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#and yesterday we got some and they had half of it and i can back from school and was like oh nice can i have watermelon tomorrow for school

polly-pocket13 · 15 hours

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pretty glittery girly movie

paring: katsuki bakugou x reader warnings: cursing, bad gramma a/n: please enjoy it

“Why is she here?,” Bakugou asked his friend Kirishima.

He replied, “She is here because I invited her.”

““She” has a name and “she” can speak for herself.”, you said annoyed.

Bakugou responded with a “Tsk”.

“Kacchan, be kind to Y/N. When Y/N and I spoke yesterday, she mentioned that she was interested in seeing the movie we had in mind for today. So I invited her to watch the movie with us.”, Kirishima explained to Bakugou.

You couldn't speak for yourself again. You were aware that Kirishima was just trying to be kind, but you hate when someone talks for you.

“We're watching a horror film and not some pretty glittery girly movie, you know.” Bakugou told you.

You said angrily, “I know we're watching a scary movie, Jerk.”

“Jerk? This all you got? This is cute, little wallflower.”, he spoked and smiled for a brief moment.

He can't be serious right now.

Why is he like that?

Why does he always have to bully me?

But did he smile before?

Jesus.

Smiling makes him even more handsome.

“Kacchan, I told you to be kind. Y/N is my friend. Let's go inside the movie should start soon.” Kirishima said.

We went in and bought tickets and snacks. Kirishima suddenly received a call and went outside. “Are you coming with me to the hall, or will you wait for Kirishima?” you asked Bakugou. “I wait.” he replied short. You simply nod, walk in the hall and sit down.

Bakugou walked in just before the movie started, and sat next to you. You asked him, “Where is Kirishima?”

“Private Emergency. He went to his mom to help her with something.” he answered you.

Amazing.

Now you're watching a movie with Bakugou alone.

This is going to be quite something.

You exhaled deeply.

The movie began, and you focused your attention on the cinema screen.

After a half hour and at least 5 jump scares, you were scared as hell.

As a reflex, you grabbed Bakugous Hand and simply squished.

After recognizing your actions, you attempted to remove your hand; however, you were unable to do so because Bokugou held on to your hand.

He came closer to your ear and whispered, “I told you this not a pretty glittery girly movie. But I can protect you if you ask me nicely”.

You shook his hand away. “I know that this is a horror movie. I am not scared, and I don't need your protection.” you whispered back and focused your eyes on the screen again.

Thank god he didn't see how you blushed.

You really tried to watch the movie without making any signs that you are freaking out because you are so scared. Nevertheless, he noticed.

Bakugou raised the armrest between your seats and put his arm around you. He pulled you closer to him.

Before you could move away from him, a pretty bad jump scare was shown, and you hid your face behind his shoulder.

You could smell his scent, he has an incredible one.

“Thank you.”, you mumbled.

“Your welcome, stubborn wallflower.” he whispered.

You were snuggled against him until the movie end.

After the movie, you walked out and there was awkward silence. Your cheeks were still blushed. You cleared your throat and said, “Thank you for keeping me safe from those scary nuns.”

“Like I said before, you're welcome. But you should make it up to me.” he told you.

“Make it up? How should I make it up?” you asked confused.

He looked in your eyes as he said, “Go on a date with me.”

Your heart began to beat faster, and you blushed even more.

“Well, I guess I can't say no” you told him with a smile.

He smirked and said, “No. No, you can't.”

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surftrips · 5 months

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CROSS YOUR HEART AND HOPE TO DIE

pairing: young coriolanus snow x reader

word count: 600+

summary: based on "follow you" by bring me the horizon. young/slightly ooc coriolanus snow finds comfort in y/n's arms.

a/n: yeah, i can't believe i'm returing from my hiatus with a coriolanus snow x reader fic, but here we are. please feel free to send in prompts/requests with him though ;)

"Because I don't want to fucking hurt you.” Coriolanus snapped. "God, half the time, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."

Your boyfriend was having a hard time lately. The anniversary of his father's death was creeping up and you knew he was having those thoughts again.

He had confided in you early on in your relationship his two biggest fears: losing you, and turning into his father. Now, he was spiraling with thoughts of both happening.

"Talk to me," you said, trying to reassure him. The two of you were by the lake, entangled in each other's arms on a blanket.

"I- I just..." he was trying to catch his breath. "I'm so angry all the time and you, you're an angel. You've never done anything wrong in your life. I don't deserve you, I don't know how to not fuck this up."

You couldn't help but smile at his name for you, reaching out to caress his cheek. He leaned into your familiar touch, one of the few things that could calm him down when he was like this.

It was true, he did get mad at the smallest things. Just last week, he got jealous of Sejanus for holding up your skirt as you went down the stairs, even though the two of you were clearly just friends.

And yesterday, he was frustrated with something that happened during training and came back to the cabin furious. You had asked him how his day was, like usual, and he had snapped at you.

"It was bad. Do you have to ask me that everyday?" he retorted, knocking over the items on the shelf closest to him.

But even though he got jealous or angry sometimes, you knew that he was working on it. He always felt awful afterward, and always made sure that you knew how sorry he was. That night, he had drawn a bath for you and even added some wild lavender he found near the water.

"Hey, you know I love you, right?" you said.

He sat up slightly to make better eye contact with you, "I do. But what if that's not enough?"

You frowned, "My love isn't?"

"No, no. I meant what if love, in general, is not enough? What if that's not enough to change my fate? Y/N, you know about my father, he was awful."

"I know, Coryo," you sighed. "But I also know you, and you're a good person. You love me, you love the Covey. You care about me, and your family. You want to be good, and I think that is enough."

Still, he didn't seem convinced. "I hate that I can barely remember him anymore, but he's still haunting me. The rebels that killed him haunt me. What if that happens to me?"

"Stop. No one here is going to do that, they know you're on our side. Don't you see? You're trying so hard to not be like your father, but you don't have to try to be good. You just are, deep-down in here," you pointed to where his heart is. "You are."

He leaned down now to pull you into a kiss. "Angel, can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"Promise me you'll never leave my side."

"Coryo, you could drag me through hell if it meant I could hold your hand. I will follow you to the ends of the earth. We're in this together."

That seemed to please him, finally. He wrapped his arms tighter around you and pulled you to lay back down with him. The two of you stared up at the stars, each silently wishing for this to work out.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus x reader

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silicon-puppy-pudding · 6 months

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Can Fright Knight x Batman be a thing? Is it already a thing? I just saw this post where Frighty is acting as Danny's dad and I just want something with Fredric Knight meeting Bruce like..

Bruce is happy Daimian is making friends. This new kid, Daniel "call me Danny" Knight, seems nice. Kid might be a meta or something, with the way his eyes reflect like a cats and how he seems to always be cold, but he doesn't seem to be a bad kid and his background seemed to check out.

Yesterday Damian had invited Danny over for a sleepover and Bruce was stoked. Dami is having a friend over! A civilian friend! This is so normal and great! Danny had said his father would be picking him up the next day and would show up on his motorcycle (which was apparently named Nightmare?)

Bruce is in the sitting room close to the entrance when Alfred goes to buzz the gate for Danny's father. After a few minutes, he can hear Alfred walking the man in and explaining that "young Master Damian will be down with young Daniel in a few minutes. Till then, maybe you'd like to speak with Master Bruce?"

Bruce almost falls out of his seat when this almost 7 foot tall hunk of a man walks in, with his long raven black hair with a streak of gray down the center, all pulled back into a low ponytail. His bright green eyes have that same, almost glowing, shine that Danny's have and he's got a neat bit of stubble on his sharp jaw. He holds himself tall and seems to scan the room before setting his gaze on Bruce, who is using all his will to not ogle at this gorgeous man in front of him.

He stands to greet him and, oh God, he may actually be 7ft. "You must be Danny's dad, right?" He offers his hand to shake, "Bruce Wayne. I'm happy to see my son making friends with such a nice kid."

