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imagining-supernatural · 4 years

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What Happens in Vegas...

Part 1 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You wake up in Vegas with a brand new wedding ring on your finger next to Sebastian Stan

Word Count: 1641

A/N: I am super excited about this series! And it’s completely written (except maybe an epilogue), so I won’t leave you hanging when writer’s block hits.

What was a Vegas weekend without waking with a major hangover and a random naked guy next to you?

Ideal. That’s what that would be.

Yet, here you were. Hungover as hell. With a naked guy next to you. In your hotel room. So you couldn’t even sneak out.

Not Ideal.

Aw well. This was your last Vegas weekend ever, so you might as well go out with a bang.

The form beside you groaned and shifted until you could see his face.

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed, prompting him to squint at you, slowly waking up. It didn’t take long for his blue eyes to open. Eyes you’d only seen on the big screen. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?”

“Who are you?” He shot back, voice still scratchy with slumber.

“This is my hotel room so I think my question should get answered first.” Sitting up, you pulled the sheet up to your chin. It was pretty obvious what had happened last night, but if he was even half as drunk as you had been, he wouldn’t remember. So… there was no need to flash your assets.

Sebastian Stan – yes, the Sebastian Stan – looked around for a moment before his thoughts were gathered enough. “I… don’t remember. I mean, I think I remember you from a club? But the rest of the night is blurry.”

“Yeah. I’m dealing with a lot of different kinds of headaches right now.” As soon as he left, you were going to dig out your medication and down a pill or two. You must have forgotten to take your pills last night.

His eyes widened when he looked at your hands holding the sheet up to cover your body. “You’re married? Fuck, how did I not notice that last night. I—shit.”

“Married? I’m sure as shit not—” Now it was your turn to ogle the giant ring on your left hand. “Wait a goddamn minute.”

The look of disbelief he was giving you sent your mind into hyper drive. “You’re saying that we…”

“Not necessarily. I mean, maybe it’s just a ring, you know? Maybe, shit I don’t know. Maybe it’s fake and we won it from one of those machines where you put a quarter in and twist the knob and you get a toy, you know?” By this point, you weren’t talking to Sebastian anymore. You were muttering to yourself, trying to calm the fuck down. And, for the record, when you tapped the diamond you knew it definitely wasn’t plastic. There was still the hope it was fake. Glass or something…

“And even if we did have a ceremony, that doesn’t mean it’s legal, right? Like, there have to be documents filed with the state and shit. I feel like I would have remembered that. But if we did file those, we’re in Vegas! The town that probably processes more annulments than any other city. It can’t be that hard. We’ll sign some papers at the courthouse and bam! No more marriage, no legal financial obligations when I die. I mean, this isn’t how I expected to end my weekend, but whatever, it’s an adventure. Something to tell my fri—”

“What do you mean, when you die?” he interrupted, latching onto the one part of your blabbing that you definitely hadn’t meant to say aloud. “You got plans to get in an accident or something?”

You could see the worry in his eyes and it took you a second to process what was beneath his question. “Oh, no. No, I’m not gonna kill myself. Don’t worry about that.”

“So what did you mean?”

How much to tell him? As a stranger, you didn’t owe him anything. But he was your husband, maybe. At the very least, you were both naked in the same bed. And anyway, what could it hurt? Telling him the truth wouldn’t change your prognosis and it might light a fire under his ass to figure out how to cut all ties with you.

“I’m not planning on killing myself, or anything. But my body seems to be doing a great job on its own. I have cancer, can’t afford treatment, and this weekend was my last weekend to cut loose before getting my affairs in order, you know?” Hopefully he would let that all slide. Not question further. “But that’s not your problem. We need to focus on figuring out if we really did get married, and if so how to—”

“Won’t your health insurance cover treatment?”

His well-intentioned question startled a bitter laugh from you. You relaxed back into the pillows, starting to say more than you needed to. “Yeah, sure. It already covered the chemo and radiation I went through. Those didn’t help enough. And I can’t afford to cut my hours back again at work. If I do, corporate will shunt me down to part time and take away my benefits. Ain’t that the American Dream?”

Shaking your head, you determined that it was time to get away from your sob story.

“Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I can, uh, get dressed and poke around a bit to figure out how to see if we really are married. It can’t be that hard. I mean, how many accidental, drunken, Vegas weddings do you think happen here? There’s probably a website somewhere called, like, help-i-woke-up-married-to-a-stranger.com or something.”

