a hand through his hair before moving it to his cheek and leaning into his palm with his eyes zeroed in on you.

“What?” You asked after a beat of silence.

You couldn’t see the smile, but you saw his cheeks move, “you’re just really pretty.”

“Well I think you’re pretty, without a doubt,” you tried to argue back, not being able to handle compliments thrown your way.

Steve shook his head, strands of chestnut hair touching his forehead, “nope. Nobody comes close to the beauty you radiate.”

You fidgeted with your hands before covering your face, not being able to handle the sweet honey dripping from Steve’s lips or the loving gaze that was staring down into your soul.

“Guys, what have I said? No PDA! For the love of my sanity, please.” Robin’s voice cracked at the end.

“We aren’t doing any PDA, Buckley. I’m just making sure my girl knows how loved and gorgeous she is.” Steve shrugged like it was nothing.

“Yeah, well it feels like I’m being forced to watch the two of you kiss. It’s so- ugh!” She threw her head back before smacking a hand into Steve’s bicep, “stop eye fucking her! I’m right here! Save that for private time, please.” Her hands clasped together, really begging for a reprieve from the two of you.

“Guess you don’t want a ride home then,” Steve spoke as he stood from his seat.

“Honestly if this keeps up, I’ll for sure just take the bus home.” She grumbled.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at their friendly banter, the two of them firing at each other just as the other shoots back. You can’t help but think that these two people somehow became friends on their own, with very little push coming from your end. It made you happy, one of your best friends and your boyfriend getting along well with or without you around.

“Okay, okay. Let’s put the claws away and let's get food because I am starving.” You mediated the situation from going any further.

“Yeah, whatever. Harrington’s paying for me,” Robin walked away to grab her backpack. Steve was opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

You just held your hands up, “you were eye fucking me earlier, this would make up for it.” A stupid reason, but you knew Steve would give in either way.

And with a simple roll of his stunning brown eyes, you knew he caved. And pretty quickly, might be a new record.

“You’re very lucky that I would do anything for you.”

“And that includes buying Robin’s lunch. Like the good friend, you are to her.” A quick tap to Steve’s chest.

When Robin came back the both of you left Steve behind and walked out of the store with your faces close together as you gossip around the fast-paced bystanders. And if one of those topics involved Steve… he didn’t need to know any of the tiny details.

...

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buckyswintersoldiermask · 1 year

Text

Split

Steve Rogers x Wife! Reader, Fem!Reader x OCs

Steve Masterlist

Summary: Steve's commitment issues turn his world upside down.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: mention of divorce

A/N: I love nomad Steve <3

I’m sorry I wasn’t here to drive you to school. You’ll do great on your assignment! Have a great day. I love you. Love dad

Love you bug, have a good day. Daddy will be home to play dolls as soon as he can.

Something came up and I had to leave really early. I love you, Darling, I'll pick up the girls and take them out for ice cream.

Those were the notes Steve left you and the girls today: another early morning and late night. Steve was always working but he never forgot the important things. He always made each note specific. You quickly put together your daughter's lunches, since you forgot to pack them the night before. You made sure to put their notes from their father and a note from you inside.

Once you finished that you went to finish getting ready so you would all be on time. After putting on your outfit and doing your hair, it was getting close to the time you needed to leave. “Sarah and Stephanie Rogers! Let’s go!” You called out, grabbing your things. Your daughters rush downstairs, with their backpacks in hand, ready to go. Both of them looked around searching for their father.

“Mom? Where’s daddy?” Stephanie asked.

“He had to go to work early today, he left a note in both of your lunchboxes.” You replied, ushering your daughters out the door.

Stephanie was a daddy’s girl. She was Steve’s mini-me. She was always trying to be just like her daddy. So his absences hurt her the most.

“So, Daddy said he’s going to pick you both up after school and take you to get ice cream.” You said ushering them out of the house and locking the door behind you. You got them in the car and drove them to school. The girls sat in silence as you drove, you knew exactly why. You hated dropping them off without them seeing their father, but you knew you had to.

After saying your goodbyes you headed to work. You had a typical desk job, as a Marketing Manager. You worked a simple 9 to 5, unlike your husband. Being at the company for over 10 years, you made your way up.

You trudged into work and went straight to your office. You weren’t exactly a boss but you had been working there for years when they promoted you. You placed your bag down and put your lunch in your mini fridge before looking at your unread emails. Click. Click.

It was normal for Steve to go in early for work, he’d wake you up that morning before leaving and tell you he had to go. He’d make the girls lunches and write them little notes to make them smile at lunch. He was a pretty great father for someone with an unexpected work schedule, but to you, it wasn’t enough.

“Rough morning?” You heard a voice, which you turned around to see. It was your work friend, Suzie. Suzie has been working there a lot less than you have, she transferred from another job in Ohio. Suzie was a few years younger than you, with no boyfriend, no kids, just Suzie.

“Steve went into work early today and of course the girls missed him, it was hard dropping them off.”

“Well, they know he’s fighting to protect his family.” Suzie insisted, but you couldn’t help but think how unfair it is to your daughters.

“Yeah. It’s just not fair to the girls, they deserve to be fought for,” you continued,” what’s new with you?”

“I came into work early, boss needed me. Been here since 7.” Suzie responded, glancing at her watch.

“Look at you being the boss's favorite.” You teased, making Suzie roll her eyes. “It's obvious you’re the favorite employee.”

“Please, that’s not true.”

