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rogerswifesblog-updates · 1 year

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Chapter 4 - it’s all about the…

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A/N: yeah I know it’s late…I’m sorry! I’m just so so busy with uni and Easter (which reminds me; happy Easter!!). I’m tired af but I just couldn’t sleep another night without posting this! I feel awful for no reason, here some flowers as an apology😬💐 love ya, enjoy! And thank you @jamneuromain for some of the ideas, especially about Brock 👀❤️

Pairing: stripper!Steve Rogers x Sugar!Mommy reader

Chapter summary: You go out with steve to buy him some new clothes. The day is all about giving and receiving…

Warnings: hand job, semi public, oral f receiving, subby Steve, needy Steve, mommy kink, a hit of mommy issues,

18+

A few days later a chilly breeze reminded you of Steve’s thin jacket that he was probably still wearing, too thin, too cold. Not even close to what he was supposed to wear in such weather. You felt bad for not having bought him a jacket sooner, especially since you were cuddling in your own fuzzy coat, always warm and soft hugging your body.

Sitting in your office you couldn’t stop thinking about this issue.

Your Babyboy needed a high quality jacket. Something that would keep him warm and be comfortable, not just a thin worn out coat. You didn’t want him to freeze or get sick. It would probably break your heart to see him sick while you could’ve prevented it a bit.

Were you thinking ahead? Again? But it’s just the little voice in your head that told you to take care of him, make sure he’s fed, comfortable and appropriately dressed.

You were definitely caring a bit too much for just knowing him less than a week, but Steve was really a sweetheart. He had probably already stolen a part of your own heart.

But maybe you should just casually mention wanting to go shopping? Maybe asking if he wanted to accompany you?

You’ve already made up your mind. He’s coming with you. And he’s getting a damn warm jacket.

Taking out your phone you found Steves contact, typing a text. > Hello, Steve. Are you free today? We could go shopping, maybe grab some food on our way home and I’d drop you off later at your place. Tell me when I could pick you up. < Reading over the message one more time you added a little heart emoji, before sending. It was immediately delivered and seen only a few seconds after. You hadn’t had time to even put your phone away, before a reply came.

> hi CTN have classes. BRB < You squinted your eyes at the reply for a moment, not being sure if these weren’t some typos-but no, thinking it through you assumed it meant ‘can’t talk now’ and ‘be right back’. That’s the only thing that would make sense. Jesus, this kid.

You decided to reply anyway. >Just let me know. I can pick you up whenever you’re free.< With that you put your phone aside, rereading the documents you had filled out before texting Steve. Just when you sighed them and put them in a binder for later to go over during one of the upcoming business meetings, your screen lit up.

> iirc my classes end in 40 but iu2u when youd pick me up just lmk <

You stared at the message for a solid three minutes before huffing and throwing your phone in your purse. How could a person shorten a sentence so much that you couldn’t understand it? The only thing you assumed was his classes ended in 40 minutes. Hopefully.

After closing your office you walked to your assistants desk, telling her you wouldn’t be back today. For a moment you considered asking her about the text message, if she could translate it into your old school language.

God, you thought it would be easy to be with someone younger, but…whatever.

Sitting in your car you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the last message one more time.

IIRC... I really care? No, that can’t be right, there are two i’s

My classes end in 40…minutes, right?

but iu2u…I used to you? This also doesn’t make any sense. Why the hell is there a number in it?

When you'd pick me up just…lmk…Love me kiss me?? Huh. So should you kiss him? Or what does he mean?

Only when you look in your rearview mirror do you notice the grimace on your face, the squinted eyes and pouty lips. Jesus. All this over one text message. Now you feel even older than you actually are.

After putting your phone and purse away you started the car. Not needing your GPS since you knew where Steve’s university was, you turned on some music before finally leaving the parking lot, quietly humming to yourself.

Within twenty minutes you arrived at Steve’s university, to be exact in front of the art building. Opening your car door you turned down the volume of the music, but not fully down. It was quite chilly and windy so you threw your fur coat over your shoulders, leaning against your car.

Steve's class should end in ten minutes so you decided to let him know you were already waiting. > I parked at your art building.<

It didn’t surprise you when the replay came within seconds. > rnbbbb? <

“What the fuck does this mean”, you whispered to yourself having no idea what Steve meant. Not even a hint. Sighing, you shook your head. Not wanting to look like a total moron by asking him what he meant you took a picture of your view, to show him where you waited. > I’m here <

While waiting for Steve’s classes to come to an end the sun slowly started shining, the wind stopping. It started to get warmer immediately, making you feel too warm in your coat, so you quickly took it off, throwing it over your arm, leaving you in your black suit, the Gucci belt shimmering in the bright light.

Since it would take a few more minutes till Steve’s classes come to an end you grabbed yourself a cigarette, lightening it and bringing it to your lips. The red lipstick staining the stumble, while you breathe out the smoke.

Your phone vibrated again, four times. This many messages could mean business so you quickly took your phone out-only to see all four were from Steve. A small smile crept onto your lips while you opened his chat, surprisingly seeing a picture of yourself, leaning against the car and smoking.

> picture <

> I see you! HOT! <

> omw <

> bbbbb <

You pulled your eyebrows together, a quiet chuckle escaped your lips, still not understanding half of the things he meant-well, omw you knew was on my way. Wanda used it sometimes, too, being the youngest in your friend gr- “hello gorgeous”, interrupted you a voice. A voice you didn’t know.

With raised eyebrows you lifted your gaze, looking into the gray eyes of a stranger with a predatory grin. “Hello, and you are?” You smiled as friendly as possible at the man, who was in your opinion standing a bit too close to your personal space.

“I’m Brock and you seemed like you needed some company, so I’m here to help you out, gorgeous.” A scoff escaped your lips. “Please, leave me alone, I’m not interested in you nor your company.” You didn’t like men who behaved like they could have everyone. Especially you. His grin made you actually feel the opposite, making you slowly back a bit away from him. “Thanks, I’m just waiting for someone”, with that you looked to the doors-just then did Steve leave the art building. Finally

Your lips curved upwards. “There’s my boy. You can go now, Brock.” He wanted to say something more but you turned away from him, instead awaiting for Steve to come.

Behind you Brock snorted when Steve stopped in front of you, a bashful smile on his face. “Hi”, he mumbled leaning a bit down when he noticed you wanted to kiss his cheek-which you did, leaving a red lipstick stain behind. “Whops, sorry, Stevie, now everyone can see who you belong to”, you grinned; licking your thumb before trying to wipe away the red color from his skin. Of course this made him blush immediately.

There was another unfriendly reaction behind you, an unpleasant groan. “Really? Steve? That’s who you’re spending your time with? Come on, that doesn’t make sense. You can do better-or maybe he’s just some waiter boy huh? Earning a couple more bucks, because there’s no other reason such a gorgeous woman would be with a poor, sick nerd that-“ “oh for fucks sake aren’t you bored of standing here and watch us?” You hissed, throwing your fur in the back of your car while nodding for Steve to get in the car, before turning around to address Brock again.

“Maybe you are wondering how he lands with a rich af girlfriend, but I'm not putting up with your shit because he's the one having a relationship between the two of you. In fact, he's a million times better person than you are, you arrogant misogynist prick." With that you got in the car yourself, wanting to drive away. Your gaze once again falling to the young man that had bothered you-but then you looked back at Steve, who was visibly uncomfortable and upset.

Sighing you took his hand. “Don’t think about him. I only met him ten minutes ago and can tell he’s a total idiot. You’re not what he-“ “fucking Gold digger!” You heard Brock's voice, making your grip on the wheel tighten-thank god you weren’t driving or you’d have hit the brakes till they’d squeak.

“I won’t let him do that to you”, you hissed under your breath, leaving the car, loudly throwing the door shut. Brock was already standing with his friends, talking shit about Steve that you could hear from your car.

So you decided to teach him a lesson.

Nobody messed with your boy.

“Hey Brock!”, you called out, noticing how a grin spread onto his lips while he turned around, already saying something. “Gorgeous, I’m glad you changed y-“, before he could finish the sentence your fist met his jaw so hard he stumbled back into one of his friends. All of them left shocked and speechless, while you smiled at the group one last time before walking back to your car. Behind your back you could hear some mutters that made you grin even more.

When you finally sat back behind the wheel, Steve was also shocked. His beautiful blues wide, at the same time feeling how his heart was thudding wildly. “Now where were we? Oh right, don’t listen to Brock, he’s not worth it,” while you tried to cheer Steve up he seemed to get even more upset.

“He may be not worth it but…he’s not wrong. I’m poor and sick and a total nerd, while you’re this amazing woman that deserves to be with a real man,” he looked out of the window, ignoring your hand when you tried to take his. “Steve, why do you think that? Money is not important-that’s why we have our agreement and…you’re not sick, right? Do I need to know something? If you need medicine or anything, I’ll get it for you. You just need to tell me.”

There was a sigh next to you and Steve carefully took your hand. “Just look at me”, you did just that, your gaze falling over Steve for a second, but the only thing you noticed was his hurt puppy dog eyes. “What do you mean, Stevie?”, you chuckled, having a hard time understanding what he meant.

“Take a closer look-“ “Steve, if you want me to take a closer look we might end up in a tree, you have to tell me,” there was another loud sigh.

“Look at my ear,” his voice was quiet, even sounding a bit insecure. That’s when you had to stop at a red light, making it way easier for you to finally take a look at him. He wasn’t looking at you, completely avoiding your gaze.

Only after a few seconds did you notice what he was talking about, or, well, because he pointed it out. “Stevie…how have I not noticed it before?”

Steve had a hearing aid.

It wasn’t even much noticeable, just a bit of light blue around his ear.

“And Brock bullies you about that? What a dick. You shouldn’t feel self conscious about that. You’re still perfect-maybe even more than before”, you said softly, leaning over to him and kissing the shell of his ear, noticing how he blushed. His whole chest swelled up, his throat felt a bit tighter, while butterflies erupted in his stomach. His whole body.

Which he quickly tried to ignore.

Instead he cleared his throat. “So you don’t mind it? There’s more stuff. I also have asthma-and I-“ Softly chuckling you took Steve hand again, while pulling over. You hated how he was trying to talk himself down. Steve was an amazing person, with an incredible soul and heart.

His gaze was glued to your hand that was holding his, your thumb stroking the back of his hand, his skin tingling under your touch. “None of that, Stevie. I really like you the way you are-but I don’t like it when you talk yourself down, okay? You’re amazing-and so much better than this Bully Brock. I’d rather spend my whole life with you than a day with Brock.”

A that you both were shocked.

But the composed person you were, you tried to ignore the blush creeping up into your cheeks.

“Well, I-I wanted to ask you about something you texted me-or…a few things even”, you chuckled, probably making yourself even more nervous than before. Somehow you felt like you walked right in a dead end with all that, which Steve partly noticed too, so he grabbed your phone. “Could you enter the password so I-” “I don’t have one, don’t worry.”

You could feel the side eye Steve was giving you.

You could feel it burn a hole in your skull.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. I forget my passwords all the time.” Steve still wasn’t convinced with your explanation, but didn’t say anything. Instead he opened your chat watching over the messages he sent you. “So? What did you wanna know?”

Surprisingly you felt yourself blush again. Which hadn’t happened often…before meeting Steve.

“Could you…could you explain the abbreviations to me? I know a few-I think-but not all of them”, at this point you felt your whole head burning. The last time you were this nervous was…maybe in highschool. Which also was quite a while ago. You really didn’t want to get deeper into it.

Since you couldn’t remember the shortened messages Steve had sent you before you leaned a bit over to him. “Oh right, there were a few. iirc, iu2u, lmk…? Like…I really don’t know what this means. Lmk? Love me, kiss? If you want me to kiss you just-“ Steve’s laugh interrupted you, the blush on your face deepening immediately.

When he noticed you were serious he promptly shut his mouth. “I’m sorry-I didn’t mean to laugh, I’m sorry. I thought you were joking…”, he mumbled, averting his gaze. “Okay, so, iirc means ‘if I remember correctly”, there was a pause, so you looked up at him but he didn’t say more.

“So do you remember or not?”

And that’s when Steve realized it’d be a long, long time till he explains everything.

He was right.

It took him twenty minutes to finally explain everything and till you two finally stepped out of the car, your hand immediately wrapping around his bicep. “Just one more question, you didn’t explain what the whole ‘bbbb’s mean? That I Waldo couldn’t figure out” “oh, no, that’s nothing just typos, my screen broke and now it sometimes…does this”, Steve laughed quietly, the blush from before reappearing.

He definitely needed a new phone. You’ve seen his phone before, but you hadn’t expected it to be that bad.

“Would you mind?”, you smiled at him, giving him your purse that he took without hesitation. There was even a little happy smile on his lips, feeling helpful.

You walked into the shopping mall, your heels clicking coudly against the tiles. Many heads turn to watch you, eager to see the source of the clinking.

And Steve? Steve didn’t like all the attention.

The looks of other people’s faces first interested, then thoughtful and after a second judging. Him. They were all looking at him. They were all judging him. His simple collage hoodie, while you were wearing a whole elegant suit. The Louboutin heels loud and clear for everyone to hear, to see. To notice.

“Don’t do that”, Steve’s head turned so quickly you feared he might hurt himself. “What? I’m not doing anything?” Softly chuckling, you shook your head squeezing his biceps a big harder to comfort him. “I can feel you thinking. Ignore it. The thoughts, the people. They’ll always look. It’s what people do”, you tried to reassure him, succeeding only partly. He was still tense, but his lips twitched to a smile.

For a moment you watched as he watched his bottom lip, his cheeks covered by a soft pink blush. “Can we get some food first, tho? I haven’t eaten anything today and-“ “you what?? But it’s three pm?! You must be starving, baby. Let’s get you something to eat first”, with that you grabbed him a bit tighter, pulling him with you.

Half an hour later Steve was fed, happily still holding your purse while the two of you walked into a clothing shop. A very, very expensive shop. At least compared to the clothes he’d usually buy-mostly stuff on sale or second hand. And now he was in a shop surrounded by premium brands he didn’t even know how to pronounce.

You didn’t even look at the prices while showing him all the clothes he should try on. “I’ve noticed you like blue, right? Would you mind trying on some suits? I’d love to see your beautiful body in a real suit, maybe a blue one…or gray…or..well, we’d see which one would suit you best”, while talking you couldn’t stop yourself from brushing your hand along his muscular chest. To no one's surprise his face was covered by red spots, again.

“You’re so cute”, you whispered, pulling him a bit closer. His smile widening to a grin, his hands automatically falling into your waist.

He’d love to kiss you.

At the thought his chest tingled a bit. A bashful chuckle escaped his lips, while his grip on you tightened.

It’s weird how much happier he felt with you. How much more desirable he felt because of you. He didn’t even know you a lot, having only spent a bit time with you and yet he felt amazing with you. Like he mattered…like…you really liked him.

But maybe that’s how it's supposed to be. Nothing was real, it just was supposed to feel and look like it’s real. Or not? Was it real? Slowly he got confused, so he decided to push these thoughts away. It was all about money, he shouldn’t be seeing too much into it.

“Now go try these on…and whatever else you’d want to, there’s no price limit if you’re worried about that. It’s on me”, you gave him the clothes, continuing to look for something for yourself, maybe a new blouse or skirt.

Maybe some new heels…

Or a coat? Maybe- “could you please come with me? I…want you to help me…decide and just tell me what looks good”, Steve seemed nervous, maybe even a bit uncomfortable with the attention he was getting from some shop assistants that always checked if he needed any help-which he denied.

“Sure, sweetheart. Let me get something for myself then”, after finding a few pieces for yourself you followed Steve to the changing rooms-hust when he wanted to walk into one of them you grabbed his arm. “The last one is bigger.” Without further explanation you pulled him into the last one, immediately hanging your clothes up.