That stupid joke rewarded you with a half-smile on Sebastian’s face. “By the way, wife, what’s your name?”

“Y/N. And,” you shrugged, “I already know yours.”

“Yeah?”

“How could I not? You’re in the fucking Marvel Cult.”

“Cult?”

You grinned. “What else would you call it?”

After a soft chuckle, he leaned back against the headboard, sheets pooling around his waist and you tried extra hard to keep your eyes on his face. “Cult’s a good word actually. All the secrecy.”

“Y’all got so many devotees, man. Like, if all of you sent out a tweet that said something about taking over the world, it would be yours.”

“You one?” At your eyebrow raise, he clarified. “A devotee?”

“Ha, no. A fan, sure. I’m far too lazy to get in a cult. While y’all storm the capital, or something, I’d be at home watching YouTube videos of Kelly Clarkson singing while I’m eating chips and salsa.”

“Kelly Clarkson?”

At his question, you got defensive. “She’s a goddess.”

“Kelly Clarkson devotee?”

“I—” you stopped to consider that before tilting your head. “I suppose so. But only because she wouldn’t want to take over the world. She’d tweet something like Everyone come over to drink wine and chat and I’d be there in a heartbeat.”

He grinned and you found yourself wishing this was real. That this really was the morning after your wedding to a handsome man.

But that wasn’t your life.

“Never thought I’d marry a Kelly Clarkson Devotee.”

“Not to, uh, cut this marriage short, but I have to be on a flight tomorrow morning. So we should probably get on with figuring shit out today. Get that annulment if we’re actually married.”

A playful frown toyed with his lips. “You’re divorcing me because I made fun of you for being in the Clarkson Cult?”

“Yes,” you played along. “I’m sorry, Sebastian, but I just can’t stay with someone who doesn’t share my absolute love and adoration of KC. If I’d have known this last night, I would have definitely left you at the altar.”

Briefly, you caught sight of a shy smile before he turned his head away. “So, uh, you mind if I grab a shower?”

“Not at all. I’ll start researching,” you motioned to your laptop that was laying over on the desk.

After he nodded, he started looking around the room. It took you a minute to remember that you were both naked. Though it shocked you that he would be as shy about his nudity as you were, you didn’t point it out. Instead, you pointed to your travel blanket that was draped over a chair within his reach. With a grateful nod, he grabbed it and secured it around his waist as he stood.

As he walked over to the bathroom, you found yourself staring at a wrinkle in the sheets, letting your brain start shutting down just enough to process the whirlwind of the last few minutes.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You glanced up.

“I, uh, I just… Look. With my job I just wanted to ask that you not share anything on, you know... Twitter or anything.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t. No one would believe me even if I did.” You offered him a reassuring smile. “I don’t really know what it’s like to be in the public eye, not like you are, anyway, but I’m sure it’s not all glitz and glam.”

With a nod of thanks, he disappeared into the bathroom.

That brought up a whole new side of worry. If you were married and did need to get the annulment, how would you keep it from getting out? You needed to make sure all of this stayed out of the press. You couldn’t let your reputation tarnish his. Not when you were going to die and leave him to deal with your bullshit.

As soon as the shower started, you darted across the room to quickly pull on some clothes. Once you were no longer naked, you dug out your medication and popped a pill, knowing you’d definitely need it to keep up your strength. Hopefully it would also work some sort of wonder on your hangover headache as well.

Once you swallowed your medicine, you grabbed your laptop, only to have a paper fall to the ground. You bent down to see what it was and stopped cold at the calligraphy written across the top:

MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE

PART 2: THE FIRST DATE

#sebastianxreader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

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deathtouch · 5 years

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💛 femfeb day 14 | my femfeb masterpost 🧡 xposted → ao3 | dw | pf.io 💖 D.Va/Moira | 3672 | Explicit 🧡 Alternate Universe, Mafia Au, Sugar Mommy, Valentine's Day, Sex Toys, Vibrators, Oral Sex, Gunshot Wounds, Blood, Surgery, Morning After 💛 Mob doctor Moira and her sugarbaby Hana spend Valentine's Day together. Surely nothing will interrupt them.