The behemoth of a man stares at his hand for just a moment to long before he shakes it and introduces himself, "Fredric Knight. I'm also glad my son is making friends." He says with the hint of a smile, "He's been a bit reclusive since we came here and I don't believe that's been healthy for him."

The two fathers talk for a bit, Bruce doing his best to be Batman ever now and then to make sure this guy isn't a potential threat. After some time, Danny and Damien walk into the room with Danny's bags, "Hey Dad, hi Mr. Bruce. Sorry that took so long," he says as he walks over to Fred (Bruce was told he could call him that) and half hugs the man, "Dami has a snake and he let me feed her!" Fred looks down at his son and pats his head, "That sounds interesting, little prince. Was it a frightful creature?"

As father and son speak, Bruce notes how fond Fred seems of Danny. The 'little prince' name seemed cute and pretty fitting with the last name. He also notes how Fred seemed to relax just a bit the moment Danny walked into the room (the same way he would after his children returned from patrol safe and unharmed), huh.

They say their goodbyes and the father-son duo are escorted out. Bruce and Damien watch as they ride down the driveway, Danny doing his best to wave at them from between his father's arms.

"We should invite the both of them over for dinner." Bruce says with a hand on his son's shoulder, "Fred seems like an interesting character, don't you think?"

"Father,"

"Yes Damian?"

"Please do not seduce my friends father."

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #fic prompt #dcxdp #Bruce deserves a big hunky man that isn't currently in a relationship #Dami isn't having this shit #Bruce is trying to be suspicious but mans is hot #fright night #Fright Knight x Batman #Fredric Knight x Bruce Wayne???#Danny would honestly think its kinda funny that Frighty doesn't realize he's seducing Bruce #Frighty is just trying to be a good human dad #Human dads talk about their kids and hobbies right?#dinner is a normal human activity that friends and family partake in right??#is this Bruce character his friend now??#Frighty: I've make an adult friend like you said i should #Danny: i don't think you understand what a crush looks like #Frighty: Crush? Am i meant to destroy something in the name of friendship??#Danny trying not to lose it: 🤭 no dad please don't 🤣

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triptuckers · 4 months

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on the bottom of the lake - percy jackson

Request: yes! "I love ur writing!! could you write something w Percy helping anxious reader?? I’ve been super stressed lately and idk this show is keeping me sane lmao" Pairing: Percy Jackson x reader Summary: you've been stressed and percy knows the perfect way to help you relax Warnings: reader being stressed, some swearing, anxiety Word count: 917 A/N: I drew so many pjo characters yesterday I cant wait to share them when I'm done with them :) thanks for your request, enjoy!

you don't know if you've ever felt like this. sure, you'd been stressed before. but now you're losing sleep over it. and not a few hours, just nights without zero sleep at all.

you've got a big project you need to do for school over the summer. if you call, it'll be your last strike and you'd be expelled. like it was your fault you had trouble reading and concentrating.

when you arrived at camp half-blood at the start of summer, you thought some of your worries would go away.

the opposite happened.

you saw everyone around you having a good time. they didn't have to worry about some project. they slept peacefully from night til morning.

even if you can't work on your project, you're constantly thinking about it. your mind never rests.

percy noticed you've been stressed and tries to talk to you about it, but you always shut him down. it's enough to think about it all the time, let alone talk about it.

after a couple of days, percy tries again. he really wants to help you, but he don't know why.

'hey, y/n?' says percy.

'what's up?' you say, looking up at him. you're supposed to help your cabin prepare for tonight's bonfire, but so far you're not helping much.

'about your project-'

'gods, will you leave it alone, percy!' you burst out. 'I think about that fucking project all day don't you start about it as well!'

percy takes a step back and you realise it's because of you.

'I'm sorry! sorry!' you say, getting up and grabbing one of his hands. 'I'm so sorry I didn't mean it.'

you feel tears slowly starting to fall.

'hey, it's okay.' says percy softly. he reaches up and brushes a tear from your cheek. 'want to go to the lake for a while?'

you nod. percy leads you to the lake. you close your eyes and let the breeze calm you down. but still the project is on your mind. if you go to your cabin now, you could get some work done.

percy tugs on your hand and you open your eyes to look at him.

'get in.' he says, nodding his head toward the lake.

'now?'

percy nods.

'percy, I don't want to go swimming right now.'

'do you trust me?'

'of course.'

'then get in.'

you sigh. what did you have to lose? maybe a swim would be nice.

'let me get my bathing suit.' you say.

'nope.' says percy, pulling you by your hand as he jumps in the lake. before you can stop him, you're pulled forward by his momentum. seconds later, the water surrounds you.

you want to yell at him for getting your clothes soaked, but you remember you're under water. once you get your bearings, you open your eyes, letting them get accustomed to the water.

you try to swim to the surface, but percy still holds on to your hand and pulls you further down, all the way to the bottom of the lake.

good for him, he's a poseidon kid. you aren't. you can't breathe underwater. surely percy knows that right?

he lets go of you hands and swims to the bottom of the lake.

you're going to have to go up for air soon.

you can see percy sitting down on the ocean floor, gesturing at you to join him. you squint your eyes. it looks like the water is less murky down there.

you let yourself sink down to percy's level. the water is less murky here because there is no water here.

'I didn't know you could do this.' you say, looking around the air bubble you're in.

'pretty cool, right?' says percy, smiling proudly.

'why are we here?'

'I mostly come here when I need to be alone. if you sit here in silence for a while, the fish will come up to you. and I always thought the waves are soothing to look at from down here.'

you look up and watch the waves for a while. sunlight pours through the water, giving it a soft glow.

you move closer to percy and rest your head on his shoulder.

the two of you sit there for a while. and percy was right. after some time, fish start to swim around your bubble.

percy tells you about the lake and the animals and after a while even two water nymphs come to say hello. percy knows them and introduces you to them.

you sit there for so long you lose track of time. it's getting late, so you decide to swim up to the surface.

normally you would have been soaked, but thanks to percy you're warm and dry.

you stifle a yawn as percy takes your hand in his and starts walking towards the cabins.

'thank you, that was nice.' you say.

'one of the bonuses of dating a poseidon kid.' says percy, lightly squeezing your hand.

he notices you hadn't talked about your project at all when you were in the lake. and you look genuinely tired. he hopes you can get at least one good nights sleep tonight.

'want to stay at my cabin tonight?' he says.

you smile and nod. 'yeah I'd like that.'

the two of you head to percy's cabin to get some sleep. and percy had been right, you got a good night of uninterrupted sleep. you dreamt of nothing but the comfort of the lake, and percy's presence next to you.

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#pjo #percy jackson #Percy Jackson x reader #Percy Jackson fanfiction #Percy Jackson fanfic #Percy Jackson fanfics #Percy Jackson fic #Percy Jackson fics #Percy Jackson oneshot #Percy Jackson oneshots #pjo fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfics #pjo fic #pjo fics #pjo oneshot #pjo oneshots

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luceafarul-de-dimineata · 22 days

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How the kings would react to the shipping of them and MC

Satan

He was hanging out with his nobles, just talking gossip like normal people

But Paimon was just staying on his phone through half the conversations

"Paimon! What's so important that you're not interested in seing Sitri's baby pictures?"

Sitri was dying in the corner while Zagan was rubbing his back

Paimon takes his eyes out of his phone and giggles.

"Oh, I was just arguing with some people onlineeee"

Satan puts down the pictures of baby Sitri on the table (which Astaroth swiftly takes for himself. This will make such great blackmail material) and sits next to Paimon curiously.

"What are these dumpass arguing about now? Don't tell me Leraye started sending death threats to Barbatos over the weather again."

"Noooooo, it's better than thaaaaat. People are arguing about who the child of Solomon would dateeeee"

Satan takes Paimon's phone and starts to scroll through the comversations.

"And I'm winning, right? I mean MC has a pact with me, I was the first to meet them, it's obvious that I'm the one they'll choose"

"I know, riiiiiight?"