Steve looked a bit around, his gaze falling to your hands when you started taking off your suit jacket and slowly opening the button down. He didn’t even notice the smirk on your lips, while you casually let the blouse slide from your shoulders, his gaze still glued to your body, now to your bra covered breasts. A very pretty bra, if he had to be honest, black with lace, perfectly pushing your breasts up, making them look nicely. Very, very nicely…the image of your naked breasts popped up in his head, reminding him of the incident a few days ago.

Then your pants dropped to the floor and you stepped out of them, with this coming a step closer to him. The matching slip nicely hugging your hips, the hip dips making him wanna grasp your body even more. You were so beautiful. And so, so sexy.

Without saying a word you turned around and bent down to pick up your clothes, his breath stopping for a second. Your round ass on display. So close he could touch you if he’d reach out. Your legs look incredibly long, especially with the heels. The heels with the red bottoms.

Fuck.

Now he had a little problem.

Or a big one.

Whatever.

Definitely a visibile one.

And he knew you’d notice it, too, as soon as you’d look back at him.

What he didn’t know is, you did all of it on purpose, knowing exactly how your body, clad in only underwear, would affect him. You took a skirt, sliding it on then finally turning around to watch Steve’s reactions.

Just as expected his head was red, the blush creeping up his chest to the very tips of his ears. His hands folded before his crotch, making you raise your eyebrows. “You’re hiding something from me, Stevie?”, you whispered teasingly, slowly pushing his hands away, your palm pressing against his hard cock. A soft gasp escaped his lips.

“S-sorry I-“ “you got a bit excited, hm? Was it because of my breasts? Or my ass? Did you imagine how it’d be to grab my body? Pressed against you, while you’d fuck me?”, you whispered against his neck, leaving some kisses behind. His pants felt tight around his crotch, especially with you palming him with every word, “come on, baby, tell me what you’re thinking about.” A quiet whine escaped his lips while he buried his face against your neatly made hair.

“Thought about-about holding your hips-squeezing-feeling you close”, he mumbled, pushing into your palm, while you slowly opened his pants, your hand stroking over his boxershorts, grabbing his thick shaft tightly. “My naughty boy getting all worked up in a changing room. My filthy babyboy. Want me to make you cum? Are you this needy? Coming while being in public? In a changing room? Aren’t you scared of getting caught?”, you felt how his dick twitched at that, leaking more precum into his underwear, soft moans leaving his mouth.

You kissed underneath his ear, sucking gently at his skin, feeling Steve tense against you. His face pressed even harder into your neck, the moans turning to breathless gasps, while he slowly filled his boxershorts with cum.

A chuckle escaped you, while you slowly pulled out your hand from his pants. “Sweet”, you mumbled watching him cover his crotch, the redness in his face darkening. He looked down at his hands, before back at you. “I just came.” “I know.” The smirk on your lips reappeared and you quickly changed into the clothes you’d worn before, while Steve seemed frozen in place.

“Stevie, don’t worry. I’ll get you something to change into and it’ll be fine. Wait a minute, I’ll get you some underwear…just…wait for me. Don’t make a mess while I’m gone”, you added teasingly, watching as the man whined quietly, a bit embarrassed.

Or a lot.

Giving him a last kiss you left him to find some underwear, already paying for it and bringing it to him. After he changed and tried a few other things on, especially pants which he needed to wear now, because the other pants were…a mess.

After leaving the shop you looked once again back at Steve, who was carrying four to the brim filled clothing bags and your purse, a smile creeping on his lips when he noticed your gaze. “Need any help, baby?” “No, no I’m good”, he immediately refused to give you any bags, wanting to carry it all by himself. Laughing you shook your head at him, but finally let him have it his way.

“I need to do some errands, it’d take half an hour, max. In the meantime you could maybe…go order something? And we could go home then-unless you want me to drive you to your place?” He thought about it for a minute, before shaking his head. “I’d like to stay with you tonight.”

You shouldn’t feel as happy as you did.

After deciding where Steve could go order something to eat, you went back to the clothing store, finding a jacket Steve had not so subtly looked at, a very simple one but very thick, perfect for winter and cold evenings.

You bought something else, too, what you knew he’d be very happy about.

It wasn’t too hard to find Steve with all the bags hanging from his arms, looking a bit funny even. And probably a bit overwhelmed.

“Let me take the food, okay? I don’t want your arms to lose circulation from all the bags”, you grinned, taking the food from his hands, pecking his cheek. Leaving a soft red lipstick stain behind. You decided to leave it.

Your place wasn’t far away so it only took you twenty minutes to arrive. “Bring your stuff to your room and I’ll get the plates ready”, you said while taking out the food and bringing it to the couch so you could watch a movie together.

He turned around to look at you with all the bags in his hands. A grin on his lips while he came a bit closer to you, pecking your cheek. “Thanks, my sugar mommy. Can't imagine having a better mommy”, he definitely meant it kicking my, but seeing you blush and gasp softly made him pretty curious. But maybe he just imagined it.

You only smiled at him lightly, nodding before averting your gaze. Your smile turning goofy as soon as he walked out of the door.

While Steve was gone you took the jacket out and laid it out on the couch, already imagining how pretty Steve would look in the clothes you bought him.

His heavy steps echoed through the corridor and a few seconds later he was standing next to, looking at the jacket in surprise. “I-when did you get that?”, he asked quietly, lifting the jacket, a smile immediately appearing on his face.

“I may have lied about the few errands…just wanted to get you something nice-“ “but you bought all the clothes-” “but you chose it. I wanted to buy you something from me”, you smiled at the blond man pushing him down to sit on the couch. He dropped willingly, the jacket still clutched to his chest.

You took the jacket to put it aside. “I have one more thing”, you grinned, taking the bag again and pulling a little box out. Steve gasped loudly, his hand grabbing onto your thigh. When you looked back at him he seemed shocked, his mouth agape.

“You-you did not?”, he whispered letting you put the phone box into his palms. A soft laugh escaped your lips, while you leaned back, watching him fondly when he opened the box, slightly speechless. “I love having a sugar mommy”, his whisper made you laugh quietly but your chest immediately felt warmer, a bit tingling. You stayed quiet, not trusting your own voice.

His eyes had a little glimmer in them, a soft expression on his face while he slowly took the phone out, looking over the screen and back, before putting it once again away. “Thank you so much, I-…I really don’t know what to say…just…” “it’s why we’re having this, baby. Besides, I have a party coming up. Stark organizes a charity event so… let’s say…it’s a little gift for you joining me”, you smiled at him, winking.

Steve giggled quietly and shook his head lightly, leaving the box on the glass table. “I’d love to come with you. The phone is incredible-I’d never be able to afford it myself-but I’d have joined you anyway, you know? It’s actually not so bad…I thought it’d be weird but I really enjoy spending time with you”, Steve grinned, scooching a bit closer to you, his hand not leaving your thigh. Maybe sliding a bit higher.

“I want to thank you for this nice gift-“ “but I told you it’s for you joi-“ “I’ll probably need a suit anyway so…you’d need to buy it too…let me thank you properly, once in a while,” he whispered into your ear. You hadn’t even noticed how close he’d gotten until his lips trailed down your throat. That’s also when you noticed holding onto Steve’s blond hair. “But Stevie…the food…” “is it really that important? Do you really want me to stop? I want to thank my sugar mommy”, the last word made your grip in his hair tighten and he definitely noticed that.

Steve slowly kissed along your neck before uncrossing your legs and pushing them open, slowly dropping to his knees between. You couldn’t stop yourself from spreading them a bit further, your heart already thudding uncontrollably. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem to reheat it later…”

He helped you out of your pants as quickly as possible, admiring the pretty underwear he had seen before. You had no idea how many times Steve had seen women in underwear before but if he looked at all of them like that you definitely felt some kind of jealousy. No man had ever looked at you like that, his soft lips gently kissing your thighs, not really doing anything else.

Slowly kissing up to your core, Steve felt his own dick harden, but he decided to ignore it for now. All that mattered was to make you feel good-and he hoped he’d do it right.

His lips finally found your slip, slowly kissing your dressed pussy, his tongue licking over the material teasingly, curious. A quiet moan rumbled in your throat while you pulled his head a bit closer.

“Fuck Stevie-“, you moaned when he pushed the slip aside and licked over your slit, his nose nudging your clit unintentionally. You tried to push down your slip but before it could go any down Steve grabbed the material and yanked it from your body, ripping the material apart.

This made you gasp even louder, even a bit surprised. You had no time to say anything, Steve’s tongue immediately entering your hole licking up the wetness. His arms wrap around your thighs, holding you against his mouth as he moans against your core, his arms tightening.

You moved your hips against his lips, grinding against his face. He was all enthusiasm, lacking the finesse of an experienced man but his eagerness made up for it, especially when he started sucking on your clit. When you felt your high coming closer two of Steve’s fingers pushed in your hole, feeling how your walls throbbed around his digits. A quiet curse left his lips imagining how it’d feel to really fuck you. So warm and wet. How your pussy would tightly grip him.

“Curl your fingers upwards-and-and suck on my clit-I’m so fucking close babyboy.” Gasping louder when Steve did what you said you felt your peak approach. Steve felt how your muscles tightened around his fingers.

For not being experienced Steve sure did know how to use his mouth, having you moaning and shaking in no time. “I want to see you come-wanna make you come”, Steve moaned into your core, slurping and smacking loudly.

He looked up at you from under his eyelashes. His eyes being a bit glazed over, the blue being swallowed by his black pupils. A sudden urge overcoming him he definitely needed to try. “Mommy, please.”

And he was right.

Wetness gushed around his fingers, your walls sucking him in, your face scrunched up in pleasure. “Oh babyboy-you’re incredible”, after riding out your orgasm you slowly released the grip on his hair, moving your hand to lift his chin, running your thumb along his lips, the wetness glistening on his face.

A little smile widening over your lips. He was breathing hard and his eyes were all soft and needy. Your cum dripped from his chin onto his hoodie having left a wet spot behind.

Fuck.

“Sweetheart, you’re amazing.” , you mumbled, kissing his forehead before pulling him up and next to you onto the couch. “I’ll help you better with that…” Your hand trailed down his chest, but before you could grab his belt he stopped you. “It was about you, not me”, Steve kissed your knuckles. After taking off his hoodie he threw it over the back of the couch, an uneasy feeling erupting in your chest. Didn’t he even want a bit cuddling? You always enjoyed a hug after being intimate, but at the same time you knew you shouldn’t be thinking about it that way. It’s not like you were together. It was strictly business.

Steve kissed your forehead and took the food from the table. “I’ll warm the food up, you should wear something more comfortable than your work clothes-I thought we could watch a movie together”, he seemed sure about his words, but still seemed somehow nervous.

Which he was.

Because he now realized he had called you mommy.

And you seemed to enjoy it more than he’d imagine you’d do.

But the worst part of that?

He had definitely enjoyed it even more.

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❤️

#steve rogers #it’s all about the…#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #sugar mommy reader

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averywiseanimatedcat · 9 months

Text

I’m back with another ridiculous over analysis because I have issues.

I want to talk about the end credit elevator/Bentley scene.

Because there’s something BOTHERING me so much about it and other than coffee theory (which I don’t believe) I haven’t seen any explanation for it.

So to address Crowley first…his expression doesn’t really change he through the whole end credits. Which is on brand, he isn’t processing. You can see he’s on the edge of a breakdown but he won’t let it out. From the moment he gets in the car he is stonewalling. He hardly even reacts to A nightingale sang in Berkeley square playing, just calmly turns it off with a tiny lip twitch and drives away. He’s just staring blankly ahead while he drives and his face hardly even moves. All in character.

But Azirapahle…he is doing a whole lotta processing in that elevator. Sis is going through it.

At first he’s still recovering, looks like he’s about to have a breakdown to. He looks heartbroken. Devastated.

Once he gets past the initial heartbroken stage his expression is changing to a more determined look. He’s doing a Crowley shoving those feelings down. In my mind he’s planning a way to get Crowley back. Or he’s telling himself that Crowley will comeback on his own like he has before. He’s telling himself he is in the right and it will all be ok because he’s a bit delulu and he’s still in shock about what’s happened. Pretty normal and in character.

Then it gets WEIRD

These last few seconds are driving me insane.

This does not look like Aziraphale. At all. And this is the only reason I would consider coffee theory could be true BUT only if the brainwashing didn’t kick in until he was in the elevator. Because I cannot fathom what on earth would posses Aziraphale to smile like this.

This isn’t the smile that he does when he’s trying to be polite or pretend he’s ok. And he’s not smiling at the Metatron, he’s smiling at himself.

It’s not his determined ‘I’m going to fix everything’ smile.

It’s definitely not his normal genuine or excited smile.

Someone more insane than me might be able to correct me here but I don’t think we’ve ever seen Aziraphale smile like this before?

The smile isn’t IN his eyes (they’re dead asf) but it IS reaching them because it’s taking over his whole face. He looks like a serial killer and I cannot wrap my head around it. I cannot fathom that he would be smiling about the job at this point. That’s just weird and doesn’t make sense.

Either Micheal has made this acting choice or he was directed to do it for a very good reason. And it coming at the end feels like it was just dropped there as a hint. I’m not sure if the hint is plot related (like Coffee theory), or it’s just a hint as to what Aziraphales headspace will be like when we pick up in S3.

But can we all agree this face is CREEPY. It’s giving super villain vibes and I hate it. I feel like he’s going to appear in my sleep paralysis tonight and I’m scared.

Anyway.

The explanation options I have at this point are:

1. Something like coffee theory where some kind of outside influence is effecting him in the elevator (but not beforehand in the bookshop). This face does remind me of Gabriel’s weirdly overly happy expressions when he was Arc Angel

2. He’s in shock

3. He isn’t as good at hiding his feelings as Crowley is, so maybe he’s just over compensating to prevent a breakdown infront of the Metatron

4. He has convinced himself that Crowley will come back and is experiencing a weird mix of delusional excitement and pain

5. He’s having a complete mental breakdown (same)

#good omens #crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #crowly x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable divorce

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rekikiri · 2 months

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1. Rant to me about a book you absolutely hate!!!!!! (For the ask game)

ahhh I’m so glad you picked this one!! Thanks for the ask!

so I don’t have a lot of books I can think of that I hated but the first to come to mind that I hated (and finished) was She Drives Me Crazy by Kelly Quindlen (warning that this got super long so I’m doing a see more for it)

let me preface this that it is my opinion and if you like it that is totally fine!! also spoiler warning

okay for starters, fake dating is something I enjoy quite a bit! I really love fake dating, but I’m usually not a huge fan if it is to make someone else jealous tho which is a big part of Scottie’s motivation, so already off to a bad start.

Scottie is the main character here. Her and irene are supposedly enemies, but the events that make them hate each other are just not comparable to me. The reason Scottie hated Irene was LITERALLY A MISCOMMUNICATION. It would’ve been so quick and easy to clear it up but instead she hated Irene and was so mean to her (explained later)

There’s an incident at the start of the series where there’s a small car accident between the two and Irene needs her car repaired. Irene’s mom insisted that she had to pay for it, and to do so she would’ve likely need to quit cheer to get a job to cover it. So in the meantime, they’re carpooling. Scottie and her girlfriend had broken up not long before the book starts so Scottie offers to pay Irene $1000 to fake date her to make her ex jealous (which is just insane, you are 17 years old, a relationship is not worth it if you are needing to spend money to fake date a pretty girl to make her jealous). They only even broke up because her girlfriend was moved to another school haha not even out of STATE just a little bit away.

Scottie talks about Irene being mean but she really isn’t?? Like Scottie is so much meaner to Irene and is super judgmental.