“I got you something, darling,” Moira said over the rim of her champagne glass. Something other than reservations at the nicest restaurant in the city on Valentine’s Day. That was an impressive gift in-and-of itself considering how exclusive this place was, but Moira had more than just dinner planned for tonight. Hana sat up, brightening a little. “You did?” They were sitting so close that even in the romantic mood lighting of the restaurant Moira could see the flecks of glitter in Hana’s lip gloss, and the soft barely-there freckles that spread across her nose and cheeks. She was always done up so beautifully, make-up perfect in every way. From the fine points of her eyeliner to the dusting of iridescent powder high on her cheekbones. She never covered up her freckles, though. Those she wore proudly for everyone to see. Her freckles, and the red and purple bruises that stretched the length of her neck. Marks from Moira’s lips and teeth, some old and healing and others fresh and new. Smirking, Moira set her champagne glass aside. She reached a long-fingered hand beneath the folds of her vest to find the jewelry box hidden in her breast pocket. She pulled it out and slid it across the table. Hana was already attentive, and she only grew more excited as her gift was presented to her. She didn’t hesitate to reach out and pluck the cardboard lid right off box. She gasped when she saw the bracelet inside. It was white gold with small, heart shaped charms dangling from the chain. White and pink diamonds were embedded on each charm. It glinted brilliantly in the candle light of the table. “Oh, Moira!” She breathed, eyes sparkling. “It’s so cute! Put it on me, please!” Hana thrust her bare wrist forward, waiting for it to be adorned. Moira happily clasped the bracelet into place. When she was done, she watched as Hana held her hand up in front of her, admiring the look of gold and diamonds on her skin. “I’m never going to take it off!” She insisted. She might not. Moira had given her a pink sapphire tennis necklace for Christmas, and it hadn’t left her neck in the two months since. It offset the live bites on her skin magnificently. Now enraptured with her new present and the way it looked, Hana pushed her menu aside in order to inspect the charms with more interest. “Will you order for me, mommy?” She asked sweetly. “Of course, my love,” Moira agreed. “Anything for you.” .oOo. .oOo. .oOo. Hana kicked her shoes off at the door, a glittering pair of heels that Moira had gifted her a while back. Not for any particular holiday or celebration, just because Hana deserved nice things and looked great in a pair of pumps. She and went hurrying over to the floor to ceiling balcony window, ready to catch the last rays of golden light before the sun set entirely. She held her hand aloft and snapped pictures on her phone of the bracelet glittering in the sunlight. Moira watched from the foyer where she neatly hung up her jacket and scarf on the back of the door. Then she picked up Hana’s coat where she’d shed it and left it sitting on the floor to hang that up too. It seemed like just yesterday when Hana had come over for the first time. She had stared wide eyes at the massive penthouse, eyeing the marble countertops in the kitchen and massive smart TV in the living room with awe. Now this place was a second home to her, and she treated it as such. “The bedroom's this way, darling,” Moira told her, coming to stand in the hallway. “I’m coming!” Hana called out to her. No, not yet you’re not. But you will be, she thought. “I just want to show everyone the new gift you got me!” Everyone being the hundreds of thousands of Instagram followers she had. Inexplicably, Instagram was where she was least popular online. Her twitter, YouTube, and twitch accounts had many more followers. Why anyone would want to willingly sit around and watch someone else play video games, Moira had no idea. Hana mostly played games at her own apartment, but the spare bedroom was all decked out for her here. A gaming computer and all the relevant accessories, a dozen different consoles, a bookshelf full of games, everything she might need to live stream. Sometimes Hana decided she wanted to set up a gaming console in the living room to play StarCraft and Halo on the massive TV mounted on the wall. Moira didn’t mind that, and sometimes she even sat with Hana while she played, but always while doing something else. Reading, researching, working on something. The whole “Let’s Play” concept was incomprehensible to her. She was happy that Hana had a delightful hobby that apparently made her money, but she wasn’t going to pretend to understand it. “Come get in a picture with me,” Hana insisted. Moira knew better than to say ‘no’. She’d lost that battle enough times before. She crossed the living room, padding across the plush carpet, to join Hana by the balcony door. Moira wrapped her arms around her from behind and bent down low to press a kiss to her bare neck. The picture she took mostly consisted of Hana’s smiling face basking in the sunset light and the gingery crown of Moira’s hair. Hana hummed happily, mumbling about how cute