Satan would become the most active person in the shipping forum, just spamming it with pictures of him and MC

It's a way to assert his dominance over the whole thing.

Gamigin almost started a war between Paradise Lost and Gehenna when he started insulting Satan under his photos of MC

Mod Jjok had to work overtime to stop the harassment everyone in Gehenna was throwing at Gamigin for that

Lucifer had to send a formal apologise on behalf of his son to stop the situation from escalating further.

Mammon

Recently Eligos asked him to try on different fashion styles

At some point Mammon asks Eligos what this is all about

"The child of Solomon mentioned that they are interested in gothic fashion, so I'm trying to see what clothing would fit you and abide by goth fashion rules."

Mammon chuckles and ruffles Eligos' hair before telling him that he is already to his master's liking

"But there are a lot of people that claim that MC would be more interested in the other kings. We can't have that! Just yesterday Amon was bragging that MC and Beelzebub went on a date!"

"I'm glad they had fun with Beelzebub, but Beelzebub is mine and I am MC's. They can have fun with anyone they please."

Eligos' jaw drops to the floor. He gets flashbacks of all the arguments he had online about this and how he bought bots to mass report any Mammon x Mc slander

Eligos constantly tries to convince Mammon that the shipping wars are a big but Mammon doesn't really care.

At most he sends pictures of him and MC cuddling to Satan to spite him like all good friends do with eachother.

Leviathan

Leviathan is a lurker through the forums

It's where he got most of his information about you before kidnapping you

Probably reports all posts that aren't for the ship with him and you for false information

He would constantly post pictures of you and him doing mundane things with captions like "Living life perfectly", "Greatest day of my life", "Me and my wonderful significant other"

Makes everyone in Hades like his post and floud it with compliments

He'll make an account for you where he roleplays as a version of you that's madly innlove with you

The most likely to start an actual war between Hades and whatever ship is trending that morning

He sometimes doesn't sleep and just scrolls through the forums, refreshing constantly to see if you're having fun with someone else

King of all doxxers

No VPN will protect you from Leviathan's wrath

Beelzebub

Beelzebub was tied to his office chair with Bael glaring at him

"Go on, look at the complaint. What does it say?"

"I should take a vacation. I'm already burned out. You know, overworking is very bad for your health."

Bael glares at him with not an ounce of amusement behind his eyes

When Beelzebub skims through the files, something catches his attention

"Threat of war from Hades? I don't remember going to Hades recently, what happened?"

"While you were away having fun with the child of Solomon, Amon posted pictures of you two going at it on a forum. Next thing I know, his majesty Leviathan declared war on Avisos. I had to talk him out of it, but we now have to write a report about what happened and send it to the other kingdoms to tell them that it was resolved without any casualties."

Beelzebub was laughing his ass off while Bael was question his life choices

Beelzebub asks Amon to show him the forum which the younger devil does happily.

He sometimes go through it often, but he uses it as a way to find out where you are.

He's chiller about the whole thing, finding it kind of funny that so many people are so invested in your love life

Lucifer

Gamigin won't shut up about it.

If Lucifer took a shot every time Gamigin complained about the shipping wars, he'll dethrone Beelzebub as the king of Gluttuny

Lucifer is a softer lover, only being intense in more private parts of your relationship

So even getting him to kiss you in public (or outside the bedroom) is very hard.

This makes Gamigin's job as a shipper very hard

Lucifer finds the shipping war situation absurd

Why would anyone do this? What is it accompleshing? Why does he suddently get embargos from Hades or Gehenna after he goes on a date with you?

He'll probably have to sit Gamigin down and tell him to stop calling the other kings rude names just because they hang out with you.

It really depends on your reaction to everything as well

If you like being in the spot light, than he'll try to be more open with his affection, giving Gamigin more oportunities to gush about you online

If you want to keep your relationship more private, than he'll make all cameras fracture when pointing at the two of you

#whb #what in hell is bad #shipper au #whb satan #whb mammon #whb leviathan #whb beelzebub #whb paimon #whb eligos #whb bael #whb amon #whb lucifer #whb gamigin #whb x reader

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danibeanie · 3 months

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Vibes & Beauty Astro observations 🩶

Stelliums💘

-i noticed girlies that have a stellium seem to have a stronger impression on people.Its very common to hear “I love your energy.”

-gemini stellium, love talking, mischievous eyes, sharp beauty,usually long brows,high pitched voice, playful,hair color very saturated like if you got dark hair it’s BLACK or light hair it’s super blonde.

-virgo stellium, just like their mercurial, but a bit more calm and reserved,down to earth voice,”girl me too”,natural beauty,can have a rbf,observant eyes.

-aries stellium, miss independent(love that tho), flushed cheeks, straightforward,intimidating, knows who she is, pronounced brows wether thin or thick they stand out,childlike eyes,gorg girlies.

-pisces stellium, eyes stand out wether it be color or shape you just notice them, kind & pure,high voices just like gemini but they don’t change it as much, cute, creates softness to the face,angels.

-usually when you have a stellium in a chart your gonna attract other people with a stellium as well

Eyes 👀

- water moon girlies have emotional eyes. Its even more pronounced when you have a moon conjunction with inner planets.

Cancer- looks through your soul, “what’s wrong you look sad?”,doe eyes,vulnerable ,pretty eyes ,guys nervous to look at your eyes,manipulative eyes.

Scorpio- intense,intense,intense,darker eyes DOESN’T matter the color, reads u like a book, hiding something,intimidating,mix of siren/doe

Pisces-so prettyyy,lots of eyelid space for some,in tune with other people,pure eyes,mysterious eyes ,long lashes, princess.

-I might just do a series on this!

-Lilith energy🖤

-When having prominent Lilith energy your just going to stand out somehow wether it be ur looks or personality. There’s just something to these people that makes u wanna watch.

-this may be a theory but I believe your lilith placement affects your looks even if it doesn’t tough your ascendant but it has to STRONGLY prounounced to ur personal planets.

-ex I have a Gemini stellium and I have sun moon and mercury conjunction all in 2nd house. My ascendent is in Taurus and my lilith in Gemini conjunct my sun and mercury but not my moon because it’s in an early degree cancer. I’m also a late taurus rising making half of my 1st house gemini. Also my Venus is in gemini in 1st house even though Lilith doesn’t touch my Venus it’s very pronounced in my 2nd house.(2’d house is Taurus home-connection to ascendent)

-All my life guys never approached me and when the few of them did they all had heavy mars energy wether being scorpio or Aries. I find myself attracted to Leo energy and I believe it’s because they match my strong energy. Insecure guys get intimidated by you and treat u like shit.Then get mad when you leave them but still keep on coming back?😭but for some reason expect you to be on the side like no sir we are all #1s here.I though u didn’t like me why are u trying to get my attention when u clearly didn’t want it yesterday.

-even if you try to hide your body for some reason it’s still noticed, “your so tiny” I’ve learned to embrace my body the older I get. confidence is key YALL!

-super black hair,I can’t tell u how many times people have commented on how dark my hair is😭

-mysterious vibe without even trying, my friends have told me this when I walk at the campus.

- I have a bestie with lilith energy as well but it squares her ascendent and mercury many people thought she was a b when first meeting her(even me).She also has mars conjunct ascendent lmao but I love her and our vibes just match each other. I feel like my Venus energy tames my lilith energy a bit more but it’s still there 😭

-guys just don’t approach u period :/

bye y’all thank u so much for the support in my last 2 posts lot of love🖤

#astrology content #astro observations #beauty #stellium #lilith #astro community #eyes

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 14 days

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On The Right Foot (Betrayal series) - F1 Grid

MV1 focused - side reader x Lando (relationship)

Summary: Max grew up karting her and while it took her longer to find her way into F1. Now she's here and they're side by side. But who'd have thought y/n would be the one to bring it to him. And who'd have predicted the damage it would cause?