Here are some examples of things scottie did to Irene (using a book review to confirm my info for this because I read this like 2+ years ago and it just has stuck with me so might be some slight inaccuracies)

1. Tells irene she is “too stupid” and that’s why she didn’t get into an AP class

2. Purposefully makes Irene spill her coffee on herself while driving her to school (then does the stupid ‘name three songs’ thing about the Green Day shirt Irene was wearing)

3. Said its misogynistic that cheerleaders always cheered for the boys sports and told Irene that cheer wasn’t a real sport anyways (multiple times) and insists that she didn’t deserve the student athlete of the year award even tho she worked her ass off to deserve it (and damn if that ain’t some misogynistic bullshit if you ask me)

Here’s a quote I found in the reviews that is a big reason why I fucking hate scottie

"It's not my fault you're so fucking insecure about being a cheerleader or that no one, including your own mother, takes you seriously about it."

That’s just so fucked up, I’m sorry. I would never fucking date her if she said that shit to me

NOT TO MENTION

Wanna know what Irene did that was supposedly so awful?

Had Scottie’s car towed. And it wasn’t even malicious! She accidentally had Scottie’s car towed when she was trying to have someone else’s towed to prevent them from driving drunk after a party they were at. Like if I were Scottie id be pretty pissed but like ? Just make her pay the fucking fee to get it back. Don’t need to be a huge bitch about it. She would’ve known it was an accident too if she just TALKED TO HER, but no, decided Irene was her worst enemy ever

And we find out about what happened after Scottie kissed her ex at a party after her and irene are sorta getting together for real, and brings the car issue up when irene is upset with her for it. Like I’m sorry you’re only going to bring up the awful “oh you towed my car” thing when you just kissed your ex when you’re with her??? Nope not comparable whatsoever I’m sorry

AND when she asked Irene to fake date her, Irene wasn’t out!! She was out to her family but Scottie really put her in a shitty situation with her offer. She either had to get a job and quit cheer (which if I remember correctly was how she planned to get a college scholarship!!!) OR she could fake date this mean girl for money and out herself in the process. I hated that and that’s only the smallest of things

Small thing too is that apparently the book was set where I live?? Funny that it even mentions where they are from because I have not a single memory of any specific thing that would make me think it is set here haha

Anyways yeah if you made it this far, thank you for hearing my bitchy book thoughts. I cannot think of a single other book that I’ve read start to finish that I dislike enough to say this much about it (I’m very good at knowing if ill hate a book before I start it and I’m very easy to please as is)

#ask game #yes-I-exist-shutup ask

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giraffeonstrike · 1 year

Text

In gearing up for a career change, I've been considering what my passions are and I've been a little stuck. It's an odd thing to go back and think about at my age...not that we don't change a ton between 20 and 43, we absolutely do and that's a good thing, but to really sit and take a good look at what moves you is typically a thing that younger people do before they start their careers and to a degree their minds and attitudes are better suited for self reflection and exploration.

When I was a teenager ten thousand years ago, my father decided we were going to build houses with Habitat for Humanity. He liked building stuff, I also liked it, people needed houses...simple. It was about a year into that when a guy we worked with asked me if I wanted to come work with him in his shop building cabinets and furniture. People were ordering things for Christmas, it was just him and one other guy, they needed help. So I went and worked with him, he taught me a lot, and it was hard but very fun so I'm 17 and have decided this is what I want to do.

I tell my father and he's confused. A carpenter? Really? No, no...you have to go to college. He didn't come all this way for his son to do manual labor.

I remember asking him "so it's good enough for Jesus but I can't do it?" which he was silent about for a while. No good reason, it's just not what he envisioned for me and eventually I gave up. Went to college, had a variety of jobs that were fine until I ended up here in the job I have now. I've sold cars, I put my own schooling on hold for some years to put my ex wife through school when her parents cut her off, doing the highest paying thing I could do with my skillset (talking) and an unfinished degree...being shipped around the country selling software. I can't even tell you what that was like, it was so mentally taxing and I was just always going.

But I did learn something incredibly valuable, which leads me to my really drawn out point. Frequently there were language and access barriers that prevented me from being able to close deals. You can't sell English language only software (of which there are almost none now but this was long time ago) to schools with strong ESL programs. They need a Spanish option...huge roadblock in southern California, the southwest, and south Texas. We had very little for special needs schools.

There were always handouts but frequently there were no actual people or departments that dealt with the care and management of special needs students. A secretary would hand me something and then disappear. I would never get a feel of what their needs were and if I ever asked they couldn't tell me.

When I came to work at my branch, that still bothered me. What bothered me even more is that I was coming up against the same problem. We had no audiobooks, no books in braille, no bilingual staff, only English language books, no one knew sign language but me. A library should be a place where anyone can go to get the information and enrichment that they need to learn and thrive. It's better now, but lack of funding has always been an issue and we never have been able to get to where I'd like us to be.

I'm 43 years old and realizing that my real passion is accessibility. Ease of use. Making what is difficult less so in whatever way possible. There are so many apps and programs now that hit that mark, but in talking to people who would know I've found out that the human element is lacking. For better or worse we are social creatures and sometimes you just want another person there to guide you.

I will formally resign my position soon, when I can set some things in motion to ensure that my assistant, Angela, will be asked to take over for me. I love my branch, I believe in it, and she's the only one I know who loves it like I do and will make it stronger. We're the only two who know, she's asked me if I'll still do storytime and I'm just delighted that she'd keep me for such an important job.

This is going to be a big year.

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rametarin · 2 years

Text

Financial abuse really sucks.

I have been financially abused my entire life, and every time there’s a crisis, it stings very badly knowing that I would’ve done everything right, but my life sucks because a tyrannical fucking cunt demands to co-opt and control my life.

And the only “cure” for it is to go live in a homeless shelter.

Not going to lie, it’s making me incredibly bitter and resentful. I will never trust a woman around my money again. After what my mother has done, cold blooded, to sabotage and control my financial life and prevent me from having one, “while I live under her roof,” just to have a place to live and somewhere to go, just to have access to transportation of any kind, knowing she gets away with this shit with benefit of the doubt because she’s a woman, I get absolutely fucking livid.

This fucking cunt forged my name and applied for disability for me last year and then when I said I didn’t want to speak to the phone lady when she informed me of the appointment, threw a tantrum and threatened me with homelessness if I didn’t. I don’t know if I was rejected (I hope) or if she’s been collecting disability from the government for a year+, but it’s something I will always remember from her.

She’s a cold blooded sociopath and has this obsessive game of trying to control everything in my life, right down to micromanaging how I do the fucking lawn. Any attempt to reach towards the world brings with it her trying to obligate me to turn over ultimate say or control of anything to her. And it’s not, “Aww! She’s just overbearing to keep you safe, sweaty! How precious! :^)” This is straight up psychotic need to control something.

Take, for example, the boyhood experience of getting old enough to drive as a teenager. Since children are second class citizens and not allowed to work or own their own bodies, she used that setup to demand I own a car before I was allowed to have a job. Why? “Because we’re not driving you back and forth to work every day.”

Well if you just fucking did that I could pay you for the gas and help out around the house.

“Car first.”

Okay fucking fine. So lets say you become a teenager. You now do not have any money for a car. Mom tries to cut you a “deal.” She’ll use her credit to get the car, but you’ll only be a joint owner, and you’ll be paying it off, and until you pay it off, she’ll legally own it and assert that dominance and control in the family home on whether you can use the car or not at all, whenever she pleases, for any reason.

So just to get a job you have to agree mom owns the car and can use whatever petty reason she wants to prevent you from using it, or you can go live in it. No future, no opportunity to save money, no security. Just homeless and living in a car.

Just to start working, you have to agree to a window of service that she will control every facet of, and you’re dependent on in order to make money. Just to even get a foot toward life, you have to stand on a carpet that gives her complete control over the future.

And my mother is the kind of woman that if she owns your computer desk chair, she’ll throw a performative tantrum to communicate she’s mad at someone else and “not in her best mind,” before getting heavy handed and demanding to take your chair from you for a while. Exactly how would that resolve the issue? “IT’S FUCKING MINE I DON’T NEED A REASON!” Only to mewl false apologies later. Which I knew even then were performative just so she could abuse and then claim inability to control herself later. These outbursts and taking her anger at other people out on me was premeditated.

You experience too much of that as a kid of a mother that does it, you realize it’s not about the chair, or even how she gets retarded when she’s allegedly angry. It’s about control. It is always about control. Control of your emotions, control of your reactions, control of the space you stand in/on, control of your time, control of your resources.

And when you are a minor, like I was in the 90s up to summer of 2002, you’re like a checker piece on a chess board. You have very limited mobility and no ability to really plan. A mother conspiring to behave this way can pretty much mandate whatever she wants, and your only options are to uproot everything voluntarily, emancipate yourself and subject yourself to homelessness and endless struggle from starting with nothing, or try and grin and bear it and hope her megalomania has a bottom.

I’m approaching 40, and I have not found the bottom of the well of her crazy. She never got better when her financial situation did; she got even more nakedly, brazenly controlling and exploitative.

I wish I had just emancipated myself at 16 and lived in the garbage. At least then I might’ve turned out different.

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fernweh-writes · 3 years

Note

How do you think the slashers would react to their s/o just crumbling to the floor because of a severe migraine

My chronic migraines give me plenty of experience with this one. Enjoy luv!

-Fern🌿

Slashers x S/O With Severe Migraines

Michael Myers

Michael would freak out, but of course you would never know that, he’s as expressionless as ever. But he’s worried about you, he’s never seen you in so much pain and he hates not knowing how to help. So when you crumble to the ground with your head in your hands his first instinct is to pick you up.

Does his best to do what you normally do whenever you have a migraine or bad headache. After getting you tucked into bed he closes the blinds remembering how you would throw an arm over your eyes to block out the light. Brings you a glass of water and some pain killers to try and help with the persistent pain.

You won’t have to worry about loud noises being an issue either considering Michael always moves around quietly. It’s a quality of his that normally annoys you since he scares the crap out of you so often but in the moment you’ve never been more grateful that your giant of a boyfriend is so quite.

If the nausea gets to you and you make a run for the bathroom, Michael will disappear. He may care about you but he’s not going to hold your hair back for you or anything. Will show up to carry you back to the bed once more though. Even he won’t leave you lying on the cold floor.

Bo Sinclair

Bo may have experience with extreme hangovers but he doesn’t have any experience with severe migraines. At first, when you begin to complain about the pain he teases you about it. “It can’t be that bad, darlin’, you’re just bein’ dramatic.” He simply doesn’t understand the severity of your migraines, so you can imagine his surprise when you fall to the ground grimacing and taking deep breaths.

He does his best to appear nonchalant but you can still tell he’s panicking. Bo’s not stupid, he knows you have a pretty good pain tolerance and has witnessed it first hand. So he understands that you have to be in some serious pain to just crumble to the ground like that.

Carries you up the stairs to the bedroom and just awkwardly hovers. Eventually he decides to ask Vincent for his help. Bo knows everything there is to know about cars but he’s helpless when it comes to fixing up people.

His best idea is to just lay with you and rub circles onto your skin in a poor attempt to distract you from the pain and discomfort. Keeps asking what he can do to help when really the best thing he could do is stop asking questions and learn to shut up for once in his life. If you snap at him he decides that he can allow it use this once but don’t ever try to again.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent spend most of his time underneath Ambrose in his workshop. So when he finally reappears on the surface only to find you sitting on the kitchen floor with your head in your hands he’s immediately worried and begins to fret over you.

I’m convinced that Vincent actually knows a lot about medicine. His messed up father most definitely left behind a bunch of medical textbooks in his office as well as a few medical journals as well. Reading all of them in his free time has given him a great understanding of anatomy and the human body. How else would he be so good with handling the bodies. He can properly administer a sedative, stitch people up, and accurately slice the Achilles’ tendon, those things aren’t just common knowledge.

This makes Vincent the best equipped slasher to help you through any migraine. He’ll scoop you up and carry you to bed making sure the room stays dark and quite. If you want him to stay with you he will, otherwise he will leave you be and just occasionally pop in to check on you. If Bo comes home shouting Vincent will deal with him immediately.

Memorizes all of your migraine triggers and does his best to help you avoid them. While Vincent has sadistic tendencies he never wants to see you in pain. Especially not in so much pain that you fall to the floor and curl up on yourself like that.

Thomas Hewitt

The Hewitt household is always filled with loud noises and commotion. Whether it be screams, yelling, slamming doors, or the sound of a chainsaw there’s always some type of loud noise. But with so much to be done around the house and your need to carry your own weight, you do your best to push through the pain that begins in your head. But as the pain intensifies and the noises around you just continue to grow louder, you fall to the ground.

When Thomas finds you curled in on yourself he panics. Doing his best to be gentle, he picks you up and does the only thing he knows to do. Setting you down on the kitchen table he pulls Luda Mae over to you. His momma is the only person he can think of to help you out. Sure enough, she’s able to assess your migraine quickly and gets Thomas to carry you up to bed and close the curtains to try and block out the sun.

For once in a long time, the house is quite. There is no yelling, no screaming, and definitely no chainsaw. Luda Mae makes sure to keep Hoyt and Monty quiet while Thomas makes sure to not leave your side. The bodies can be dealt with tomorrow no matter how much crap he gets from Hoyt. Right now, Thomas is focused on making sure that you’re okay and fetches you anything that you need.

Brahms Heelshire

It’s no secret that Brahms watches you all day long. Whether he’s glued to your hip or within the walls, you can always feel his eyes on you and Brahms always finds a way to make his presence known. So when your migraine hits an unbearable point and the world begins to sway, you decide to sit on the middle of the floor.

Seeing you suddenly drop to the ground has Brahms panicking from his spot within the walls. You can hear him move around with loud thunks which only causes you to wince and press your hands to your head in an attempt to block out the noise. His whines of concern when he reach you don’t help either and you snap.

Brahms has never seen you snap at him like that but he’s also never seen you hurt like this so he feels very conflicted. Eventually he reasons that for now he can help you so that you’re no longer in pain. But lashing out at him like that is behavior that can’t go unpunished. So all the while he’s helping you and being on his best behavior he’s thinking of all the ways he can punish you when you feel better.

Billy Loomis

Billy isn’t good at taking care of people, half the time he can’t even do a good job of showing he cares. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s still very protective over you though. So when you crumble to the ground at one of Stu’s parties with tears beginning to form in your eyes he immediately grabs you and carries you to an empty room away fro any people.

When you explain to him that it’s a migraine and all the noise and flashing lights are only making it worse he’s immediately getting you in the car and carrying you home, no complaints. Billy refuses to keep you in a place that’s only going to make you feel worse even if he doesn’t know how to help you get rid of your migraine.

Once you make it home he carries you to bed and hands you water and pain killers. After listening to your instructions to hit the lights he crawls into bed beside you. Even after you manage to fall asleep he’s staying up worrying over you. Billy enjoys seeing people hurt, he’s crazy enough to stab his own best friend with no remorse. Even then, he quickly decides that he never wants to see you hurt and does everything he can to prevent that.

Stu Macher

Stu’s not great with empathy, he does a terrible job of reading the room, and he does a bad job of helping other people most of the time. So seeing you curl up on the ground makes him nervous. He knows you have migraines from time to time but usually you’re able to handle them on you’re own. The most you ever get him to do is fetch you water or Tylenol.

He panics as he helps you up off the ground, not knowing what to do with you. He considers carrying you to bed but decides that the couch is much closer. Pulling a blanket off of the back he drapes it over you, making sure to turn off the TV so it doesn’t bother you.

For the first time in his life Stu manages to be quite. Since he can’t ramble though he finds himself fidgeting around, biting at the skin around his nails. Listening to your small groans and whines of pain make him want to do something, anything. Knowing that all he can do is wait makes him feel helpless and useless.