they were together. The all-important process of choosing sticker emojis, the perfect filter, and an appropriate caption began. Moira had since learned that this could be a lengthy process. She made herself busy kissing new bruises into Hana’s neck and shoulder, suckling sweetly, nosing up behind her ear and into her soft brown hair. Hana ignored her completely… up until teeth sank into her skin, not breaking it but certainly sharp and hard enough to add a little pain to all this pleasure. Hana gasped and leaned into it. Her head fell back, and her eyes closed. Her hands fell to her sides and then her phone slipped straight from her fingers, thumping down to the carpet where it lay abandoned on the floor. .oOo. .oOo. .oOo. “Please, please, please-!” Hana’s sweet voice was a frantic whisper, high in pitch and raspy with desperation. “Please! Please let me come,” she begged. Moira smirked from her vantage point between Hana’s spread legs. She was teasing her with the final Valentine’s Day gift Moira had bought, a bright pink vibrator. Its incessant buzzing filled the room, second only to Hana’s heavy panting. Her whole body was a stiff knot, muscles tense all over. Her hands were fists in the sheets, her toes were curled in tight. Her poor thighs were trembling, shaking with the effort of staying taut for so long. Moira teased the head of the toy against Hana’s sensitive clit, rubbing it in circles, coaxing out more whimpering pleas for release. Hana’s breath caught, hitched in her chest. Her shoulder blades dug into the mattress and she rose off the bed inch by inch. She was close. So close. Just a few more seconds and she would be coming, but instead Moira pulled the toy away, stripping Hana of the pleasure she’d been enjoying. She collapsed back on the mattress with a loud sob. There were real tears in her eyes this time. She looked at Moira as if she’d been betrayed, bottom lip trembling as the frustration filled the gaps were excitement and pleasure had been before. “Please,” She begged, voice breaking. “Please, mommy, I can’t take anymore.” Something about that sentence thrilled Moira to the core, a bolt went right through her strait to her groin. It had been long enough, almost an hour that they’d been going at this. She supposed she could finally give in and give Hana what she wanted. Moira tossed the vibrator aside and dove in. It bounced once before rolling right off the bed and onto the floor where it buzzed away on the carpet. Moira buried her face between Hana’s thighs and used her tongue instead. Toys were all well and good but there was nothing quite like the feel of another human being, alive and real. Hana was so close already that all it took were a few circles of Moira’s tongue to send her spilling over the edge. She shook as she came, crying out loudly. It was like music to Moira’s ears. She hummed happily as she kept licking, cleaning up all the slick juices that her tongue found. When Hana was too sensitive for any more, Moira pulled away. She was loathe to leave the bed but someone had to turn off the vibrator. Once that was finished, the toy no longer turned on and buzzing, she climbed back onto the mattress. Hana was still catching her breath, sweat drying on her skin, hair a mess from all the squirming against the pillows she had been doing. Moira happily caged her in her arms, cuddling her close. Hana turned to face her, pressing her cheek to Moira’s bare chest. “Thanks for all the Valentine’s Day gifts, mommy.” She said, sounding as exhausted as she looked. “Anything for you, my dear,” Moira murmured, kissing the top of Hana’s head. .oOo. .oOo. .oOo. Moira sat straight up in bed, ripped from her dreamless sleep. She stared out at her dark bedroom. She could feel Hana still asleep beside her, breath even and deep. She glanced at the clock, squinting at the LED lights that told her it was nearly three AM. What in the hell had woken her up? A sudden pounding at the door made her jump, three loud bangs. Goddamnit. Moira threw the duvet off and rushed out of bed, determined to get the door before whoever was behind it knocked again. She had a pretty good idea of who it was. No one else would dare wake her up at this hour. Not unless it was life or death… She closed her bedroom door as quietly as possible and hurried down the hall, switching the light on as she went. She rushed to the front door, threw back the chain, and yanked open the door before the entire floor was woken up by the loud knocking. Jesse McCree was standing there in front of her, bleeding profusely down his front. Gabriel Reyes was standing behind him, barely managing to keep him up on his feet. “What the hell do you th-” “Jesse’s been shot.” Gabriel interrupted. “Why in God’s name did you bring him here?” Moira snapped, stumbling out of the way as Gabe shoved Jesse past her. She winced as she saw they were headed for the kitchen. “No, the living room.” She had no interest in cooking food where Jesse McCree had bled out on her counter or in scouring viscera from the grout between her tiles. Just as Moira went to close her apartment door a shadow came sneaking through. Genji. “You,” Moira