“Suit yourself,” you shrugged, “well I hope you can get out of here at your normal time.”

Suzie got up and made her way to the door, “Me too, I’ll see you at lunch (y/n).”

“Yeah.” You were about to log into your computer when your phone rang, picking it up immediately and you noticed it was Steve. “Hey babe, is everything okay?” You asked, holding the phone to your ear.

“Yes, we’ve got it under control. Sorry I had to leave so early today, I hate to do this (y/n).”

“You could always quit.” You implied, making Steve silent on the other line.

“I know, I will. Darling, I have to go, I love you, and tell the girls I love them.”

“I love you too, I’ll tell them.” You responded before the line clicked. You sat back sighing, you really meant it when you brought up quitting. You brought it up once you got married, then had Sarah, and then had Stephanie. He repeatedly told you he would quit, but every time, some threat would come and make him put the suit back on. But what you didn’t understand, was why was he doing all of this when he gave the shield to Sam. Why does he have a stronger commitment to the shield he gave up, then to the family we’ve created?

You do the work that’s been assigned to you for the day and the next thing you know Suzie is knocking on your door reminding you about lunch. “Are we still on for lunch?”

“Yeah, yeah, come in, I've just been working trying to drown out my thoughts.” Suzie walked in with her lunch and sat in the chair in front of your desk.

“What’s going on?” Suzie asked concern laced in her voice as she placed her lunch down on an empty part of your desk.

“Steve’s not coming home tonight.” You replied nonchalantly. “He always says ‘he hates to do this’ which means he’s not coming home again.”

“You don’t seem too upset about that.”

Practically everyone in the office knew you were married to Steve. It wasn’t something you could hide. Suzie didn’t treat you any differently when she found out you were married to him. She didn’t see a reason to, she could care less about your Avenger husband.

“Well, it’s nothing new, I just hate it. I wish he’d just quit already.” You confessed, grabbing your lunch from your fridge.

“Maybe he just wants to make sure the world is in safe hands.”

“That’s no excuse, he’s been saying he’ll retire for years and then something comes up every single time.” You say aggressively opening your food and stabbing it with a fork.

Suzie didn’t know what to say, she didn’t know how to give advice on the situation. She just knew she wanted to be there for you.

“I can’t keep living like this, I can’t keep letting the girls go through this, their dad saying he’ll do this and that. When he doesn’t show up for days.”

“I understand, you want stability for your kids and Steve isn’t giving you that.”

“He’s not, and I’ve been overlooking it for the past 12 years but I can’t keep doing this anymore.”

“So, (y/n), this begs the question. What are you gonna do?”

“The girls and I cannot continue to be treated as second,’ you pause, taking in what you have to do, ‘I’m gonna file for divorce.”

You and Suzie spent the rest of your lunch looking up divorce lawyers in the area, hoping one would take on your case. You sat with the idea for the rest of your day, then remembered you had to pick up the girls since Steve wasn’t coming home. You quickly gathered your things and left work to pick up the girls. Their faces dropped when they saw it was you and not Steve, you didn’t take it personally, you just saw two girls who missed their daddy.

They got in the car and you began to explain to them that Steve wasn’t coming home tonight and you aren’t sure when he'll be back.

“Have you talked to Daddy today?” Stephanie asked, putting on her seatbelt.

“I did, he said he loves you both,” you reply looking through the rearview mirror. “Do you still want to get ice cream?” Stephanie shook her head and Sarah said nothing.

You hated seeing your babies so disappointed, you were tired of it constantly happening. You felt you couldn’t rely on Steve like you would in a marriage. It was just you on your own.

(edit)

It's been a couple of days since Steve left for work. You talked to the girls about relationships and marriages and their ups and downs. Just so they didn’t seem in the blue. You decided to come home from work because you weren’t feeling the greatest and to your surprise, Steve was home.

“Steve?”

“Hey, Babe, what are you doing home?” he smiles and wraps his arms around you, you too drained to hug him back.

“I was wondering when I was going to see you again.” You reply, getting out of his grip and dropping your bag.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean? What do I mean? You were gone for days with minimal contact!” You yelled throwing your hands up exasperatedly.

“ You know I have to do it for work-.” He defends, but you don’t want to hear it.

“Yes I know, work work work, but what about your family? The vows you said to me when we were at the altar. What did you say to me when I had Sarah and when I had Stephanie? What about the family we made?” You exclaim, pointing your finger in Steve’s face. “You told me you weren’t going to be in this life forever, and Steve here I am 12 years later. We’re still here! I’m still playing the role of a happy wife and mother while you’re out not helping me raise these kids you helped create!”

Steve inches closer to you with his arms out, hoping to calm you down, you back away not letting him touch you.

By now, you were so upset, tears were running down your face, you wiped your tears and looked into Steve’s eyes, “I do not deserve this. The girls do not deserve this. I deserve a husband who is fully present and the girls deserve a father who is fully present.”

“I can be that man,” he says.

“No, you can’t. You’ve proven time and time again that you can’t.”

“(y/n)-.”

“I’m filing for divorce.”

His face dropped and he went pale after he heard those words. He scrambled to come up with sentences, with anything, just something to say so you wouldn’t leave him.

“(y/n), please. I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late for sorry. I gave you 12 years and you’ve constantly let me down. I won’t have it anymore. Get your things and find yourself somewhere to stay for the next few weeks.”

“But (y/n), we can work this out, I love you.”

“If you really loved me, you would’ve chosen me and our family over your job.”

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