For context with the race calendar, I'm using 2024 but this is based in 2025. I do think the calendar is changing for Australia to go back to being the opening race (gonna miss Bahrain, having a night race to open the season as such a vibe) but for this we're pretending it's still Bahrain.

"Here is the talk of the paddock. Max Verstappen's new teammate, childhood karting rival and best friends to my knowledge. He has spoken in nothing but praise and admitted that in karting she would often beat him." Martin states as they watch y/n walk into the garage for her session of testing. "I personally know her career record is impressive and while she's had some bad luck. I think her being reserve and test driver last year for them. They've seen something that's worth putting to the real test on track directly against their star."

"Now, I want to see y/n really bring it to Max. But do you think, realistically, that she will?" Crofty asks making the former F1 driver puff out a breath.

"I think testing will give us an idea of how she is handling the car and how she confident she feels driving. I'm certainly looking forward to it."

Testing went better than people expected, changes needed on the car were minimal and as a team Max had never felt like he valued a teammate like this.

Max knew things would be good within the team. Better than ever.

But going into Bahrain for the race rather than just testing, y/n and Max are proving to be the strongest lineup on the grid.

"Y/n, how are you feeling being in the Red Bull team?" A reporter asks as they sit in the press conference.

"I feel great, Max was just telling me earlier that he hopes we stay teammates forever." Y/n smirks then being nudged by her teammate. "No but I think it goes without saying that the whole team has been incredibly welcoming and Max especially has given me all the advice and help I could ask for. It's also nice to think that we could be leading the way for another dominant Red Bull season. Being part of that is easily the best feeling that I could ever think of feeling-well aside from standing on top of podiums and accepting the world champion trophy at the end of the season."

"That's great to hear. And Max, to you, is having y/n as a teammate and hearing her confidence of possibly beating your winning streak helpful?"

"I think it's bold but I welcome the challenge. I know what I got into when the team decided to bring y/n and I know that we will push each other. Hopefully only to the limit and not beyond it."

"We'll see." Y/n shrugs jokingly with a grin.

"Qualifying is going to be a fun one, Max had the edge on y/n yesterday but in FP3 she had half a second on him. Which is huge for Max and it seemed to be her quali simulation that time came from. But Max can pull out miracle laps when he wants to. It would not be unusual for him to demolish the field again." Martin comments making Crofty agree before they hand over to Ted.

"I think y/n may have Max on this one. I don't know if you guys have noticed, but she is like a bullet around the corners and she takes different lines to most of the drivers which seems to save her on time. Max seemed to try and replicate her method but it was not paying off for him."

"Really?"

"Yeah, if you watch the onboard and I'm sure Ant will show a side by side later. But the line she takes, her hitting the throttle and brakes. Almost completely different to Max and most of the field. I do think there's a few who have somewhat managed to replicate it. But their cars aren't competitive with the Red Bulls so she has no reason to be threatened, does she?"

"Not unless Max perfects it." Martin chuckles making the two other men quickly make conflicting comments of if they think y/n can tale pole in her first race. "I do think the expectations on y/n as a rookie plucked from Red Bull's talent pool are high and we should remember she is a year younger than Max with a lot of experience but still less than most of the field."

The two commentators continue to debate over who will lead and with Max 0.008 sec faster than y/n in Q1. It's a hard call.

But in Q2, Max takes a corner wrong and y/n ends 2 tenths up on the whole field.

"I'm not saying Max is feeling the pressure, but do you think y/n could make him feel it as the season goes on?" Crofty questions making Martin immediately speak.

"I actually think she may be well on her way to doing that. Max has...never had a teammate push him the way we say the likes of Lewis and Sebastian be pushed by a teammate. I think Max has found his match. I just hope we don't see a repeat of Nico and Lewis."

The two childhood friends to despising rivals was a pipeline that no one wished not the Brit and German. But ultimately it happened and everyone wishes for it to never happen again.

"Max is on pole if y/n can't beat his time and she's down in the first sector, equal in the middle. She's got a lot to make up in that last sector."

There's actually a rising tension as they watch her take the second corner and the crowd rises cheering when she shoots to the top of the times with only 0.010 sec between them.

"Y/n y/l/n on her debut has pole position and I think I speak for everyone. She has blown me away managing that." Crofty comments his voice giving away his genuine disbelief of her abilities. "That's amazing. She has got to be so proud."

Her radio suddenly pops up and they find out exactly how she's feeling.

"That's pole! That's pole on your debut, beautiful stuff!" Ronnie, her race engineer exclaims before hearing back.

"Oh my good god! Fucking fuck! Pole position baby! This one is for you and the whole team. We're going to make this pole a win." Y/n squeals laughing in disbelief of it herself. "Where's Max? We're on the front row? A lock out?"

"Yeah, it's a row lock out for the Red Bulls. You and him got a race to the first corner." Ronnie chuckles while she laughs as she finally pulls into the pit lane for Parc ferme.

"Well that is a very happy young lady and so she should be. That is an amazing way to start her first race and kick off the season. I think we are certainly watching history in the making and the strongest team line up we've seen in years." Crofty comments making Martin immediately agree. "How do you think Max is going to feel about being out qualified by his rookie teammate?"

"I think he-well there you go he seems very happy for her." Martin states as they watch Max go directly to her in the cockpit, patting her helmet before helping her up and out, pulling her straight into a hug. "No surprise really, he seems to have a very big brother bond towards y/n and similarly she has a sisterly bond with him. But long term, I don't know if I'd be confident about him continuing to be happy if she is consistently just getting the edge on him."

"Given Max's past, I'd have to agree. But you never know."

The first 4 races seem to build a pattern. Y/n took the poles and wins in Bahrain and Jeddah. Max took the pole and a win in Australia and took pole in Japan.

The one issue?

Y/n is leading the standings after finishing P2 in both Australia and Japan. However, Max had damage from George in Japan and ended up P5. Something that earned a kind of rage y/n wasn't expecting from him.

Now they're in China and y/n is beginning to notice a change in Lando completely devoted to her.

"Y/n, how are you feeling being here in China?" A reporter asks as she stands in the media pen.

"Good. I'm leading the championship and I have every intention to continue get another win. But I know Max has the experience on the track that I lack. So we're going to see whether the rookie luck is still there or if it's truly already gone." Y/n smiles while the reporter nods.

"And how are things with Max and you?"

Y/n tries to not hesitate, the PR team told her to play off the mild rising tension.

"We're best friends. But we're also in a battle for a championship title, so of course we have our own goals to beat each other."

"But everything in the team feels good."

"Great. I'll always support Max in the same way I know he'll always support me."

Famous last words or what?

415 notes · View notes

bucky-fricking-barnes · 3 months

Text

The Cards We're Dealt

Title: The Cards We’re Dealt

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 15k

Warnings: Arranged marriage, alcohol, cursing, objectification of women and mild sexism, bad parents, angst, fluff, mentions of drugs

Summary: Bucky and Y/N are the children of the two most prominent mob bosses in New York. When their parents use them as part of a deal, they’re left to figure out how their lives fit together.

A/N: Wow! Another long fic because I have no self-restraint. There’s a bit of Irish in this because I couldn’t resist it when I wrote Steve. Translations are at the end, and anything incorrect can be blamed on Google Translate. As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging, and supporting me in all the ways you do.

There is an unspoken rule amongst the mobs in New York that the more drug manufacturers a man controls, the nicer you treat his daughter. So, when Bucky’s father tells him that he’s once again been pimped out as part of a deal, Bucky knows to ask the question,

“How many does he control?”

If Bucky had his way, of course, he would treat all girls as well as he is able (which is very well). He likes girls, and he likes going out with girls. He just wishes he could choose which girls he got to take out.

“Seventy-five percent,” George Barnes says, and Bucky freezes with his glass against his lips. He has a club soda to his father’s whiskey—he’s in a good mood and was actually hoping to enjoy the day, though now he’s reconsidering it. His plan to lounge by the pool with Becca and soak up as much of the late spring sunshine as possible is quickly dissipating.