Stu goes out of his way to help you avoid anything that might trigger your migraines. If you get a sever migraine while out in public he will come pick you up so that you dont’ have to drive yourself home. The two of you can worry about your car later, he’s just worried about making you feel better.

Jesse Cromeans

This man has his own medical staff just on standby at all times. Having any sort of severe or chronic migraines is no problem when you’re with Jesse. One phone call and he can find you the best doctor in the whole country.

Seeing you curl into a ball as you sit on the ground has him calling Spann and telling her to clear his schedule for the rest of the day. You are his top priority, he can handle business another day. Even if it was something important he has a whole team of people that are more than capable of handling the situation for the time being. He’ll make sure that you get some rest knowing that a nap usually helps to eradicate your pain.

If he happens to bring you along to one of his warehouses and end up with a migraine though then he begins to get nervous. You’re more likely to be put in danger there, so he’ll be reluctant to bring you along again. Jesse will have you sit in his lap and anyone that barges in yelling about “business affairs” then he’ll quickly get rid of them.

Black out curtains. He knows that the light streaming through the windows can make your migraines so much worse. So he would make sure to have blackout curtains in your bedroom so that no light can get through and you can rest peacefully. Nothing like a dark and quiet room when your head feels like it’s about to explode.

Asa Emory

If this happens while you’re still trapped in his hotel of horror, then you’re just kind of SOL. Asa has cameras in every room so he most definitely knows that you’re in pain. On the bright side the hotel is pretty dark and quiet so there’s not much that will make your migraine worse. Unless Asa decides to torture you by turning on extra bright lights or causing a scene just for some noise to irritate you.

If you’re still in the hotel, but Asa has grown fond of you then he may show some mercy. Sadly that mercy comes in the form simply knocking you out with any method he deems convenient. Lucky you, you wont be hit upside the head because he knows that would just make things worse.

However, if he’s decided to make you his a little house spouse, then he tends to be more gentle. His house is quiet and the dimly lit bedroom is your safe haven whenever your head starts to hurt. If you fall to the ground he’ll carry you to bed. Making sure to remind you how weak and pathetic you are, you wouldn’t be able to do anything without him to take care of you.

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vannybarber · 3 years

Text

The Prenup

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part Two Part Three Part Four Final Chapter

Scrounging through the little desk in the corner of Chris and you's bedroom, you hear him let out a boisterous laugh.

He was watching some movie and there was a certain part that he found so hilarious. After 4 years of watching it with him constantly, you still don't get what's so funny. But it makes him happy so that's what matters.

You were searching for the wine opener so Scott could get his middle-aged-4-kids-divorcee vibe on. You cleaned the other day and stuck it in there after a nightly dose of freakydeaky from Chris, which consisted of wine, whipped cream, and a many different forms of chocolate.

After what seemed like forever, you find the corkscrew and grin at your accomplishment. You take one more look in the drawer out of habit and you spot a big orange envelope with Chris' name on it. Being the nosy curious person you are, you take the envelope out and get a good look at it. You see the words Prenuptial Agreement in bold and your heart drops.

Chris had proposed to you 9 months ago and you were happy beyond words. After being together for 4 years, he finally put away his commitment troubles and made you his fianceé. And now you find out he's going to get you to sign a prenup. A fucking prenup.

You look around the room at loss for words. You were angry, hurt and confused. After 4 years of being together, he doesn't have faith in his own judgment that you guys would be together forever? You both have been through literally everything. There isn't one thing you don't know about each other. Your relationship was rare and it was special.

After moments of contemplation, you decide you would confront him on it. There's no way you could carry on the night and sleep after this. Not until you get your answers. Closing the drawer, you take a sharp breath and exhale before walking out the room. You get back to the dining table where Lisa and his siblings surrounded.

"Here you go Scott" you say slamming the corkscrew on the table in front of him. He looks up at you, puzzled. You glance at him then at Chris and he's looking at you just the same. Evidently your tone matched your movements because everyone went silent. You draw back and put both hands behind your back and huff.

"Babe, are you alright?" It was Christopher talking to you now. Your attention goes to him and your lips are in a thin line. Refraining from blowing up at him, you force smile on your face and change your tone of voice.

"What do you mean, honey? I'm fine." You should leave the acting to Chris honestly. That's definitely not your field of expertise. Shifting on your right foot, you stare at him. He shuffles and tilts his head with a knowing look.

"Spill it Y/N. What's up?"

"The flames when I burn this damn house down." So much for not blowing up. You snatch the envelope in front of you and chuck it on the table. Everyone watches the exchange and the envelope fly to the table. All their faces change from confusion to shock and even more confusion.

Chris didn't even need to look down to know it was the prenup. His eyes went from you to the wall. Guilt written all over it, you almost wish you gave a shit. You wonder how long he was going to keep this hidden from you. No need to wonder now.

"You want to explain to me why you have a prenup?" You place your hand on your hip and roll your neck at him.

"I got that for us."

You swear to everything you wanted to lunge at him right then and there. 'I got that for us'. Why do people always use that excuse for everything? They weren't thinking about you, just themselves and expected you to go along with it.

"You got it for us? I know you didn't do this on your own. Who put you up to it?" You look around the room. Scott has his hands up shaking his head. Carly and Shanna both let out a quiet "not me". You look at Lisa who had this look of hurt.

"Chris, you tell me everything. How did I not know about this? Why didn't you tell me?" Well now you know she didn't suggest it. You feel slightly guilty for letting it cross your mind, but you had your reasons.

"Ma, I had my reasons. I kept it hidden because I didn't know how I felt about it myself" he says rubbing his face and fixing his hair under his cap. Still didn't answer your question.

"Christopher, who put you up to this? Tell me now!" You're getting fired up by the minute. You have an idea who it could be too.

"Megan. She thought that it would be smart to consider. Just to protect me."

"Megan." Your voice is laced with absolute venom. "You know Chris, she does a good job keeping you out of trouble and bullshit so you're not all over the tabloids, but sometimes, her ass is too much!"

Chris is never in the news for anything negative. He's always minding his business and moving quietly. Megan is a great publicist, but she can be pretty overbearing about his personal life. She gave you side eye for like the entire first year of you guys' relationship.

"Baby, she was just looking out for me. You know how it is, women getting with you for your money. Guys loose half of everything they have when getting divorces."

You can't even believe it.

"I am not 'women'. I'm your fianceé. We've been together 4 years, Chris! After all this time your material things come before me?" Tears are puddled at your eyes now and your voice is cracking. This catches his attention.

"I told you from the start Chris, that I never cared about your money! Never have and never will. I am used to not having much. I'm not money hungry or concerned for having top tier everything. I've learned to settle."

"Y/N, I didn't mea-" you slam your hand on the table, making everyone jump. Chris shuts his mouth.

"I'm. Not. Finished. I am not marrying your bank account. I'm not marrying your cars. I'm not marrying your house. I don't give a damn about any of that shit. And you literally are still concerned about all of that?" Your face is wet and your nose is runny. You wipe your nose and cross your arms.

"It's not even like that!" Now he's getting upset. For literally nothing. This is his fault. "It's just in case it doesn't work out, we don't need to deal with all the extra mess."

That completely shattered you. In case it doesn't work out. He actually has thoughts that your marriage couldn't work. What would even cause that? You guys don't even argue. You don't even remember the last time you did. You've learned to understand what each other needs and mastered that. What is he on about?

"You know what the sad part is? Us not working out crossed my mind in, like, the first year of our relationship. And I decided that if we did get married, and God forbid we divorced, I wouldn't take anything from you."

He looked at you like he just found out he wasn't the father of your baby.

"Yeah, Chris. That's your money. You made it, not me, so why would I ask for any of it from you? You gave me an amazing relationship and thats enough for me."

"Oh my goodness." Everyone directs their attention to Scott. "So you wouldn't want anything from the divorce?"

"Of course not! I came in this relationship for him. Plus a make my own money. I don't need anyone else's."

You had your own business. Many employees at different buildings in Boston. You didn't have much growing up and you were proud of yourself for not having to worry about financial issues. Chris liked that you had your own thing going and didn't have to adapt to his life and depend on him financially. And he still got a prenup.

Feeling like you were gonna cry again, you rub your temples and take deep breaths to prevent it. But you failed and started crying more. Chris got up and moved to stand in front of you.

"Baby, I'm sorry I upset you. I thought you would be okay with this. Like you said, you don't care about my money so what's wrong with the prenup?" His hands were on your sides, but not for long as you shook them off of you.

"What's wrong with it? What this is telling me is three things. You have doubt that our marriage won't work out, you think I might change my mind and ask for alimony, and that your money comes before me."

"I..." he struggles to form words. You take this chance to get out of there.

"I really don't want to be here right now." Chris looks up and grabs your arm.

"Babe, you don't need to go. Where the hell are you gonna go?" You turn and grab the envelope from the table. You open it and pull the papers out, shoving it in his face.

"I'll go to a hotel or something, but I'm not staying here if this is the shit you're trying to pull with me." You turn the paper to you and look in disgust. You scan over it and your eyes fall on the dotted line where you need to sign. Beside it is where he needed to sign his.

Well not anymore.

You read over his signature on the line. Chris Evans.

He signed the prenup already. Now he was just waiting for your signature. He really was leaving you zero choice.

"You signed it already??" Everyone at the table head snapped up. Shanna gasped and covered her mouth. Lisa mumbles an "oh no" under her breath.

"So you were just going to bring it to me and expect me to sign it with no fight, huh?"

Chris says nothing, but his face is red. You don't wait for a response and walk to your shoes and your bag. Already having everything in there, you slip your shoes on and walk back to Chris.

"Just a heads up, you brought this on yourself."

You whip around and walk to the fireplace. You chuck the papers and envelope in the blaze and turn back to him.

"You can forget about that damn prenup, cause I'm not signing it. As a matter a fact, you don't even have to worry about that because there won't be a chance of us divorcing." You force a smile and clasp your hands together. Lisa and Scott rise from the table panicking.

"Babe, no-"

"Forget the wedding, this engagement and all of it. You can take this fucking ring too." You pry the ring off your fingers and throw it at him. It hits his chest and falls at his feet.

"I'm not marrying you."

You turn on your heel, grab your purse and jacket, walking out the door, leaving the Evans' speechless.

Was this too dramatic? I have my own opinions on a prenup, but maybe it's not as big as it seems? Idk🥴.

masterlist

#cevans #chris evans #avengers #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #andy barber smut #steve rogers smut #captain america #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut

2K notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 9 - FINALE)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: smut (oral f receiving), semi-public sex (in a parked car) angst, arguments, implied smut, sappiness, time skips, some alcohol consumption here and there, lots of talking about issues including bucky's ptsd, I really have no idea how to warn for this but IT’S THE END SO STRAP IN FOLKS

Since that night, it had been like a stand-off in a Western movie, none of you saying anything because you had no idea what to say. Whenever he tried to start the conversation, you brushed him off.

You took a cab home from the event. He slept in his own room for the first time in months.

Finally, suddenly, you were ready to talk about it nearly 30 hours later, knocking on the guest room door and entering to find Bucky on his bed, re-reading Flowers for Algernon. He sat up quickly and shut it, setting it aside. “Hey,” he greeted softly, hesitant like you were a deer in a clearing and he was extending a handful of grain in his palm.

“Hey,” you returned, already fighting back your emotions. “I think I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready to listen.”

“I just… I want to make sure that you understand this is a really big deal.”

He nodded again.

“I had to do a lot of damage control to prevent being banned from all HFPA events— that includes the Golden Globes, you know, I can’t exactly skip those just because my boyfriend went fucking nuts at a party.” And there was the anger again— you had tried to wait until you could be neutral about this but it barely lasted, mainly because you were still embarrassed about the way you’d handled yourself that night. “You’re lucky not many people saw; you’re lucky no reporters were there! Can you imagine if someone had a fucking picture of this? There were cameras everywhere, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” he defended. “I saw you with him and he was touching you and I just… I saw red.”

You sighed slowly. “That’s not a good thing. That’s really, really concerning.”

“I know, I agree— you’re right. I need…” he trailed off, taking a breath before starting over. “I need to work on that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I just… I can’t really be a part of that. You need to work on that on your own.”

He stood up instantly, almost looking… afraid? Terrified, really, and heartbroken. “On my own, like what? What does that mean?”

“It means that I think maybe you should go back to your own apartment for a while. I just… need to be alone for a bit.”

“You need to be alone?” he repeated. “Or you need to be away from me?’

“Both.”

His head fell into his hands instantly. "Please don't tell me I fucked this up," he whimpered. "Please don't tell me I ruined this."

"I— I don't know."

"Please, please, please," he sighed, just louder than a whisper, suddenly stepping forward, grabbing your hand and clutching it to his chest. "Look at me," he begged.

You did, hesitantly, fighting everything in you that wanted to cry (and not doing so good of a job at it).

"Please, I lo—"

"Don't," you grimaced. "Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"It doesn't matter!" you yelped, surprising both of you with your volume.

“Are we going to have a chance to talk about this again? Am I going to get a chance to make it up to you?”

“You don’t make it up to me, you fix it. And that takes time.”

He shook his head, looking shocked and confused and completely blindsided which made you feel sick to your stomach. “How long?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Am I not going to see you at all, for however long it takes?” he pressed.

“I… that’s sort of the idea.”

He shivered and pulled you into a hug. “Please don’t hate me forever,” he whispered against the top of your head.

“I don’t hate you,” you promised, doing your best not to hug him back even though all you wanted was to wrap yourself around him and feel safe in his arms again.

“Then don’t make me go,” he pleaded as he pulled back, clutching your face. “Let me stay and we can work through this together.”

“That’s not how this works,” you reminded him

“But I don’t know how to be without you,” he explained shakily.

“That’s not really my problem!” you yelped, and he turned away like he’d been slapped, dropping his hands from your face. A long, heavy silence fell between you as you watched him stand there, contemplating.

“If this is my last chance,” he finally spoke softly, barely breaking the silence, “to say everything I want to say…”

“It’s not,” you assured. “We’re going to talk about this again, but you need to go now.”

He nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow of nothing. When he looked at you again, you hated how much bluer his eyes looked when they were bloodshot and filled with tears. “Can I kiss you?”

You shook your head. He bit his lip and turned to walk away; you stared at your feet because you couldn’t watch him go.

You heard him grab his backpack, shoving a few things from the drawers into it; he set his key on the table, walked into the open hall, and as soon as you heard the front door open and shut you were plunged into solitude and silence. With a whimper, you crumpled to the floor and cried, the look of betrayal on his face burned into your mind.

It was obvious, to your horror, that he really hadn’t seen it coming; he hadn’t packed his things, or prepared in any way for the conversation going like that. He had been waiting for an olive branch and got a switch to the face instead. You didn’t know anything about working on relationships, repairing broken things… when something went wrong, all you knew how to do was bail.

You knew how to do a new take and say the line right this time. You knew how to take off your eyeliner and start over. You knew how to kick unsuspecting C-listers out of cars because you already got yours. But you didn’t know how to stay, and work, and frankly you were just too scared to try. Last time you tried to make it work, you got burned. And as much as a logical part of you knew that wasn’t Bucky’s fault or responsibility, your heart just couldn’t survive another relationship where you put everything into putting the pieces back together while the other person stood there and watched you just to pull them apart again.

It had to end at some point, right? It was you, it was him… and that’s just how these things go.

He knew it was too good to be true. He knew you were too good for him. Anybody with at least one eyeball and half a brain could see that. But still, he hadn’t been ready to let you go.

Being in his apartment felt like stopping in a ghost town; there might as well have been a tumbleweed rolling through the living room. It was beyond a bachelor pad: it was more like an unfinished work site, considering his ‘couch’ was cinderblocks and a few two-by-fours, and his bed was a mattress on the floor.

One toothbrush. No books. A half-empty shampoo bottle in the shower and some hard water stains he needed to scrub away at some point.