pointed at him. “The third door down the hall, grab the med kit under the sink. Bring it out here.” Genji flashed a dangerous glance her direction and it seemed for a second there he was going to dispute her giving him orders… and then he disappeared down the hallway, quick and quiet. In the living room, Gabriel was levering Jesse down on to the couch. Well, that was ruined. Her carpet was done for too, dark red stains trailing from here to the door. Jesse was groaning pathetically, writhing, cursing under his breath. “You have to shut him up,” Moira warned. She had neighbors for Christ’s sake. Hell, she had a guess in the bedroom! She couldn’t believe this. This was the absolute worst possible place they could have brought him. What the hell was he thinking? Moira would have met them anywhere in the city! “Quiet down, McCree,” Gabriel said darkly. Like that was going to help. Moira gasped in exasperated frustration and knelt down beside the couch, settling back on her heels. Jesse’s shirt was already a lost cause, drenched with blood and shredded in places. She tore it open, revealing the wound underneath. A gut shot, what a nightmare. By the looks of the damage he’d been shot in the back and this was the exit wound. It didn’t seem like his spine, liver, or bladder were injured but his intestines were a mess. Genji returned with the med kit. It was less of a first aid kit and more of home surgery kit. Not the finest of tools but enough to get the job done. She took it from him and hurried to crack it open, pulling out a pair of latex gloves first. “Go to the kitchen,” She told Genji. “Bring me dish towels and water.” He disappeared again. “I’m fuckin dying,” Jesse moaned, the first sensible words he’d managed between all his pained groaning. “I can’t have him screaming,” Moira said, flashing Gabriel a look. Wordlessly, Gabriel sighed went to undo his belt. It was thick black nylon, tactical in nature. He folded it half and then in half again before feeding it into Jesse’s mouth. Jesse whimpered but accepted the bit readily. Genji returned with bottles of water and towels. Moira took them from him and thrust a packet of powdered sulfa at him in exchange before returning to the med kit for more supplies. He stared at it dumbly. “What happened?” Moira asked, taking out a vial of morphine and a hypodermic needle. “Akande stiffed us,” Gabriel told her grimly. He plucked the packet from Genji’s hands and tore it open, sprinkling it into Jesse’s open wound. Moira raised an eyebrow. “By how much?” “...forty thousand.” She whistled low and went to jab the needle into the crook of Jesse’s arm. She pushed the plunger, flushing pain killers into his veins. “I told you not to go into business with Talon. Hold him down.” Gabriel grabbed at Jesse’s shoulders, pinning him to the cushions. Genji held on to his ankles. Jesse started breathing heavily in anticipation of what was to come. Gabriel was clearly incensed, talking through clenched teeth. “I let them move weight on our turf,” for a nominal fee, of course, “and this is how they thank us? Not paying up? Drawing guns? If Akande wants a war, he’s got it.” Oh good, that should keep Moira plenty busy. She rose up onto her knees and set to work. The drugs hadn’t fully kicked in yet, but she didn’t have time to waste. She mopped up some of the blood with a towel and that set Jesse off moaning again, twisting, writhing in pain. As soon as she dug in with surgical tools to start tying off bleeding blood vessels he screamed. His muscles jerked, seized, and convulsed with pain before he promptly passed out. Ah, well. That was probably for the best. “Moira?” All three conscious people in the living room looked to the hall where Hana had come wandering out of the bedroom. She was groggy from sleep, wearing only a pair of pink panties and one of Moira’s dress shirts half unbuttoned. The wide collar hung off one of her shoulders and the sleeves were much too long for her. “What’s going on?” She asked sleepily. “Nothing, darling,” Moira said despite the blood and the screams and the strange men in her home. “Go back to bed. I’ll be there in just a moment.” Hana looked at them, looked at all of their faces individually, and then turned to walk back the way she came. Moira cursed under her breath and set back to work patching up Jesse’s insides. “Is she going to be a problem?” Gabriel asked darkly. “Good lord, Gabriel. No.” Moira snapped at him. Hana was a good girl. She knew when to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t need to be handled or taken care of or anything like that. God help Gabriel Reyes if he should try to harm a hair on her head. Moira would do anything for Hana. Anything. .oOo. .oOo. .oOo. ��I’ll call the Junkers to clean up the mess,” Gabriel said, gesturing vaguely to the living room. Moira made a face. The very last thing she wanted was that rat and his big friend to know where she lived, but they were a necessity of the job. It was good to have professionals to deal with this kind of thing. A blood-stained couch and carpet were suspicious at best. It was best to let the Junkers deal with them the way they dealt with