“That’s not possible,” Bucky replies. He quickly does the math in his head. His dad owns over half the manufacturers in Brooklyn. “We own—“

“Not anymore.”

The library falls silent as Bucky tries to wrap his head around the news. Just yesterday he’d overheard his father on the phone with one of his men, explaining in great detail what he’d do if they didn’t get him a sample of their newest product by the top of the hour.

“How?” he asks. He sets his glass aside and sits straighter in his chair. “Did something happen? You didn’t tell me about a takeover.”

George takes a sip of his whiskey. “That’s because there wasn’t one.” He sets the crystal tumbler on the small bronze tray nearby. Marta will come clean it up later. “I sold them.”

“You sold them? If you’ve already struck a deal, then why am I taking out his daughter? Isn’t that normally something you have me do to butter their fathers up before you make the deal?”

Bucky watches as his own father stands and goes to watch the landscapers through the library window, his hands clasped behind his back. He’s long since been out of the army, but some habits die hard. Very rarely did the man ever relax.

“You are the deal,” George answers, his voice much too casual for Bucky’s liking.

“What the hell are you talking about?” snaps Bucky.

“Watch your tone, boy,” his father replies. He doesn’t turn around to witness the way Bucky grinds his teeth together in response. “In exchange for the majority of Theo’s territory, you and Y/N will be married within a year and a half, though the exact date is up to the two of you. I believe that Theo mentioned his daughter likes spring, so perhaps a spring wedding. June is popular, from what I’m told, though that’s cutting it a little close to the deadline.”

Bucky’s up out of his seat now. He can feel his pulse thrumming and he can’t quite catch his breath.

“So what? You threw me in to sweeten the pot? Am I just another bargaining chip to you now?”

He’s shouting. He doesn’t care.

George turns and regards him in silence, and, like always, his expression betrays nothing of what he’s thinking or feeling. He doesn’t seem fazed at all by Bucky’s outburst.

“You’re my heir. I make my decisions based on what’s best for our family. Nothing about this decision is impulsive or frivolous, James,” he finally answers, his voice cool and even. There’s nothing familial in his tone—George Barnes is all business.

“You can’t just decide that I’m getting married. I won’t do it. I refuse,” Bucky tells him. He balls his fists at his sides and he sets his jaw, furious. How dare his father try to control his life like this? It’s one thing to occupy the majority of Bucky’s nights and weekends with dates, meetings, dinners, and weapons runs, but it’s another to throw him into a marriage he doesn’t want.

“I can and you will. If you don’t, there will be consequences. To start, you will be immediately cut off from our family. You will have no money, no home, no resources, and no contact or communication with anyone involved in the business, including your mother and your sister.”

Heart pounding, Bucky glares at him. He’s got a migraine coming on. He knows his father isn’t kidding, but he wants more than anything for Steve to pop out and say that this is all just a joke. He’s never even met Theo’s daughter. He’s barely even met Theo. According to the rumors, his only daughter is his most prized treasure. She isn’t someone who frequents any of the bars, clubs, and restaurants that he and the other “mob children” frequent. Maybe “mob children” isn’t exactly the right term, at least not anymore. After all, Bucky’s engaged now. He’s just part of the mob, another pawn to be moved around the chessboard.

“You have the rest of the day off. I’ll see you at eight tomorrow morning,” says George. He picks up his glass and downs the last of the liquor. “Theo and his family are coming for breakfast, and then Y/N will be moving in with us. I want you on your best behavior.”

He pauses and Bucky continues to glare at him, not validating his words with a response. George’s eyes grow dark with a thinly veiled threat. Bucky knows that look��if he pushes his father any harder, he’ll regret it.

“Do you understand, boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky grinds out.

Turning on his heel, Bucky stalks out of the library and slams the door behind him. He immediately heads down the hall, then down the stairs and across the ground floor of the Barnes Estate to the garage. His keys are still in his pocket; he’d only just gotten back from a night out with Steve when his father had summoned him.

It doesn’t matter that he’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Bucky climbs onto his bike and revs the engine, speeding off down the long driveway that winds around the house. The guards barely get the gate open in time and then he’s flying down the road, heading straight to Steve’s bar in the city. He knows his friend will be there, most likely nursing his hangover and going over the books in his back office. He won’t be hard to convince to go out again, though Bucky knows he won’t approve of the plan to drink as much as he possibly can in the next twelve hours. It doesn’t matter, though—it’s Bucky’s last night as a free man, and he’s determined to make the most of it.

You sit between your parents, staring at the empty seat across from you. They’d told you this morning that you were going to the Barnes Estate for breakfast, and while you’d expected the grandeur of the dining room and the meal, you didn’t expect the eldest Barnes child to be completely absent. You’ve never met him, but your mother has insisted that you speak to James—George Barnes’ only son and heir—as much as possible during the meal. Supposedly, he’s the same age as you.

Rebecca Barnes is a ray of sunshine and her cheery disposition is a stark contrast to the dark clouds that now hang over your fathers’ heads. Maybe it’s a deal gone wrong or maybe it’s something else, but you don’t like it. It leaves an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Silently, you sneak a hand under the table to find your mother’s. You squeeze and your mom squeezes back, glancing over to give a reassuring smile.

“Y/N,” Mrs. Barnes starts, and you jump a little in your seat. You haven’t been verbally addressed since you’d been seated a half hour ago. The food has yet to be served. “Your parents tell us that you’re very interested in horticulture. Did you know we have a rose garden out back?”

You force a polite smile. “I don’t know about very interested. I have a few house plants that I’ve managed to keep alive, though I would love to see your garden sometime. I’m sure it’s beautiful,” you add.

“Maybe Bucky can take you,” Rebecca says, earning herself a sharp look from her mother. She simply shrugs.

Oh, to be as unbothered as Rebecca Barnes!

“Where is James?” your father asks. His voice is a low, threatening growl and you sink down in your chair, staring at the cloth napkin still folded atop your plates.

“He knows to be here,” Mr. Barnes growls back. “You’ll have to excuse his tardiness, he’s not normally like this.”

Mrs. Barnes gives Rebecca an even harsher look when she opens her mouth to speak, and this time the girl actually looks ashamed. She takes a sip of her orange juice to hide the guilty look on her face. She’s the first person to have actually touched something on the table, and it’s like whatever spell the room has been under is broken.

All at once, the dining room springs to life. A short, slightly heavy-set woman in a gray dress and white apron enters through one door. She’s holding a delicate silver coffeepot and the smell of coffee instantly fills the room. Two younger women in identical uniforms follow behind her, each of them pushing golden carts laden with food. Through the door across the room, a tall man with short, dark brown hair stumbles in. He’s wearing all black, from his rumpled button-up and jeans to his boots and sunglasses. His hair is sticking up in every direction and just like the coffee, you can smell the stench of alcohol coming from him even from your seat.

You grimace at the smell and pull your napkin into your lap as one of the women comes to place food in front of you. It’s a formal dining service and the strange new man who’s entered feels entirely out of place. From his attire to the way he shuffles across the antique rug, everything about him screams that he’d rather be anywhere else. If you acted like that, your father would be pulling you back out into the hallway to reprimand you, and you look anxiously at Mr. Barnes, who’s seated at the head of the table.

“James,” he greets, his voice unnervingly even. A chill runs down your spine. “It’s nice of you to join us. I trust that you slept well last night?”

James collapses into the only empty chair at the table, the one across from you, and pointedly ignores his father. You risk a glance up at him as he reaches for the cup of coffee that’s already been poured.

True to form, Rebecca leans over and claps a hand on her brother’s shoulder blade. “Good morning! Aren’t you excited to have breakfast with our guests?” she shouts, and her smirk makes it much too clear that she’s fully enjoying the way her brother’s scowl deepens. Rebecca also ignores her parents, including her mother, who leans forward to look past James and give her a look of warning.