This place didn’t feel like a home, it barely felt like a livable space. It was a three-dimensional homage to how empty his life had been before you, and he realized that was only his own fault.

Then again, this was all his fault.

But still, he had let himself obsess over you, turn you into his whole world and it made him into somebody he didn’t want to be. He had been working so hard to keep you happy, inspired more than anything by his fear to lose you, that he’d forgotten to give you space and now here he was… giving you so much more space than he ever wanted to, or knew how to deal with.

But he wanted to use this, if he could. As much as it was tempting to binge on junk food, drink too much and watch porn for an hour, as much as he wanted to run away from everything he was feeling, he owed it to you and to himself to face it all and learn from it. He wanted to be the man you deserved, if that was even humanly possible; he wanted to be who you used to think he was.

The next week went by in a blur: a blur filled with shitty romcoms, Ben & Jerry’s straight from the carton, and phone calls ignored.

It would all be fine with time, you knew that, but god, it fucking hurt now. It made you want to call him and at least apologize for having sex with him when you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to if he knew you were upset. More time and distance from the situation made you appreciate that it was manipulative, even if it by no means justified the way he grabbed you, or shoving anybody in the first place.

Truth was, you were scared of Bucky long before that happened. You were scared of how strong your feelings were for him; and, in turn, you were scared of how strong his feelings were for you. You felt loved by him, and you didn’t know what to do with that. So you self-destructed.

Just in time to tear you out of your spiralling thoughts, the intercom buzzed from the front gate. You furrowed your brow, wondering who it could be, and got up to check the camera feed.

You couldn’t see the face of the driver, just his arm, but you’d recognize that Rolex on his wrist anywhere.

“What do you want?” you asked coldly, holding down the intercom talk button.

"Let me in," Sam instructed.

"And why should I?"

"Cause if you don't, I'll press charges against your boyfriend."

BEEP BEEP BEEP! the gate announced its opening.

You took the time while he parked his car and walked to the door to throw out the wrappers from all your questionable “meals” (i.e., candy and ramen), change into slightly nicer sweats and splash your face so you looked slightly less dead. Just as you came downstairs from your rushed primping, Sam knocked on the door and you turned off the TV, tossing the remote aside. “It’s open!” you called out.

He turned the knob and stepped in with just one foot, peering around.

“Is the Terminator home?” he asked coyly. “Cause I actually think I’ve been assaulted enough for one week.”

“No, he’s gone. And don’t call him that.”

“What?” he shrugged, finally coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut on its own, taking his shades off and sliding them into the collar of his v-neck shirt. “It’s a compliment, and you really invite the killer robot comparisons when you’re part robot, look like a killer, and act like a thug.”

“He’s sensitive about the arm, okay? It’s one of the reasons he… it’s part of why we waited so long to go public.”

Sam glanced down to beside the door, where three pairs of your shoes were haphazardly lined up while his boots were noticeably absent. “And the fact that he’s moved out? When’s that gonna go public?” He always had an eye for these things, the bastard.

“I… I don’t know,” you sighed. “What do you want, exactly? Because honestly, I really can’t handle you right now.”

“I’m just trying to be a friend,” he explained, stepping closer again as you leaned against the breakfast bar.

“You seemed a lot more than friendly on Saturday,” you reminded him. “God, Sam, why did you have to do that?”

“So it’s my fault, then?” he rolled his eyes.

“No, of course not,” you assured, “but you knew I wasn’t single. I was actually happy… did you even want me back? Or did you just want to fuck with my life?”

“I did want you back, really.” He paused for a moment, more serious than he almost ever got. “I still do.”

You scoffed, looking away. “What happened to just being a friend?”

“That’s not why I’m here, this time. I’m just here to tell you that I’m worried about you.”

You took your weight off the bar and circled it into the kitchen, Sam mirroring you by following around the other side. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge. He opened his mouth to answer but then leaned in as he stared at your hand where it was right in front of his face gripping the refrigerator’s door handle.

"He did that to you?" Sam pointed to the bruise on your wrist. You let go of the fridge and pulled your sleeve down to cover it again but that was answer enough. "Jesus, babe, this guy's fucking crazy."

"He's not crazy, and don't call me that," you frowned. "I don't think he meant to, really— his prosthetic is powerful and it was in need of a recalibration. He shouldn’t have grabbed me, but, he probably didn’t mean to do it so hard.”

Sam didn’t seem too convinced by that explanation, but didn’t say anything.

“Believe it or don’t, Sam, but either way it’s none of your business,” you frowned.

“Right, I know,” he nodded. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s you?” you pressed with an incredulous raised brow, opening the fridge again to grab yourself a green juice (because you were, again, trying to look like you had your shit together) and starting to walk away.

“I’ve changed, believe it or not,” he explained as he followed you out of the kitchen again. “Occasionally, people are capable of that.”

“If that’s true, then I owe it to Bucky to wait for him like I said I would,” you shot back. “I told him to leave so we could work on things separately. Not so I could entertain your come-to-Jesus moment.”

“It’s not a ‘come-to-Jesus’ moment, it’s just a ‘give me another chance’ moment,” he corrected as you took a long sip of the juice, “it’s a ‘maybe we ended things too soon’ moment.”

You looked at him in silent judgment as you kept drinking, and the way he was looking at you made you glad the glass bottle was keeping your lips occupied.

“It’s an ‘I’m still in love with you’ moment.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spit the juice right onto him, covering your mouth in shock just a moment too late.

For one of those indefinite moments, you were just staring at each other while you both contemplated that you had said he loved you and you had spat juice onto him.

“Okay, I was prepared to get shot down,” he admitted. “This is… worse.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, trying not to laugh, “I… I’ll get some paper towels, I can get you a new shirt, but it’ll have to be one of the ones Bucky left behind…”

“Oh god, it’s sticky,” he grimaced, as he tried to peel his shirt from his skin, “can I just use your shower maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded, “upstairs and down—”

“I remember where it is,” he reminded you as he stepped past you to make his way to the bathroom. “I knew I should’ve waited to say it until she was done drinking…” you heard him mumble to himself before he disappeared and you heard the bathroom door shut.

But truthfully, it wasn’t really the fact that he said it, or the concept of Sam loving you at all that made you spit out your drink. It was that when he said it, you realized you were in love with Bucky. Which, yes, would’ve been obvious to anyone else but it came as quite a shock to you.

It made you realize that you wanted to make this work. You wanted to be vulnerable, you wanted to try, even if it ended just as badly as it nearly had last week; even if it meant dealing with all the shit that you’d pushed down for so long.

You wanted to have another chance, this time knowing how hard it would be to be without him.

Just as you pondered what to do with that realization, a knock at the door startled you. Who could have made it to the door without buzzing the intercom?

Somebody who has the gate code already, you realized, and your heart sank. You weren’t ready to see him again— specifically, you weren’t ready to be seen by him again. Sure, cleaning up the trash and splashing your face was enough for a guest like Sam, but you had been imagining that when you saw Bucky again you’d be all dolled up looking like you were doing better than ever, like you were thriving without him just to rub it in that you were the best he ever had.

Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours after your realization so you could go to him on your own terms, with your whole speech prepared and everything? As an actress, you were much more comfortable reading lines than improvising.

Another knock made you sigh and set down the half-empty bottle of green juice, running up to the door to answer it.

“Hi,” he greeted soberly when you opened the door.

“Hey,” you nodded back, “listen, now’s not a great time…”

“Listen, I’m not here to cause any problems, or ask you for anything, I just need some of my stuff back,” he explained.

“Okay, it would’ve been better if you had come at another time—”

“I know, I’m not trying to invade your space,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have used the gate code, I didn’t mean to surprise you, honestly it was just second nature but I realize now I should’ve called first— well, I don’t think you’re taking my calls right now—”

“Bucky, please, we can talk later,” you assured, trying to shut the door.

“Can we?” he sighed. “I mean, will we?”

“Yes, but I’m busy right now,” you explained.

“When?” he asked, voice full of hope. “Soon?”

“I— I don’t know, sure,” you shrugged.

“You’re just saying that to get me to leave,” he realized flatly. “I understand, I don’t blame you— god, I just hate how scared you are of me. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I just wanted to keep you safe and now I can’t even do that, now you think of me as a threat. You should have the gate code changed, if it’ll make you sleep better—”

“I sleep fine, just go and we’ll deal with all of this soon— really, I promise!”

“You promised before and this week without you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!” he returned, getting more emotional as he gestured with his hands. “I’m not saying this should all go away in a week, there’s so much more I have to do, but… but not being able to see you at all is killing me. And it’s not like I don’t see you, your movies are on every fucking channel, but you know, I don’t get to really see you, talk to you— that’s what I miss, I miss when we would talk for hours.”

“I miss that too,” you agreed, “it’s all going to happen, it’s just that I need you to go right now—”

And of course, Sam picked just the right time to come running down your staircase with only a towel around his waist.

Bucky tensed up as he saw Sam, jaw tightening. "Oh."

You had no idea what would happen. Was Bucky going to attack him again? Would Sam try to hit Bucky? Were you going to drop dead from sheer embarrassment?

Instead, Bucky just sighed a little and looked to the ground, almost laughing though he seemed anything but amused. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘being alone’ means,” he sneered.

“Sam was just—” you began to defend.

"No, it’s okay, I see how it is," Bucky informed you quietly, coldly. He didn’t even seem angry anymore, just defeated. "I'll leave. I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry."

And he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, it's not—"

He shrugged your hand away as he kept walking, forcing you to chase him.

"Don't leave, please— Bucky, I love you too."

He stopped, but didn't turn around yet; you just stood behind him, staring at his back as it rose and fell with a slow breath. When he looked back at you, his eyes were red, brimming with tears and heartbreak. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you promised.

“And what does that mean for us?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted.

“I don’t think I’m ready to come back yet. As much as I miss living with you— and as much as my apartment is so gross—”

You giggled a little, glad you could laugh with him again even if just for a second.

“I need more time. I’m not going to subject you to me until I know I can be… stable, again.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Whatever you need.”

“But maybe we could… go out sometime? Somewhere where there aren’t paparazzi, ideally?”

“Uh, Vermont?” you offered jokingly. “I’ll find somewhere, though. We’ll talk this all out.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing a little. “Okay.”

With obvious hesitance, he leaned in slightly and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You wanted more than anything to get up on your tiptoes and kiss his lips, but it was probably too soon. He smiled down at you slightly before he turned to walk away, and you did the same as you made it back into the house.

“Hey, listen,” you began as you found Sam still waiting in a towel looking completely lost.

“That doesn’t sound like the beginning of good news,” he sighed.

“I’m so glad you were honest with me and I’m still really sorry for spitting on you, and for Bucky shoving you, and for everything awful that went down between us. And some part of me is always gonna love you, but—”

“I know,” he nodded, clearly disappointed but resigned in a peaceful way. “It’s okay. I had my chance, I blew it, and if this Bucky guy has his then I just hope he isn’t taking it for granted.”

You smiled a little. “He’s not.”

“Then I’ll get dressed and go. Please direct me to his favorite shirt, so that I may steal it,” he requested formally, making you laugh, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet; instead, you stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a good friend, Sam,” you mumbled against his bare chest.

“Yeah, kinda wish I wasn’t though,” he sighed as he hugged you back.

“Kinda wish I’d made you get dressed before hugging you,” you admitted, the awkwardness of his nudity finally catching up with you.

“Yeah…” he agreed in a whispered sigh.

His palms were actually sweaty; well, at least one of them was. He hadn’t been this worked up about a date since high school.

But there was so much more riding on that now than there was then. If he blew this, you probably would dump him for good, and he’d become ‘that guy Y/N Y/L/N dated for a minute’ to the rest of the world.

And there was so much more to him than that— he was learning to really let that shine after three weeks of therapy on Mondays and Thursdays— and so much more to his relationship with you, but it would still be pretty humiliating. More importantly, he would be heartbroken if he never got a chance to hold you again, kiss you again, tell you he loved you not during a fight…

His eyes glanced to the door instinctively when someone stepped in, but it still wasn’t you. He checked his watch and closed his eyes: it was still a few minutes early, you probably wouldn’t be here until 6:30, since that was when you’d agreed to meet when you discussed all this over text. But the length of time between 6:27 and 6:30 just seemed to keep getting longer and longer.

When you finally walked in, it was like one of those movie moments where everything slowed down, the ambient noise and background music faded away, and all he could see was you. If this was it, at least he got to see you like this one last time.

He waved you over, watching you walk closer and feeling his heart race as you pulled him into a hug.

“I missed you,” he blurted out right away.

“Missed you too,” you mumbled back, pulling from the embrace as he moved to pull out your chair for you.

“So,” he began as he sat down, “do you… want me to go first? Or do you want to go first?”

“I love you,” you said instantly, and he couldn’t fight a wide smile.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” you grinned, “I think you should go first.”

“Well, now that you say that suddenly I forget everything I’ve been practicing in the mirror all day,” he chuckled. “I already told you I’ve been in therapy, and they finally got me on stuff for my PTSD… it feels weird to say it, to talk about it like I really have it… but I do, and I’m working on not being ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the way I treated you that day, how I let my anger get the best of me and how I hurt you when you’re the most important person in my life. You didn’t deserve that. And if I haven’t said it enough, I’m truly sorry.”

“I know,” you nodded, “thank you. I’m glad you’re getting help… I don’t want to see you like that for your own sake, too.”

“Just because you don’t hate me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me. And just because you forgive me doesn’t mean you have to take me back,” he reminded you softly.

“But I do forgive you, and I do want you back,” you promised. “And I want to apologize, too, for the things I did wrong… obviously it’s basically impossible for me to hurt you physically, you’re so much stronger than I am, but I hurt you with how I handled some things and I regret that.”

“It did hurt, but I still reacted poorly at basically every turn. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous of Sam in the first place, if you and him have something going on then that’s none of my business—”

“Of course it’s your business, Bucky, you’re my boyfriend!” you laughed. “You don’t need to be jumping for joy when I talk to my ex, you just need to not be that aggressive about it.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. “Is he your ex?”

"When you came over the other day, and he was there… nothing happened, really. He came over, I told him I didn't want to be anything more than friends, he asked to use my shower… I don't know how to prove it to you—"

"You don't have to," he shook his head. "If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

“I mean, we hugged,” you remembered. “And he took your Fleetwood Mac shirt.”

“He what?” Bucky yelped, but then calmed himself down immediately. “Whatever, it’s fine, the point is that I have a lot of shit I still need to work on. Because the truth is, you’re not mine—”

“No, I—”

“Really, you’re not. You’re your own person. That’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place, I love that you’re independent and strong and… maybe a little crazy, but you’re exactly who you need to be. You don’t belong to me.”

“I don’t mind belonging to you as long as it’s fair, Bucky; as long as we belong to each other.”

“Sweetheart, you always had me,” he laughed. “From day one.”

“Then let’s figure your shit out. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit too… commitment issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues—”

“Ooh, I have that one too!” he beamed, making you laugh. “You know, when I was talking to my therapist, she had me do this thing where I talked about my hopes and stuff and, I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb but I wanted us to do that. I want to know what you’re hoping for for this.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “well, I’m hoping that you’ll move back in soon but not right away, maybe in a few months? I want us to get better at being apart, it’ll come in handy when I have to go to far off places for filming and stuff.”

“Totally with you,” he agreed, “might have to start buying some real furniture for my place though.”

“What about you?” you prompted.

“I’m hoping that you still think I'm cute enough to put up with some of my crap," he smirked, "if not all of it."

"Definitely," you grinned.

“I’m hoping that in the future, if you’re upset, you’ll tell me and we can work it out, and then have make-up sex," he added.

“Deal,” you chuckled.

“And, if I’m being honest,” he continued, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “I’m hoping that I can take you home tonight.”