things. “Fine.” She nodded. Gabriel produced one of many bankrolls he had on his person and handed it over. Moira didn’t need to count it. It was ten thousand, her standard fee for any type of surgery. If he was this furious about being stiffed, there was no way he would dare stiff her in return. She tucked the money away into her pocket. “Who, pray tell, is going to pay for new furniture.” Moira asked pointedly. Gabriel sighed heavily and pulled out another roll of cash. He counted out another thousand dollars for her in hundreds. “...and the carpet?” It would need to be replaced. He gave her a look but added another ten bills to the stack before passing it over. “Don’t bring him here next time he gets shot, it’ll be cheaper for you.” She shrugged and put the money in her pocket with the rest. Genji came to join them in the doorway, dragging a heavily medicated Jesse McCree along with him. Moira had done the best she could. Cleaned out as much of the wound as possible, stitched his intestines back together, supplied him with Ancef to keep infection at bay, and gave them all very clear and concise instructions on what to do if he took a turn for the worse in the next few days. “We’ll call you if we need you,” Gabriel said as he went to shoulder Jesse’s other arm and help lift some of his dead weight. Moira narrowly resisted telling him ‘please don’t’. Instead she nodded and smiled. “Of course.” With that they left, taking their chaos and strife along with them. Moira sighed deeply and stood in the foyer for a long moment. She stared at the blood in her living room. She prayed Hana wouldn’t wake up or emerge from the bedroom until the Junkers came through and cleared everything out. She went to clean up some of the mess. She left the blood-soaked towels and latex gloves on the couch for the Junkers to take with them. She gathered her tools and carried them off to the guest bathroom to sanitize and clean them. In the bathroom she found blood caked up her arms. There were stains on her shirt in several places. Somehow it had even ended up on her neck. She stuck her hands under the faucet and scrubbed her arms clean, watching as the water ran from red to pink to clear. She looked up, caught sight of her own eyes in the mirror, and stared hard. .oOo. .oOo. .oOo. Hana shuffled into the hallway, rubbing her eyes. She paused to look over her shoulder at the blank space where the couch had been, and the exposed floorboards where the carpet had been ripped out. After a moment she shrugged and continued into the kitchen. “Morning, mommy,” She said sweetly. “Good morning, darling,” Moira greeted her. “Come, sit down, I’ll cook you breakfast.” Yawning, she went to sit at the island in the middle of the kitchen. She had her phone in hand and went about catching up on all the comments, likes, messages, posts, and tweets that had been posted while she was sleeping. She was happy to sit quietly and read while Moira went to work making French toast. “Hey, did that guy live?” Hana asked after a while. Moira, who had been cutting strawberries, went still. “..What?” “That guy, last night, did he live?” She went to put top the freshly cooked French toast off with strawberry slices and powdered sugar. “Yes. He lived.” She plated it and brought it over to Hana, setting it in front of her. “You know, I always thought Doctor O’Deorain meant you had, like, a PHD. I didn’t realize you were a doctor doctor. That’s kind of hot. We could totally use that in the bedroom sometime-” “Hana,” Moira laid a hand on her arm, stopping her from picking up the silverware. “Can I trust you not to mention anything you saw last night?” She asked, voice dipping low with seriousness. Hana’s eyebrows went up. She seemed to think about this for a second before she slowly nodded in acquiescence. “I mean… I didn’t really see anything,” She said. “I was mostly asleep anyway.” A flash of relief rushed through Moira. She leaned in to press a kiss to Hana’s temple. She knew she could trust her, but it felt good to be proven right. “Good, enjoy your breakfast, my love.” Hana picked up her fork and raked it over the syrup and sugar contemplatively. “Hey, uhm, do you think you could help me out with my student loan this month?” She asked carefully. Moira knew exactly what she was doing. If she was being honest, she didn’t mind. It wasn’t hush money, exactly. Moira would pay for anything Hana wanted, whether she had witnessed any illegal and illicit activities or not. She took out the cash Gabriel had supplied her with earlier that morning and counted out three hundred dollars, enough to cover Hana’s loans. “...and rent.” Hana added, pushing her luck. Moira smirked and counted our six more bills. She had paid Hana’s rent enough times by now to know how much it cost. She added an extra two hundred, a little spending money for luck, and handed it over. Hana smiled warmly. “Thank you, mommy!” “Anything for you, darling.” Anything.

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#femslash february #overwatch femslash #moira/d.va #moira o'deorain #d.va #fanfic #femfeb #femfeb2019

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