James shrugs his sister off of him and starts buttering the toast on his plate. You watch for a moment, then start picking at your own food as your mother also begins to eat. Everyone’s acting so strangely that you’re already on edge, and you’ve only managed to get down a few grapes and two bites of dry toast by the time your father speaks up again.

“So when are we signing these papers?” he asks, sipping his coffee.

“As soon as the marriage license is signed,” answers Mr. Barnes.

You frown. Marriage license? Who’s getting married?

“And the terms are the same as when we last spoke?”

Mr. Barnes sips his own drink, something that looks suspiciously like whiskey, and sets down the glass. “Yes. I have that contract in my office. We’ll review and sign after we’re done here. Are all of your daughter’s things ready to be moved?”

Your stomach drops and you turn to stare at your father with wide eyes. He nods, not even paying attention to you as he continues his conversation with the other man. Your mother pointedly ignores you, choosing instead to stare at her plate as she eats. When you look around the room, it seems like almost everyone else is doing the same. Rebecca is the only person who actually meets your panicked gaze. She gives you a pitying look as your anxiety rises.

It feels like your mouth is filled with sandpaper, and you grab your glass of juice. You have to drink half of it before the feeling even mildly abates. As soon as you set it down, one of the women in gray appears to refill it.

“What’s going on? Why are you moving my stuff?” you finally choke out. You twist the napkin in your lap with both hands, wringing it as you look from one person’s face to the next.

Mr. Barnes stops mid-sentence and the whole room freezes. Even James, who’s pouring something into his coffee cup from a small silver flask, stops what he’s doing.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” your mother begins, taking your hand under the table.

You want to pull away. You don’t.

“After breakfast, your father and I are going home, but you’ll be staying here with the Barneses.”

“What?” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears. “No, I don’t— I don’t want to stay here. You never said anything about me—“

“We’re getting married,” James interrupts. He’s chewing and you look over at him, gaping at the casual way he’s sprawled out in his chair. You can feel his gaze on you even from behind his sunglasses and it makes you feel dirty.

“Excuse me?”

He chuckles and sits up, then leans forward in the chair. He drops the greasy strip of bacon he’d been eating onto his plate. “We’re getting married. They’re using us like bartering chips, sweetheart. You and me in exchange for all the drugs and all the territory in New York.” James gestures grandly with one hand, a too-wide grin on his face. There must be at least ten rings on each of his hands and you swallow thickly at the threatening display of black and silver metal.

You’re trembling now and you pull your hand away from your mom’s. She reaches for you again but you shake your head, shying away from her touch. Frantically, you look around the room to see if this is some kind of joke or a drunken rambling, but no one is laughing. Even Mrs. Barnes has the decency to look sympathetic on your behalf.

“No, no. You wouldn’t—“ You look back at your parents, imploring them to say that it isn’t true. You swallow thickly, trying to stave off tears, and your voice wavers as you prompt, “Mom? Dad?”

Their silence speaks volumes and a whimper escapes you as you wring your hands in your lap. The napkin slides onto the floor. It suddenly feels like you can’t breathe and when your mom reaches out for a second time and starts to tell you to calm down, you jerk away and stand. The chair falls backwards behind you, but you ignore it as you rush out of the dining room and into the hallway you’d entered from. Everything is unfamiliar. Frantically, you pick a door and yank on the handle. It doesn’t give way and you continue the process until one of them finally opens and you can rush inside. You lock it behind you and press your back against the door. The curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows are closed, shrouding the room in darkness. You can’t make out much of the furniture through the tears in your eyes.

Out in the hallway, you can hear your mother calling for you and your father arguing with Mr. Barnes. Mrs. Barnes is yelling at somebody too, but it’s hard enough to hear the others over your own gasps and sobs. You’re properly crying now and you sink to the floor, curling up on the carpet as you heave. It’s a good thing you weren’t able to stomach much breakfast.

A knock on the door makes you yelp and then cry harder, and you crawl into the darkness of the room to try and find a hiding spot. You’re lucky enough to find an old, heavy desk right away. It’s the perfect size for you to crawl under for shelter, and there’s no chair for you to move out of the way. The drawers on both sides create a cubby for you, so you crawl into it and curl up into a ball with your back towards the door, just in case someone manages to get in. If you’re quiet enough, it’s possible they’ll walk right past you.

The crowd in the hallway has definitely heard you by now. The doorknob is rattling as whoever’s on the other side tries to get in, but after a few minutes, they stop and the hallway goes quiet. You hold your breath after every couple of sobs, listening for any sign that they’ve found a key or that they’re picking the lock. Nothing happens, however, and after a while, you give up on listening.

You sit in the darkness and cry until you’re thoroughly exhausted. Once you’ve run out of tears, you sit and zone out with your head resting against the side of the desk drawers for a while longer, numb from the news. Your body feels light and a buzzing, tingling feeling makes moving your limbs seem impossible. You could’ve never imagined that your parents would be so capable of treating you so poorly. You’ve always felt so loved by them, and to hear that they’ve practically thrown you away at the first chance of a profit makes you want to puke. Upon that realization, you actually do throw up, and the stink of your vomit on the carpet of whatever room you’re in makes you want to cry all over again.

The door opens just as the stench is becoming too much to bear. Light floods in from the hallway and you squint, curling up in fear. After a moment, the shorter woman in the gray uniform that you’d seen at breakfast appears a few feet away from the desk, right in the path of light. You look up at her.

“Oh dear,” she sighs, and you instantly feel ashamed at the disappointment in her voice.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. Your bottom lip is trembling again as fresh tears somehow appear in your eyes. Sniffling, you wipe your nose with the back of your wrists. “I can clean it if you—“

“You’ll do no such thing,” the woman says. Her voice is gentle and kind, so much so that you don’t feel the need to argue with her. She waves her hand dismissively and approaches you, then holds out both hands. She’s careful not to step in the mess you’ve made. “Now come on, up you go.”

You let her help you to your feet and then you straighten out your clothes, sniffling and wiping at your nose again in a desperate attempt to look more put together than you feel. Still a bit unsteady, you whimper for a second time, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, dear.” She gives you a warm smile. “My name’s Marta. I’m the head housekeeper here. It’s very nice to meet you.”

You don’t feel the same way about meeting her, given the circumstances, but you hold that comment to yourself and simply nod in agreement. Marta leads you back out into the too-bright hallway. It’s empty except for a bald man mopping the floor on the far end.

The high ceilings and glossy marble floors make it look like you’re in a castle. Even the silence feels regal. Everything seems so cold compared to your home, and you feel too small in the massive space.

“What time is it?” you quietly ask, looking back at Marta.

“It’s almost noon, Miss.”

Your stomach sinks and you press your lips together, inhaling deeply as you look around again. Three hours have passed. “My parents…”

“They left about fifteen minutes after breakfast,” she tells you. Her words are matter-of-fact, even if she delivers the news in the softest possible way.

Somehow it hurts worse that they’ve left you than finding out they’d practically sold you to the Barneses in exchange for God knows what. Drugs or territory, whatever James had said. Not only did they treat you like nothing, but they’d deserted you after it was clear you didn’t agree with their plans. They hadn’t even tried to reassure you that they still loved you or that you’d still be able to see them. Maybe you wouldn’t be. Maybe they didn’t.

You nod numbly. There’s been nothing to prepare you for this, no precursor or warning, so you keep looking around the hall, though in reality you’re not really seeing anything.

“Your room is ready upstairs, Miss Y/N. Would you like me to take you?” asks Marta.

You nod again. You feel like you’re underwater as you follow her up a grand staircase and then down a long, narrow hallway. It’s decorated similarly to the ground floor, though with a plush Persian rug running its length. Marta talks as she walks ahead of you, no doubt explaining what the many doors lead to, but her words simply go in one ear and out the other. It’s all so surreal that when you finally get to your own room, you don’t even open the door. Marta has to reach around you to open it, and then she gently ushers you inside when you still don't move.