It was so simple, but it made a shiver run down your spine. This distance had caused more than just your heart to grow fonder, and you were craving his touch more than ever. “Where’s home?” you asked coyly.

“It’s wherever you wanna go,” he purred. “Your place, my place, the back of your car—”

“That one,” you nodded eagerly, “definitely that one.”

You wanted to go right then and there but he made you sit through the whole dinner, with all the trappings of wining and dining, though for you it sometimes felt more like whining and dying because you needed him so bad you couldn't think. But he stayed patient, keeping up the conversation, asking more about a new project you were tentatively linked with, telling you more about the newest improvements to his prosthetic.

He picked up the check, which was absurd to you but he insisted, and escorted you to your car as if his intentions were just gentlemanliness even though you knew it was far worse than that.

He (gently) pinned you up against the side of the car, kissing you slowly, making you melt like it was no effort for him at all. As his lips made their way to your ear, he whispered to you darkly, "get in the back and spread your legs for me."

You were sure you'd never obeyed an instruction so fast, hopping in and happily watching him climb in behind you. He instantly knelt down between your spread legs, holding you by your thighs as he pushed your dress up, and you were already lifting your hips up to let him pull your panties down to your ankles.

"So eager," he whispered happily, kissing his way up one of your legs and never breaking his gaze away from yours. Your mouth fell slack as you watched him get higher and higher, closer to where you were already dripping with need. "Been wanting to do this since that night, however many months ago, where I had to watch somebody else do this to you," he admitted with a grin that nipped at your inner thighs. "I know I've tasted you a thousand times since then, but I wanted to do it here."

There was a lot you could say to that, but it was all lost to a gasp as he licked one long, thin stripe right across your entrance and over your clit. Already you were shaking and grabbing his hair— he'd grown it out just enough that you could really dig your fingers into it, but even so he kept his teasing pace.

He kept going, that slow and torturous cycle where just as your clit got some much-needed attention, he started back over at your leaking opening again.

"The fuck are you doing down there, trying to figure how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" you finally groaned, making him chuckle at how demanding you'd become.

"I'm just making sure I do this right," he dismissed. "Want more, baby?"

"Please," you shuddered. "Need your tongue inside me."

He grinned and put you out of your misery, really latching his lips onto you now as he pushed his tongue inside and curled it against your g-spot. It was enough to make your back arch dramatically and your fingers clench on his hair, a little growl echoing out of his mouth and into your body in response.

Your legs were accidentally clamping down on his head each time he sucked on your clit, but he didn't seem to mind, if anything it egged him on.

"C-close, so close," you chanted our warning as his hands tightened on your thighs he gave wide laps to your throbbing button.

"Say you love me baby," he mumbled his demand against your skin.

"Bucky, yes, I love you," you whimpered. "Love you so much, fuck, I'm gonna come…"

He nodded as he wrapped his lips around your clit and kept sucking, harder than ever, until your whole body was literally quaking and you weren't sure if you had closed your eyes or if your vision just went black for a second. As if that weren't enough, he kept going until you had to push him off of you by his forehead, shivering and catching your breath as aftershocks rocked your body.

"You're so amazing," he groaned huskily as he sat up and pulled you into a rough kiss, the taste of your pleasure coating your tongue as it tangled with his. Just as you were about to reach down and attempt to operate his belt buckle with your tingling fingers, he pulled back from the kiss a moment too soon. "And now you get to drive yourself home," he grinned, patting you on the cheek reassuringly.

"What? That's it?!" you squawked.

"You just came so hard you nearly blacked out and you're asking me if that's it?" he smirked incredulously.

"I just thought you would want to, you know… go all the way," you explained, cringing at the immature phrase.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and this is still our first date," he reminded you.

"But aren't you, you know…?"

"Oh, I am," he nodded quickly, leaning in to bite at your neck. "Don't worry about me, princess, I can take care of myself." He chuckled at your whimper and pulled back to look right into your eyes. "But it's not about me, is it? You want my cock all for yourself, don't you?"

You nodded, making him giggle sweetly.

"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," he cooed, poking the tip of your nose with his finger and laughing harder at your needy whine. "We'll go out again next weekend and maybe if it goes well, it'll lead to something more, alright?"

"Okay," you sighed, "I can wait a week. I think."

He smiled and kissed you again, helping you pull your panties back up and rubbing your thigh appreciatively. "Goodnight," he whispered against your lips, slipping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

You sighed and let your head fall back against the seat, watching out the window as he walked back to his bike. You hated to see him go, but you did love watching him walk away.

two years later…

“Will the Six Million Dollar Man be joining us?” Sam asked with a smirk as he glanced to the door of the bowling alley, checking to see if anyone had walked in.

“When he gets off of work,” you promised.

“Why do you call him that?” Natasha asked Sam innocently.

“You’ll see,” Sam promised, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek, but you figured there was a pretty good chance she wouldn't get the reference anyway.

Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway and you and Sam waved him to the correct lane. “Hey guys,” he greeted, “hey babe,” he pulled you into a quick kiss. “And happy birthday, Sam.”

“Shh, keep it down, we don’t want any Hollywood people to find out that I’m aging,” Sam joked. “Are you gonna join the game or just observe?”

“I’ll join, if it’s not too late,” Bucky decided.

“Since when do you bowl?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Since I got the prosthetic recalibrated to throw the perfect strike every time,” he winked.

Beers and turns went pretty quickly after that, light conversation interspersed in between, until the more raucous parts of the evening died down and you left Bucky for a moment to join Sam at the bar.

Sam nodded to acknowledge you as you leaned beside him, and you ordered yourself one more drink before you called it a night.

“So, Natasha,” you started the conversation, watching the way Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “She’s great.”

“Yeah, she’s really something,” he agreed. “I wanted you guys to meet her sooner, but you were gone filming for so long and all.”

“Don’t fuck this one up, Sam,” you threatened.

“I’m trying not to!” he defended, before looking around like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. As you furrowed your brow and wondered what he was up to, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and showed you a picture: a ring, with a massive diamond and accents of citrine.

“Holy shit…” you sighed, pulling the phone closer to get a better look.

“Had it custom made, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow,” he explained, putting the phone away. “I don’t even know how I’m gonna ask her yet… I just know I need to snag this one before she slips through my fingers.”

“You’re really like a whole new man,” you realized aloud.

“I’m telling you, this girl… she really changed everything for me,” he sighed wistfully, and you nodded because you knew what that was like.

“I knew you just needed a good woman to straighten you out, Wilson,” you joked, patting him on the shoulder, “my only mistake was ever thinking it was me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was you, too,” he smiled softly. “I really loved you, even when I was stepping out on you… and I think I needed to love you, and to lose you, to be here now. So, thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” you laughed a little, taking a slow sip of your drink.

“And if she says yes, I’m gonna need all the marriage advice you have to offer,” he bargained.

“I mean, we’ve only been married for a month,” you chuckled, “I don’t think we’re far enough into it to really provide significant guidance.”

“And you’ve already gone through so much together. Is he doing alright? You know, his nightmares and stuff…”

You glanced over and where Bucky and Natasha were chatting, admiring how at ease he looked; he usually had a harder time with new people. “Yeah, it’s been a lot better, he’s on new meds… how did you know about that?”

“He talks to me sometimes,” Sam admitted. “And as someone who has played a PTSD-striken veteran in not one, but two major motion pictures, I’m sort of an expert,” he winked, but then got serious again. “I would’ve asked him how he was doing myself but he wouldn’t let me ask him personal stuff on my birthday.”

“I bet he’d let you ask him for his opinion on the ring you just showed me.”

“Um, why would I want his opinion when he bought you that?” he grimaced, pointing at the ring on your finger. “I mean, sapphires? Really?”

“Cut it out,” you laughed, shoving him on the shoulder.

“Okay, fine,” he relented.

“Are you coming to my premiere tomorrow, by the way?” you asked. “I have it on good authority you were invited, since I demanded it.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded, “Nat really wants to go, too. She’s a big fan of your work.”

“Well, tell her she was great in that one about the missing girl,” you replied.

“I’ll be sure to tell her exactly that.”

“We should head home, you know how early premiere prep starts,” you sighed with an exhausted roll of your eyes, finishing the last of your drink before grabbing Sam on the shoulder. “Good luck with however you decide to pop the question with Nat. Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded and let you go, and once you got Bucky’s attention and said goodbye to Nat, the two of you made your way out back to the car.

“I’m glad you and Sam get along,” you reminded him as you squeezed his hand.

“What gives you that impression?” he scoffed.

You shook your head and smiled, letting him walk you to the car in silence.

Less than 24 hours later, you held his hand in just the same way as you sat beside each other in the screening auditorium, watching your latest film fade to black and hearing the crowd at the premiere— mostly cast, crew, and critics— erupt into applause.

"I have a little surprise for you," you whispered in his ear as the credits began to flash.

"I am not gonna let you blow me in this crowded theater," he instantly scolded.

"No, not that," you giggled, although you secretly wondered how much less crowded the theater would have to be for him to let you try it. "Just wait until my name comes up."

Written and Directed by Hope Van Dyne

A Paramount Pictures Film

In Association with Europa

And then there it was, in big white letters, just as much of a trip to see as the first time you saw your name on the big screen. But something very important had changed.

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes

Everyone at the screening was clapping and cheering, but you were so focused on him that his whisper was the only thing you heard. "Sweetheart," he gasped, and you smiled wide. "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to."

"It's just a stage name, if you want to keep it the same—"

"Buck, really. I want your name there with mine."

"But your credits…" he protested, though the break in his voice made it clear he was tearing up. "You're an actress and you've established your career already and it's so important to you—"

"Hey," you soothed, reaching up to brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "Your wife is the most important thing I've ever been."

#bucky barnes x reader #bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes bodyguard au

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bearriebelliejam · 3 years

Text

"Hit One Where One Lives"

Summary ↳ Atsumu has had feelings for you since the day you've met, and he's always had trouble controlling his urges.

Words ↳ 1,566

Tags ↳ 18+, NSFW, characters above legal age, descriptions of NSFW fantasies, no actual fucking, atsumu is horny, mentions of high school days, angst but only like a couple sentences

A/N ↳ ahh I'm so sorry this is short and got cut off, but if you guys like it and want more please lmk!!

hit one where one lives

hit (one) where (one) lives

To affect one on a personal or intimate level.

People by nature only care about an issue if it hits them where they live.

Atsumu Miya was good at a lot of things.

Setting, spiking, serving, receiving, and bargaining for discounts on fatty tuna.

But one thing that Atsumu could never, ever bring himself to perfect was the art of conveying his feelings properly. It was something Osamu had confronted him about during their early high school years, recognizing his twin’s coping mechanism to protect him from his own self-destructive thoughts. A strained smile and bottles of bright yellow hair dye could only do so much for the rather eccentric Miya twin, something his brother had warned him would lead to burnout by his early 20’s. Atsumu, at the time, would only laugh it off, claiming that his inquisitive behavior was more stalkerish than affectionate.

This was until Atsumu had cost Inarazaki their spot in the nationals during his first year. He had never considered himself to be someone with butter fingers, in fact, he prided himself in his setting skill. Too much sometimes. Atsumu’s scalp felt raw from how his fingers dug into his hair, pulling at the obnoxiously dyed strands as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. It felt juvenile. He was in high school now, he had no reason to be mourning over such a stupid mistake.

Atsumu flinched lightly when the cool condensation of a plastic water bottle hit his calf, feeling the Air Conditioning in the now almost empty stadium blowing against the wet spot on his leg. Maybe he was dreaming, he thought, looking into the slightly glossy eyes that bore back into his. Yep, definitely dreaming. Little did he know those eyes would be the focus of his J/O sessions for the rest of his life.

His breath caught in his throat as your rosy cheeks swelled with your smile, although empathetic. It was too much of a foreign feeling to him. You were just doing your job, being the one and the only manager of a team as arduous as Inaraziki- in the same grade as him, no less- meaning that you had to sniff out each and every demanding member. Atsumu didn’t think he could ever forget how you sat next to him that day, softly rubbing the area between his shoulder blades and whispering soft words of encouragement as you helped him pop the lid on his bottle. You admitted to him about how even though you barely knew shit about volleyball, you could tell from the way his teammates and captain regarded him after the match that it wasn’t his fault. That night, after walking you home and waving you off down your driveway, Atsumu felt a foreign feeling rising in his chest.

This feeling would only continue to grow over the next four years.

Whether it be the way you had to clutch your knees every time he made you laugh too hard, the way you’d sneak a pudding to him during the mornings where your classes lined up, or the way that you’d both pull some sort of immature prank on his disgruntled brother. It was safe to say that you two were super close. But not in the way that Atsumu wanted you to be. Alongside every little detail that made you a great friend, there were way too many details that made you desirable. That time during the summer when it got so hot that you stripped yourself of your short sleeve for a tank top that accentuated every one of your curves still keeps him up at night. Not to mention the form-fitting elastic shorts that hugged your ass so right that even the newbies on the team couldn’t help themselves from trying to sneak a peak.

This would continue up until graduation, where Atsumu opened the door to your very teary-eyed and very emotional-looking self. Your eyes were brimming with tears, and he didn’t think those delectable swollen cheeks of yours could puff out any more than they already were. With shaky hands, you lifted the slightly crumpled piece of paper up to your chest. The thick black letters of ‘MSBY’ must have grown fists and hit him in the gut because before he knew it, he was lifting you a foot off the ground with an enthusiastic spin.

Fluffy white cotton surrounded Atsumu’s vision as he dried his hair from the shower, letting out a long sigh of relief at the feeling of his muscles relaxing after such a long practice session. It was the off-season, and the MSBY Black Jackals were taking the time off doing what they always did. Play volleyball. Obviously not to the extent as they would during the actual season, but every moment spent not doing something productive was a second basically submitting victory to the other team. That’s how Bokuto put it at least, before ultimately spraining his wrist from going too hard on the dumbbells. Safe to say both Coach and Akaashi were not happy.

“Hey, Omi-om, you should totally let me borrow that body spray you got.” Atsumu didn’t typically wear any sort of cologne, but the way you had him bend down to your level to smell his shirt collar after Kiyoomi’s scent wafted onto him was the result of a long sleepless night for him.

“Get your own, Miya.” Kiyoomi scoffed, rolling his eyes as he threw on his MSBY brand sweater. Atsumu pouted, quickly forgetting about every single one of his surroundings as he saw his phone light up with your contact name, your photo staring back at him expectantly. He had taken the photo when you had dragged him to the mall with you once, having slid a 20-yen coin into the slot of a mechanical bull riding machine. He had found it amusing at first, the way you had desperately grasped at the horns of the animal as it began to speed up, but his laughter was caught short. His eyes had trailed down your back that was arched suggestively off the saddle, hips moving with the steady bucking of the machine-

“Shit-” Snapping himself out of his erotic memory, he quickly clicked the green ‘answer call’ button. “Hello?” “Atsumu, are you almost done getting ready yet?” Your voice alone was enough to ease the tension building inside of him, shoulders relaxing as he let out a low chuckle.

“Why, missing my pretty face?” He could at least acknowledge that he only flirted with you to try and ease the urges growing inside him, he wasn’t that stupid. It was also partially because of the way the tips of your ears would redden at his sly comments, but you would always brush it off as being part of his play-boy-like personality. If only you knew how much he wanted to change that.

“I’m missing that your pretty face isn’t hurrying the hell up and getting in my goddamn car.” The teasing lilt to your voice did nothing to prevent the way his chest swelled when you called him pretty, a stupid, joyous smile spreading on his lips.

“Alright, alright, hold your horses. I’ll be right out.” You blew a raspberry into your phone, Atsumu giving one of his own before hanging up and grabbing his gym bag.