Just as they had said at breakfast, your belongings have all been moved into the Barnes Estate. The furniture here is different, grander than what you’re used to, but your blankets and pillows are on the bed, and the two bookshelves are packed full of the books you’ve collected over the years. Even the strip from the photo booth at an old friend’s wedding is pinned to the bulletin board above the desk. Someone’s even thought to put your plants on their own table by the window.

“There’s a bathroom on the left and your closet is on the right,” Marta explains, pointing to each. “If you’re hungry, dinner is at five.”

“Do I have to eat with them?” you ask.

If Marta is surprised by your question, she doesn’t show it. She simply shakes her head with a gentle smile. “No. We can bring food here if you’d like.”

You nod and stand in silence until she leaves and closes the door behind her. Then, after another minute passes, you drag yourself over to the bed, climb under the covers, and close your eyes.

If there’s any mercy left in this life, you think, I’ll fall asleep and never wake up again.

Weeks pass and you still haven’t adjusted to life at the Barnes Estate. The staff is only slightly less friendly than those you grew up with, but they’re more attentive. It helps that there are more of them. For every member of the Barnes family, yourself included, there are at least four staff members to attend to their every need. It makes you feel like royalty, but it also makes you feel guilty. You don’t need this much. You certainly didn’t ask for it.

You haven’t seen James since the ill-fated breakfast, nor have you seen your parents. They’ve gone so far as to block your number. After that discovery, you’d locked yourself in the massive ensuite bathroom and cried for an hour. Marta had been the one to coax you out. The poor maid who’d found you when coming to get you for dinner hadn’t known how to help. You’d spent that entire evening curled up on your bed while reruns of The Nanny played on the TV embedded in the wall across from the massive mattress. Marta had spent every second with you that she could, but eventually Mrs. Barnes—Winnifred, as you referred to her in your mind—had scolded her for neglecting her nighttime duties across the estate. That made you feel even worse.

“Are you okay?” Rebecca asks, and you turn to look at her from where you’re staring out the hallway windows at the gardeners. The backyard is massive, complete with a rose garden in full bloom, an outdoor swimming pool, a forested walking trail, a large green expanse for games and parties, a gazebo, a fountain, and what seems to be stables far in the distance, though you haven’t ventured far enough to be sure. A visit to the rose garden hasn’t been brought up again either, and nothing seems interesting enough to explore on your own.

Nodding, you don’t say anything before turning back to watch the men work. They talk and laugh with each other as they prune, pick, and water. You wish that you could trade places with them.

“You don’t look okay,” she says. Rebecca props herself up on the window ledge to your right, facing you with a suspicious look on her face. “We haven’t seen you at any meals, and Valerie told me that you were crying in the bathtub three nights ago.”

You should feel ashamed, but you’re too numb to care. It feels like you’re floating through each day, detached from most things. You’ve spent your entire life thinking that you would marry for love and live happily ever after. Now, your parents have sold you to the highest bidder and your husband-to-be is a cruel, disgusting man-child that wants nothing to do with you.

Rebecca’s fingers lacing with yours jerk you back to reality and you look down at your joined hands in confusion. Her nails are bitten short and she wears a single ring with the Barnes family crest. It’s dainty and gold, a stark contrast to the many rings on her brother’s fingers.

“You’re safe here, Y/N,” she tells you, her voice gentle. “You don’t have to be alone. I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened to you. If I had any say in it, you could be home right now with your parents, but I’m far from the top of the totem pole.”

“I hate them.” You spit the words out and jerk your hand away from hers. “I hate my parents.”

That’s the first time you’ve ever said that in your entire life and your heart skips a beat as the anger makes your lip curl. You’re baring your teeth at her but Rebecca doesn’t even flinch. She’s a mafia princess, through and through.

“They made me believe that I could have anything I wanted, that I could marry whoever I wanted whenever I was ready, and then they threw that all away and treated me like shit the first time it was convenient for them.”

She nods. “That’s true.”

“I was so foolish to have believed them,” you growl, but the fight in you is fading just as quickly as it came. You burn bright, but you burn quickly, too.

“No,” Rebecca says, shaking her head. “You’re just human.”

You look away, embarrassed by your display of emotion as your eyes begin to water with more tears. You were raised to be reserved. You knew very little about the inner workings of your parents’ business, but you’d learned as a young girl that you’d fare better if you always clung to the edges of the room, avoiding the dirt and grime and blood that surrounded your whole life. Over the years, you’ve grown very good at hiding yourself and your emotions from the people around you. From the spark in her eye, you have the feeling that Rebecca is the exact opposite. She could hold her own if it came down to it. You couldn’t.

“It’s okay to be upset,” she insists.

Shaking your head, you take a deep breath and look back out the window. You lift your chin slightly and when Rebecca tries to rope you into another conversation with her, you ignore her and focus on the men outside. They’re finished tending to the roses on the edges of the garden. Now they’re working their way inwards.

You’re finally left alone a few minutes later and as soon as she’s around the corner, you let out a heavy sigh and relax your posture. Slumping forward, you lean forward into the window ledge, curling up just a little as you continue to watch the gardeners. The silly song from Alice in Wonderland pops into your head and you hum along, eventually mumbling to yourself about painting the roses red.

You feel a little bit like Alice, you realize. You’re out of your element in a strange land where everything you’ve learned about life seems to be turned on its head. In this world, nobody marries for love and the girls are just as entrenched in the business as the men. Does Rebecca conduct business with her father and older brother? You could certainly picture it. Will the same be expected of you?

That afternoon, Marta knocks on your door with a written invitation from Winnifred. Your presence is being formally requested at their dinner table, though from the look the housekeeper is giving you, it’s more of a demand than a request. With her help, you pick out something to wear. By the time five o’clock rolls around, you’re crossing the enormous hallway in a dress and heels that you’ve never seen before. It’s far too showy for your taste, but it’s clearly something someone wanted you to wear. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have put it in your closet.

George Barnes and James stand when you enter the dining room, as do several other men you don’t recognize. Your father is standing near the head of the table with George, though your mother and Rebecca are nowhere in sight. Besides Winnifred, you don’t recognize any of the other women. The only empty seat is beside James and your immediate instinct is to flee, but then he’s stepping aside to pull out the chair and all eyes are on you.

Slowly, you close the distance between the two of you and sit. He helps you scoot in, then takes his own seat on your right. The other men sit as well and then dinner resumes. You sit in silence, staring at the top edge of your plate with your hands in your lap. You’re not really listening to the conversations around you, either, but you can feel someone’s eyes on you as you try to stay as quiet and motionless as possible.

“Are you sick or something?”

You startle and look up with wide eyes. James is watching you. He’s got one hand on the table with his fingers brushing the stem of his wineglass and the other resting on his thigh. Unlike your fateful breakfast weeks ago, James is dressed in a neat, all-black suit. He has no tie, and his rings are all gone except one. It’s identical to Rebecca’s family crest, except his is silver and has a thicker band.

His eyes are full of something you can’t place and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. As quickly as you turned to him, you turn away and look back at your plate. The napkin is folded in some elaborate way on top of the plate. You’re not sure if it’s supposed to resemble anything at all, but maybe if you stare at it long enough, it will look like something.

“Y/N?” he prompts. You nod once, tightly, and then pull the heavy cloth napkin into your lap when a server appears to present the first course.

Between the second and third course, you can feel James’ eyes on you. After the third, he gets roped into conversation with a man sitting across the table, but you know that he’s glancing at you all the while. After the fourth, he bumps his arm against yours. You shirk away and feel him tense beside you.

“Excuse me,” you mumble, and you push your chair away from the table. Immediately, the conversations stop and all the men stand again. It’s too much attention on you and you hurry out of the dining room as fast as your heels and dress will allow. You’re stumbling over yourself by the time you get back to your suite on the third floor. The door slams behind you and you collapse onto the floor beside the bed, too overwhelmed to even climb atop the oversized mattress. You’re on the verge of tears when there’s a soft knock from the door, and that rips a sob from your chest that you hadn’t expected.