Nudging open the locker room door with his side, Atsumu had to force his dick from twitching in his shorts as he witnessed the sight in front of him. You were bent over the reception desk of the college gym, talking to the lady behind the desk as you fiddled with the heel of your stiletto. His eyes traced the way the fabric of your skirt hugged down your thighs. You really had no idea what you were doing to him. Discreetly making his way up behind you he shot the desk lady a wink with a finger over his lips, receiving a gulp and small nod from her before turning back to you.

“And that’s when I told Coach, we need to stop letting Bokuto near the equipment when he’s having one of his emo-” A dramatic squeal ended up finishing your little rant as Atsumu’s muscled arms hooked under your shoulders and yanked you off the floor. In the midst of your flailing, you caught a glimpse of bleached blonde hair in your peripherals. “Atsumu Miya set me down this instant!” Although your face was contorted in frustration, the laughter that slipped between your words disclosed your amusement.

The specific position that Atsumu had you in reminded him of one of the fantasies he had of you once. Your breath hot against his cheek as he plowed into you from behind, strong hands caressing the bulge that appeared in your stomach whenever he bottomed out. He would feel the sweaty slap of your ass against his pelvis with every harsh thrust, cries escaping your lips at the feeling.

“Atsumu?” You looked over your shoulder at the athlete in confusion. Realizing that he had spaced out, Atsumu mentally slapped himself as he smirked and set you down. “Sorry, sweetheart, got lost in thought.” He ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to act casual, which was not missed by the reception lady as she grabbed her jacket and left the office, clearly sick of the flirting. A familiar smile spread across your cheeks, ears tinting in the way that made his cock twitch in his shorts, this time failing to conceal it. “Your place tonight, right?”

“You know it.” You giggled. This was going to be a long night for him.

dm/send an ask to be added to my @ list!! currently empty <3

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emilyshotchniss · 3 years

Text

Starting Fresh

Summary: After your best friend Elle leaves the BAU, you’re devastated - and a replacement agent is just adding salt to the wound. Or is it?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem! BAU reader

Warnings: a little angst? fluff, non-graphic implied smut, nothing major:)

Word Count: 1677

Oh you have got to be kidding me...

You looked up from your desk to find a slender brunette woman standing in Hotch's office. She was carrying a large box, presumably filled with her things, and that could only mean one thing: she was likely Elle's replacement. You rolled your eyes as JJ called you all into the roundtable room, interrupting Hotch's conversation with said brunette, leaving her standing doe-eyed in the doorway, clutching her box. You followed JJ to meet the others, huffing as you went.

"Her body isn't even cold yet! She's been gone less than a week!" You exclaimed to the others.

"Y/N, calm down. We don't even know who she is," Derek said, trying to reassure you. Hotch entered the room with Gideon, looking both annoyed and confused.

"Who was that in your office?" You asked, trying to act cool.

"Nobody. JJ, lets present," He said, abruptly changing the subject.

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

You made your way across the jet and sat opposite Hotch. He glanced up at you, waiting for you to speak. You squirmed awkwardly, before blurting out your question.

"I just need to know one thing... Is she replacing Elle?" You asked.

"Y/N, not now. I know how close you were with Elle, but this is a private matter." He stated.

"Fine," You sighed, and made your way over to Gideon, at the other end of the jet.

"Hey Gideon, can I ask you something?"

"Fire away kiddo," He replied.

"That woman... You know, the one from Hotch's office this morning? Is she replacing Elle?" You asked, desperate for some more information.

"Look," He began. "I don't know who she is, or why she's here, but she has all the right paperwork saying she's supposed to be here. Hotch is waiting to hear back from Strauss about her." He told you, keeping his voice low so Hotch wouldn't hear. You knew he'd be honest with you, he was almost like a father figure to you, ever since he took you under his wing when you first joined the team. He knew that Elle was your best friend, and how much her leaving affected you - and thought it only fair you knew all the information regarding her vacant position.

"Thank you, Gideon," You said, sincerely.

"Anytime kiddo," He replied, before returning to his book.

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

You returned from St Louis, laughing with the team as you entered the bullpen. You noticed the light in Hotch's office was on, and upon closer investigation you saw the same brunette sitting on Hotch's couch, waiting. You knew then she'd be sticking around.

"Alright guys, I'm heading out," You declared, masking your true emotions, dodging everyones' glances.

You walked swiftly to your car, and got in quickly. Everything then hit you at once - Elle was gone - and she was never coming back. Your best friend, was gone for good. You wiped your tears, and drove home, preparing yourself for the difficult day ahead of you.

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

Walking into the bullpen the next morning, you saw the brunette arranging some of her things opposite your desk - what was Elle's desk, was now her desk. You sighed, rolling your eyes, psyching yourself up, when Garcia body-blocked you.

"Stop." She stated.

"Ugh- Penelope," You said, attempting to get past, and failing miserably.

"Before you go any further, fix your face. I know she's not Elle and I know you miss her, but she's only trying to do her job. She's actually very lovely," She replied, smiling and booping your nose as she moved aside.

"Okay Garcia, I'll give her a shot," I said, walking up to my desk, when I heard my name.

"Y/N? Agent Y/N Y/L/N?" The voice said. "Hi, I'm Agent Emily Prentiss," She said, extending her hand for you to shake. You hadn't noticed over the last few days, but she had gorgeous brown eyes, you could almost get lost in them.

"Y- Yes, hi," You replied, shaking her hand, before sitting down. "You nervous?" I joked.

"Uh- yeah, actually, a little. I hear I have big shoes to fill," She said, with a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"That you do," You replied, trying to be nice, "But don't worry, I have a feeling you'll fit right in," You finished, no longer faking the niceness, finding it easier to speak to her as the conversation went on. But god, those eyes...

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

"The cell members bailed out through a tunnel, the DEA recovered a nextel two-way and managed to intercept a message," JJ began, handing each of us a piece of paper, when she stopped Emily.

"That's not the transcript, it's-" She began, but Emily stopped her.

"No, it's in Arabic," She stated.

"Uh, our friends surprised us and eloped, we can no longer wait for the wedding as planned, we can deliver our gift at the next crescent." She said, oblivious to everyone's stares and gaping jaws. She looked up, as embarrassment flushed over her cheeks. I was in awe.

"I lived in several middle eastern countries growing up," She mumbled. This woman really was full of surprises, wasn't she? You didn't know what you were feeling, but as soon as you met those dark brown eyes you knew there was something different about her. I placed my hand on her thigh, reassuring her. She smiled gently in return, placing her hand delicately on top of yours, squeezing it gently. You were secretly praying that she would be your new field partner, but knowing Hotch and his trust issues, she probably wouldn't even fly with us.

You all returned to your desks, as Hotch and Gideon stood in his office doorway, quite obviously discussing Emily.

"Jason, this is an interrogation, not a training exercise." Hotch said sternly.

"She's the only member fluent in Arabic," Gideon countered.

"There's other translators," Hotch replied. You and Emily both glanced up from your desks.

"They haven't studied behavior," Gideon rebutted again.

"Does she even have her ready bag yet?" Hotch asked. At this, I noticed Emily duck beneath her desk, fumbling about.

"My guess is there isn't much that woman's unprepared for," Gideon said. Just as the words left Gideons' mouth, Emily re-emerged from below her desk, sliding her packed ready bag onto the table, standing awkwardly next to it. You couldn't help but giggle at her, which caught her attention.

"What," She grinned.

"Nothing, it- it's just your cute, that's all," You smiled back, causing her to blush. You had no idea where your boldness was coming from, but you weren't lying - she was cute...

"Prentiss, Y/L/N, you're flying with Gideon to Guantanamo, car leaves in 4 minutes." Hotch stated.

"Yes sir," You both replied, Emily struggling to hide her wide smile. She had the most amazing smile...

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

The team returned back from GTMO, after an exhausting few days. Thankfully, you were able to prevent the terrorist attack that Al Ikhteraa had planned, and everyone was headed to O'Keefe's for drinks. Hotch went straight home to Haley and Jack, and Gideon decided to skip. You were headed to your cars, when Emily stopped you right before you unlocked your door.

"Hey, Y/N wait up," She said, running over to you. You immediately felt your palms begin to sweat and your heart rate increase. You never expected to - but you liked her. A lot.

"Hey, I just wanted to say thank you," She began.

"Thank you? For what?" You said, letting out a confused giggle. She smiled back, sending the butterflies in your stomach crazy..

"Oh, just helping me settle in the last few days,and being the most awesome field partner I could've asked for, having my back and all," She continued. "I know it couldn't have been easy, you know, they told me you were close with Agent Greenaway," She said. Oh my god - you'd gone the whole week without thinking about Elle once. Were you finally moving past her?

"Uh- Uh yeah, yeah, she was my best friend." I replied, looking at the ground.

"I'm sorry, that must've been difficult," She said, grabbing your arm, the physical contact sending chills down your spine. Screw it. You had had a great week despite your first ideas, and you were feeling bold.

"I wanted to hate you so badly," You began, catching her off guard. "I wanted to hate you, because you were replacing Elle, because I knew that you joining the team would make me have to accept that my best friend was gone, and never coming back." She tightened her grip on your arm, softly stroking it with her thumb.

"But as soon as we first spoke, I knew there was something about you that I couldn't quite put my finger on. And as the week went on, I only became more sure." You continued, smiling at her, making her blush.

"Sure of what?" She questioned, nervously giggling.

"Sure that I wanted to do this..." You hummed, before grabbing her waist and pulling her close to you, then gently placing your lips on hers. You panicked when you didn't feel her kiss back initially, but were reassured when you felt her tongue brush over your bottom lip. You started slow, but things progressed fairly quickly and she took control, pushing you flush against your car. She let out a few faint groans of pleasure, before you pulled away for air, grinning from ear to ear, feeling like you were going to burst with happiness.

"You still wanna get drinks?" She whispered.

"I have other plans in mind, if you'd like to join me," You winked, before unlocking your car.

"I'd love to," She replied, jumping in the passenger side. The whole car journey home was filled with stolen glances and wandering hands, and when you finally arrived at your apartment, you could barely contain yourselves. Lips met, clothes were ripped from each other, and you spent the night exploring every inch of each other. You both knew then that this was the beginning of a beautiful adventure...

#emily prentiss x reader #emilyprentiss #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss x female reader #bau team #wlw

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cycat4077 · 3 years

Text

Proposing Permission

Summary: You and Sonny have been together for a year but your idea of celebrating is slightly different than his. Set during S18 - roughly November 2016. Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: None, except fluff...and maybe suggestive hints here and there ;) Words: 2479 AO3 here

Technically part 13 in the Changes verse, but can act as a stand-alone, too!

“Mom!” you exclaim as soon as you hear her ‘hello?’ on the end of the line. “You'll never guess what just happened! – Wait, how'd you know? – He did? Of course, he did!” you laugh happily, flashing a bright smile up at Sonny who sits beside you on the sofa.

Sonny would give you the abridged version of the events that led up to this moment later, but at the time, things went a little like this:

-x-

“Uh, Carisi? Where are we going? The turn-off for the I-87 South, is that-a-way…” Amanda turns her body towards the traffic junction that passes by. She then whips back around to stare at her partner in the diver’s seat, a disgruntled look on her face.

“I need ta make a detour,” he states, eyes never leaving the highway.

“But we’re on a case!” she protests, growing irritated.

“Yeah, but we did what we came upstate to do. Got some answers, relayed them to Lieu. Technically, we’re off duty right now.” Sonny taps the wheel with his thumbs, trying to avoid his partner's gaze.

But Amanda Rollins is not one to concede so easily. “Tell me where we’re going, Dominick,” she drops her voice to a stern tone, eyes boring into the side of Sonny’s head.

Sonny lets out a nervous breath and says your name. “Remember how her parents live upstate? Well…” he reaches into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, producing a velvet box. Amanda gasps and nabs it from his grasp. She flips the little box open, finding a ring. “I wanna propose,” admits Sonny, “but I wanna ask her folks first.”

Dragging her eyes away from the box, Rollins frowns. “It’s twenty-sixteen, Sonny…you don’t need parental permission anymore.”

“I know, I know,” dismisses Sonny. “But that’s how my pa did it, and, she’s really close with her parents. It seems right to ask ‘em first.”

Amanda smiles in spite of herself. The gesture is very much a ‘Sonny Carisi’ thing to do. So, she cracks a joke instead. “What’re you gonna do? Salute her dad and say: ‘Requesting permission to marry your daughter, sir!’”

“Rawllins,” he groans, trying to act annoyed while keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do what you gotta do, partner,” she winks before turning her attention back to the box. “This ring is gorgeous!”

-x-

The drive was absolutely beautiful. Being October, the further away from concrete Sonny and Amanda drove, the denser the colourful forests became. It was picture perfect and Sonny’s only wish was that you could have been along to see it too.

Pulling up to your childhood home, Sonny leaves Amanda in the passenger’s seat. Afterall, this detour had to be relatively quick to prevent Lieu from breathing down his neck about it.

As Sonny makes his way to the door, his legs are a little wobbly and his pulse is racing. He has met your parents before and they adore him, yet, as he waits for his knock to be answered, his nerves get the better of him. This is a huge step and he hopes that they believe him worthy of it.

Then the door clicks open to reveal your mother. “Sonny!” she exclaims happily, but immediately her face falls. “Is everything okay?” In hindsight, an unannounced, unaccompanied visit does seem a little concerning.

Clueing in, Sonny immediate puts your mother at ease. “Yeah, yeah!” he reassures with a smile. “Work brought me upstate and I, uh, I wanted ta ask y’both somethin’ while I was up here.”

“Of course, of course!” Your mother ushers Sonny into the house before giving him a giant hug. Just as she releases him your father walks into the room, coming over with a large smile and firm handshake.

“Sir,” greets Sonny with a nod.

The three of them then take a seat at the dining room table; your mother unsurprisingly offers Sonny everything in her fridge. Once satisfied that he’s not lying about not being hungry, she continues. “So, son, what’s on your mind?”

The Italian swallows nervously. He looks to his fingers, thrumming them on the table top while his right knee bounces anxiously. Finally, he begins to speak: “Well, as you know, your daughter and I have been together for a while now and, we love each other very much. I love her very much.” A grin begins to break out on your mom’s face, her intuition giving her a good idea of where the conversation is headed. “And I, uh,” continues Sonny, “well, it seemed only right for me ta ask the two of you first. I w-wanna ask her ta marry me.”

Suspicions confirmed, your mother squeals with delight, grabbing onto your father’s arm and giving it a loving squeeze.

“I got a ring already and everything, if ya wanna see it,” Sonny adds quickly as if it will reenforce how committed he is to you. He pulls out the box once more and hands it over to your mom.

“Oh, Sonny,” she sighs looking up to your boyfriend. “She’s going to absolutely love it.”

“So, I, uh, have both your blessings then?” His blue eyes dart nervously back and forth between your parents.

Finally, your dad chimes in. “Of course!” he exclaims happily, his voice choking up ever so slightly. “You’re a good man and I couldn’t imagine my girl with anyone else.”

Sonny’s stomach does a somersault as he is immediately flooded with relief. “Thank ya!” he leaps to his feet. Your parents stand with him, both delivering their future son-in-law a squeezing hug. Parting, Sonny reluctantly explains that he can’t stay and that he must be getting back to the city.

“Alright, hon,” your mother coos. “Let us know what happens. Your secret is safe with us for now, but we’ll be waiting anxiously by the phone for the happy news!”

“Will do,” beams Sonny before he heads back to the squad car. Your parents wave him goodbye until he’s out of sight.

-x-

It’s your anniversary! One complete year of you and Sonny (finally) getting together! But…the universe really didn’t care about that. Nope! Because a faculty meeting was called on the one day where you didn’t have classes to teach. It ran from midday and into the evening and there was no possible way of getting out of it either. You loved your job, you really did, but today was supposed to be for you and Sonny. Nothing fancy, of course, but you had planned a lazy morning, followed up with cooking together and turning it into a romantic evening celebration.

“Uhhggghhh!” you groan, hanging your head and slouching your shoulders.

Sonny places his warm hands on your arms, grinning. “It’s alright, sweetheart.” You can feel those blue eyes shining down on you and, the next thing you know, a finger is gingerly tilting your chin up towards his. “I ain’t mad at all, okay? Shit happens. Jeez, how many times have I hadta cancel a date with you ‘cause I got called in or hadta work late?”

You bunch your mouth at the corner, frustrated. “I know, but it’s our anniversary and I was looking forward to spending all day with you!”

“So was I, but we can still make the most of it.” He kisses you on the nose. “I’ll go ahead ‘n make dinner and then when ya get home we can celebrate.”

“You sure? It was supposed to be a team effort. I can just grab some takeout on the way home –”

“Nonsense,” Sonny grins. “Besides, my cookin’ is way better than any takeout in the city.” His words make you laugh. “There’s that beautiful smile,” he beams, sweeping the hair back from your eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, doll. Now, go on before you’re late ‘n try not ta fall asleep.”

You give Sonny a sweet kiss and make your way to the door. Before exiting, you flash a sultry look over your shoulder at your smiling boyfriend. “I promise I’ll make it up to you later, babe. It’s just a shame you have to wait so long to see what’s underneath this dress.” You slip out the door before you’re able to see the sign of the cross Sonny makes in attempt to absolve himself of his sinful thoughts.

-x-

The journey back home never felt so exhausting. Maybe it was the fact that the meeting seemed to drag on forever, especially when all you could think about was curling up next to Sonny. Your feet ached in your pumps and you cursed your wardrobe choice. Though, you were still new at the college and thus wanted to make a professional impression.

Once you finally reach your floor, a distinct cooking aroma floats down the hallway. Your stomach grumbles, knowing exactly which apartment is the origin and eager to taste what smells so delicious.

Opening your door, you are greeted by your wonderful boyfriend and his smiling eyes. He’s dressed up in a crisp shirt and slacks. “Welcome home, sweetheart and happy anniversary!”

You smile up at him and step into his outstretched arms. His attire seemed a bit formal, but you weren’t complaining. The way button up shirts hugged his arms and torso always made your face flush and heart beat a little faster. Those same arms also fit perfectly around you when he held you close.

As you begin to withdraw from his embrace however, you notice just how much Sonny is perspiring. “Babe, you alright?” Your brow knits with concern. “You’re sweating a bunch…”

Sonny quickly averts his gaze and turns towards the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” he gives a dismissive wave. “The oven’s been on all day.”

You know him well enough to tell that something is not quite right and his half-hearted answer gives you reason to follow him and press the issue. But as you round the corner, you’re stopped dead in your tracks by an elaborate display.

Sonny has gone all out. A hearty meal sits steaming on a table set for two, a single rose in a crystal vase resides at the center, and he’s even arranged some of your candles to provide low lighting. The sight of it all leaves you feeling as though your heart will flutter right out of your chest.

"Sonny," you whisper, hand over your heart. "You didn't have to do all this." You then peer up at him with glassy eyes.

"I wanted tonight to be special. Just you ‘n me celebrating a whole magical year of being together.”

Closing the distance, you lean up and place your lips tenderly to his. Sonny bends forward, deepening the kiss. You run a hand tenderly up the front of his shirt feeling the contours of his muscles beneath your fingers. Sonny reaches to cover your hand with his, grasping it carefully and reluctantly pulling it away. Breaking apart, he smiles, "Food's gonna get cold, doll."

The two of you sit down to a quiet, romantic dinner, clinking glasses in a toast to your relationship. But Sonny still has beads of sweat forming along his brow. "Babe, are you sure you're alright?" you point to his forehead. "It's not that hot in here..."

He swallows thickly, looking away. "Yeah...I'm just a little nervous is all." Sonny then focuses on you with big, blue eyes.

Yours narrow in confusion. Nervous? Why would he be nervous? It just us here...

Sonny flashes you shy smile before reaching across the table to take your hand in his. He stares at it in contemplation as he runs his thumb lovingly over your knuckles.

Biting his lip, he shifts those gorgeous eyes back to yours. "We've been through a lot in a year, doll," he begins. "And last summer I never knew how my life would change when you walked through that squad room door. I never knew that I could love someone so completely until I fell in love with you. My whole heart is yours and -"

"Sonny!" you release a sweet laugh. "You don't owe me a speech! I know how much you love me, silly! And I hope you know how much I love you too."

Suddenly, Sonny seems a little terrified. Had he rehearsed this or something?

"Just hear me out, ‘kay?" he implores following a shaky breath.

You smile softly and squeeze his hand signaling for him to continue.

"Believe me, doll, I've never felt more loved by anyone but you. I love waking up with ya in the mornin' and fallin' asleep together at night. My heart skips a beat thinkin' about a future with you. So, I guess that's why I'm sweatin'."

All of a sudden the warmth of Sonny's hand disappears. He shifts to get up from the table, slipping his fingers into his pocket. Then you realize that he's getting down on one knee. Your heart begins to thunder in your chest and a gasp catches in your throat.

Sonny's eyes lock onto yours as he produces a velvet box and opens it. There sits a white gold ring topped by a dainty solitaire diamond. Your eyes immediately rim with tears as you hear Sonny softly speak your name. "Will you marry me?"

A large smile erupts upon your face and you instantly blurt out a "yes!"

Sonny's expression changes to one of pure love. He delicately slips the ring on your finger and quickly rises to capture your lips in a kiss.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he effortlessly scoops you up. "I'm so happy," you speak against his lips, eliciting a tight squeeze from your fiancé.

Fiancé! Sonny Carisi is your fiancé! The man you love with your whole heart. You've always believed that it isn’t the ring on their finger that make two people married – that’s at least how committed you feel towards Sonny – Yet now, you couldn’t be happier to make what you share official.

"I'm so happy too, doll! I love you! I love you! I love you!" Sonny reciprocates in between swift kisses to your cheeks, nose and lips. Then his eyes darken and he bows his head towards your neck, nibbling and suckling at the sensitive skin that resides there.

You sigh, a tingling sensation spreading throughout your body. God, is he good at this! But then, your mind comes back to reality and you gently, albeit reluctantly, push him away. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” you chant, tapping your hands lightly on his chest.

Sonny pulls back but his eyes still hungrily flicker to where his lips were focused mere moments before.

“I have to go call my mom! She’d kill me if she knew I didn’t tell her right away.” You watch as Sonny smirks. “But then I promise we’ll celebrate properly…after all, you still haven’t seen what’s underneath this dress.”

-x-

Fluffy enough for ya? Heehee

Tag list? @barbasbodaciousbeard @teamsladsandgents @adarafaelbarba @caracalwithchips @averyhotchner (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

#Sonny Carisi #sonny carisi x reader #Sonny Carisi x You #sonnyshine of my life #law and order svu #SVU fanfiction #the Changes Verse #my fanfic #changes #SVU s18

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rebel666 · 4 years

Text

Confessions of a Joann Employee

UPDATE: If you want to send more confessions and/or report what’s happening at your Joann anonymously, there’s EmployeeJoann on Twitter that is responding to messages. They are constantly sharing and updating more as it becomes available to them!

A confession from a Joann employee that is in one of the Covid-19 effected areas and has so much to say about it:

-We are staying open until told by the state otherwise. Even though they declared a State of Emergency and all non-essential businesses must be shut down by 5pm on Saturday 3/21, our company is refusing to. Because Joann themselves is trying to deem Joann as an "essential" store. They even put it all over their website that we are here for the people making masks and small businesses who need fabric to continue. They quote that we are here for the customers and that we as United States Americans have a responsibility to fill this need. They aren’t looking at curbside only as an option, they aren’t looking at offering more benefits for shopping online, they want us open and people in stores. They are sending us emails with pieces of paper (unofficial, not state made) to print out and put in our cars to say we are on the way to work at an "essential retailer." Anything to make it so we can remain open.

-This sucks for employees and here’s why: The way Joann is set up is if we get sick, if we have to leave to take care of someone who is sick, if we want to self-quarantine (because of our health or the health of our loved ones), we either quit or ask to be put on Leave of Absence and cannot return without medical clearance. If we come into contact with someone who has Covid-19 (even if they came into the store), they request we stay home while the rest of us have to work even if we were standing right next to them. As long as we don’t display symptoms, we are expected to show up or we can request LoA. LoA does not pay us. The only way we as employees will be taken care of is if the store closes AND if we have two weeks of schedules set up. I was hoping the company was on the path to this when they had us cancel all the classes until May and then limited hours but all that went out the window today. Right now Joann is doing everything to prevent us from closing and in turn take care of their employees. Every single time I bring up our well-being, I get reminded that we need to think about the customer first.

-Our store is step up to have daily conference calls to talk about the current status and to express any concerns we have. I brought up the status about my county (our major has declared everyone be shut down as of 5pm tomorrow or the police will be involved) and that I am deeply concerned for us and they told me that we have a responsibility as a leader to keep everyone calm and to keep working through this. ***When I asked what if everyone in my store requests a Leave of Absence because we are all very much concerned about our health, they said, "We will replace you with team members from other stores. There are service industry people and travel workers looking for jobs and we will fill your positions with people who will work it."*** They straight up told me that we are replaceable/expendable because they value their "customers/money." It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been with the company. It all means nothing to them.

-They are sending out emails about what Joann is doing as a whole for Covid-19. Saying we are cleaning every hour and whatnot. What they fail to mention is we are a fabric store with no means of washing fabric. I see people on a daily basis cough into, wipe their snot on, kids place in their mouth, and all sorts of other nasty things into these bolts of fabric (seriously, wash the fabric you buy from Joann before doing anything). We have the basic cleaning supplies to wash floors and wipe counters with but that’s pretty much it. They are telling us as employees to bring in our own supplies if we can. An employee brought in gloves long ago just so we can use them to clean the bathrooms. Today I provided face masks for my fellow coworkers. Our store may look clean but we know its dirty little secrets.

-We are supposed to follow the whole 10 people rule but they do nothing to stop or limit people at the door and won’t do anything to enforce it. All while wanting us to cut hours to which is barely 2 people running the whole store for smaller Joann locations. It’s not safe for us to be on a bare-bones crew especially if they want us to remain an essential store.

-Joann before this was a great place to work. At least for my store. I love my store, I love the people I work with. Other stores I have heard horror stories from but mine was one of the good ones. I see them being bombarded on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram to close. Not just by employees and families of employees but by concerned customers. And this pleases me because they need to take this seriously. What they do in the next 3 days will speak volumes on how much they listen to and care about us. This is a serious issue and we as employees are suffering.

As they report more, I will continue to add to this.

UPDATE 3/21: They emailed and made copies of this for employees to carry with them in their cars:

Now the CEO of Joann is also a piece of work. All you have to do is google his name and you’ll see the Walgreen’s lawsuit, his DUIs (yes, plural), and his impact on Joann since joining - which includes increasing prices because of the tariffs. One employee confirms that when tariff thing went into effect, the entire store was repriced. Some markups were a few cents but some were a few dollars. Since then the prices continue to fluctuate.

There is also a petition going on Change.org asking for Joann to Close Their Stores And Pay Employees

If you get a chance, read some of the comments people are putting in support of this:

I no longer feel safe in my workplace. The greed is sickening.

My employees deserve to be treated like people and make a livable wage and have benefits! Our health over their profit!

Staff at my local store have been asked to bring in their own gloves for cleaning. Hand sanitizer expired in 2012. Employees are reporting little to know cleaning supplies in a store that targets the elderly as a primary demographic. The material used in the masks is not medical grade. This company is shamelessly profiteering from the pandemic.

As a former employee and manager I know the company does not follow any real cleaning guidelines. They understaff their stores, overwork their employees and frown upon time off. Fabrics and crafts are not essential items at this time and since the majority of the clientele there are elderly i think they are creating more risk. Finally do something good for your employees and send gem home with pay

As a previous manager, I'm sad to say that this company does not value its workers. To see that they are putting their workers, and others who visit, at a continued risk is unbelievable and is extremely selfish. Now is the time to act and stop the spread of COVID-19 and to keep Joann's open does not help stop the spread in anyway shape or form.

Over the last two days, my local store decided to carry on with inventory. They brought in an inventory team from the area of our state with the vast majority of cases. It's one thing to not close and continue to expose the public to the risk, but decisions like these show that Jo-Anns has a blatant disregard for the wellbeing of its employees and customers. Even more telling is the fact that we know that you are seeing our pleas to do the right thing, but continue to ignore us on social media. There is only one reason that you are pushing to categorize Jo-Anns as an essential business, and that is greed. In fact, I had to spend my own money on gas to drive all over the city looking for more cleaning supplies after my manager ordered me to. Your employees do so much for you, and we are compensated very little. I have been at Jo-Anns long enough to know that you would never compensate us for our time off, but at least join the other non-essential business and shut down for the time being.

joann’s customer base is primarily elderly or otherwise at risk people, and many employees are also older or immunocompromised. employees are overwhelmed as we can’t keep up with the cleaning guidelines while also taking care of customers, not to mention we’re severely lacking in cleaning supplies in the first place. joann is encouraging people to come in for supplies to make face masks, yet these masks aren’t sterile since people touch and breathe on the fabric all day, and it’s then laid on the counter to be measured and cut. employees themselves aren’t even allowed to wear masks or gloves. joann cares more about profit than the safety of both their team members and customers.

There are so many comments I want to share. These are just a few. This is Joann. They care more about their image and their financial gains than the backbone of their stores. The people who put up with their ridiculous requests day in and day out are now at risk and putting others at risk. Places like Hot Topic closed down and took care of their employees, places like Joanns should too!

But also lets not forget, Hobby Lobby is also not taking Covid-19 seriously.

UPDATE 3/22: “We have signs saying we're cleaning more but found out Friday that we're out of supplies in the distribution center. They claim they will send them out once they receive any but I found out today from a truck driver the company that supplies everything for Joann (from inventory to store use items) is closed for 2 weeks... because of this they're telling us to use the bathroom cleaner as a substitute.”

From Joann Employee Confessions on Twitter:

Confession 17 - Our Joann was closed! We received a C&D from the Chief of Police! We were so ecstatic as employees when they came in and told us to cease all business operations! Not even curbside! BUT then we had to tell our District Manager... and everything changed.

Our DM told us to come back to work tomorrow because he was going to have Joann's lawyers work on it. My heart sank. Them being open was more important. So I went into work and it was so nice not being open to the public. We finally caught up on recovery and cleaning! All things we have neglected the past week because it's been too busy for us to keep up! All of us were in great spirits and it was the best day ever. Until our DM called... and he told us to section off all the "non-essential" parts of the store.

Fabric and sewing notions were deemed essential and we would be open to the public the next day. No curbside only. Nope. People were to come right back in and nothing about limitations. Nothing about cleaning our disgusting fabric. Just to section off half the store so the public could come in and buy all the fabric and sewing supplies they could want. And to add to that... they are doing a remnant promotion where all the spare pieces are free to the customer now! Another thing for our already spare crew to do when we don't have time!

I am honestly so shattered over how the Chief of Police who seemed so interested in our well-being backed out of this. We are exposed once again. 3 of us tonight took Leave of Absence papers tonight because we don't feel safe. This was the final nail in the coffin.

UPDATE - My coworker messaged me, “Got up at 10:00 to get ready for work. A text came in saying the store is closed and I don't have to come to work. Seems there was a conference call. It appears the state is involved and overrode the mayor!” But Joann is still fighting it. This is a day by day thing. They are telling us if we want hours we have to go to another store. If not, we have to put in our leave of absence.