Immediately, the door opens and James is standing in the open space, a dark look on his face. You sob again and scramble backwards until the edge of the bed frame is digging painfully into your spine.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

You swallow hard and take several gasping breaths, trying to control yourself. Your mind is spinning with insults, calling you weak and pathetic, and you believe every one.

“It’s just too much,” you answer through your tears. “I don’t want this!”

James huffs. His angry expression has faded, now replaced with something more akin to irritation. “And you think I do?”

You shake your head. “Of course not.”

“These are the cards we’ve been dealt, doll. You’re gonna have to get over it. Let’s just get married and then we can live happily ever after in a big house where we never have to see each other. I’ll do what I want and you can do what you want. Sound like a plan?”

You look down at your hands. A big part of you wants to say that no, it doesn’t sound like a plan. You don’t want that life. You don’t want a house so big that you practically need a golf cart to get from one side to the other. You don’t want a husband who ignores you in favor of his blood money or his side chick or the next shiny toy off the black market. You don’t want James.

Though every part of you is screaming the opposite, you nod. He crosses the room and you inhale sharply to steady yourself as he approaches you with no care. His black dress shoes are tracking dirt across the rug. James holds out a hand to help you up and you take it. The heirloom ring on his right hand digs into yours until you’re standing, and then he drops your hand like it’s on fire.

“We need to go back,” he tells you, and you nod again. “Our parents are pissed.”

“Of course they are,” you mumble.

James pauses, staring at you critically. You’ve been staring at the baseboards since he helped you up, but when he doesn’t move or speak, you glance upwards at him. He’s got one eyebrow raised. His expression is thoroughly unreadable otherwise and an unsettling feeling blooms in your stomach.

“What?” you ask. You step back a little, but there’s no place to go except up against the bed again.

He shakes his head at you. “Nothing. Come on, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” You scrunch your nose. “Anything but that.”

“Sugar?” he offers, and when you shake your head, he sighs. “Well, what do you want me to call you, since you’re suddenly the one calling the shots?”

His words cut deep and you look back down, hating the way shame immediately pools in your belly. How could he seem angry and irritated with you, then borderline kind, and then completely disinterested in your feelings the next? It’s disorienting, and you don’t need that on top of everything else.

“That’s what I thought. Let’s go.”

Grabbing your arm in a grip just bordering on painful, James pulls you out of your bedroom and back down the hall. He holds on as you stumble behind him in your heels. When you reach the ground floor hallway again, he drops his hand and offers you his arm. You’re hesitant to take it, but he sighs a little and you decide that it’s easier to give in than to put up a fight.

The two of you walk back into the dining room and the conversations immediately hush. James leads you to your waiting seats, pulls out the chair for you, and then helps you scoot towards the table again once you’re seated. As he takes his spot beside you, your father speaks up.

“Have you and James discussed when you’ll be getting married?” he asks.

You pick up your fork and stare at the strange food on your plate, ignoring him. Though your stomach is churning, you force yourself to take a bite. He can’t expect you to answer while you’re chewing—it would be bad manners.

“Next spring,” James answers. “In the rose garden.”

You want to spit on the roses. You swallow your food instead.

“Good choice,” Mr. Barnes agrees. He turns his attention back to your father. “Your daughter is quite the well-behaved woman. She’ll do well with our James.”

Beside you, James tenses again, his grip tightening slightly on his fork. You glance at him, holding your breath, and wait until he relaxes again to take another bite of your food.

The rest of the dinner passes with mundane, meaningless conversations. Nobody addresses you for the remainder of the meal, not even your parents, and finally the men begin to make their way out of the dining room to an adjoining room. You hadn’t even realized there was a room connected; the door is hidden amongst the paneling and crown molding on the walls.

“You can’t go in there.” James grabs your wrist as you stand to follow the group of men into the new room. His voice isn’t malicious and his grip isn’t tight, but you flinch away from him anyway. It’s only then that you realize the few women that had been in the room are leaving through the door to the hall with their wineglasses in hand.

“Because I’m a woman?” you counter.

“Because you don’t want to hear the things that they’re going to discuss,” he answers. He tosses his napkin on the table and stands, towering over you. After a long second of eye contact, he steps away from you and heads towards the men.

You watch him go and silently weigh your options. A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have even thought about following the men into the second room. You would have simply taken the same path as the other woman, though your wine would have continued to remain untouched. Now, however, with your wine in hand, you stood at a crossroads. You could go into the room and potentially face the wrath of your father, James, and George Barnes, or you could live forever curious as to what was actually being discussed.

With your mind made up, you down your wine, step around James, and head through the open door into the room. It’s a study with dark wood paneling on the walls, leather couches, and stale cigar smoke in the air. As soon as you enter, the laughter and conversation stop and all eyes land on you.

“Y/N, you should be with Winnie and your mother,” Mr. Barnes says, stepping towards you. James is behind you now and though you’re hedged in, you simply lift your chin at the older man.

“Why? Am I not allowed to know what family I’m marrying into?”

His face darkens. “Girl, I’m warning you—”

“Don’t speak to my wife like that.” James’ voice from over your shoulder startles you and you quickly turn your head, looking back at him with shock.

Why is he suddenly standing up for me?

“Hold your tongue, James,” his father snaps. “You aren’t married yet, and Y/N needs to learn her place. One would think her father would have taught her better, considering the problems his wife caused.”

Though you hate your parents for what they’ve done to you, your blood boils at the insult. Your anger rears its ugly head even more when you realize that your father doesn’t look intent on standing up for you or your mom, either.

“That’s enough!”

You swear the room rattles around you when James shouts and you grit your teeth, furious at Mr. Barnes. How dare he insult your father? How dare he talk to you and his son that way?

James grabbing your hand shocks you back into reality. Once again, his grip is almost painfully tight, but you force your face to reveal nothing.

“Y/N and I are going out. If I so much as hear that you’ve said a single thing about her in my absence, you will regret ever giving me any kind of power in this business,” he growls. “The next time you see her, I expect that you’ll treat her with the respect she deserves.”

The men stare at you and James in disbelief, and then you find yourself being practically dragged out of the room. You’re too stunned to fight back, so you let him pull you across the ground floor of the estate to a door only two down from the dark room where you’d hit the morning your parents had left you behind.

“We’ll have to take the car, unless you’re okay riding the bike in that dress,” James says, pushing open the door. He doesn’t look back at you as he speaks, and it takes you a second to realize he wants a response.

“Car,” you answer after a few seconds. “Please.”

The room James has led you to is a massive garage, stretching farther than you ever realized a similar room could. Three of the walls are made of light gray cement, as are the floor and ceiling, and the fourth wall is made up of windowed garage doors, each one big enough for several cars to drive through simultaneously. Running down the center of the rectangular garage, there is a row of seven parked cars, with enough space to fit at least another car between each one, and beyond that, you can see a row of several motorcycles parked in a similar manner. The cars are in varying shades of gray and black, with the exception of one red sports car at the far end of the group. You can’t see the bikes well enough from the door, but you catch glimpses of blue, silver, gray, and black.

Four enormous, black and silver tool chests are lined up against the wall facing the hoods of the cars, but there isn’t a spot of oil or dirt in sight. You don’t even see any loose tools or equipment. Looking around, you wonder if the tool chests are just there for decoration, or if someone on the estate actually works on the cars and motorcycles.

Maybe James works on them?

“Are all of these yours?” you ask, unable to help yourself. He seems like the kind of guy who would enjoy driving around for fun, and he’s just mentioned something about a bike. You stare at the side of James’ face as he plucks a set of keys off a black pegboard on the wall. There’s a button embedded in the wall beside the board. James pushes it with one thumb and the keys in his hand bump against the wall.

One of the garage doors near the last few cars starts to roll upwards onto the ceiling, revealing the outside of the estate. The sun has completely disappeared from the sky, and the moonlight is blocked by the clouds you’d seen rolling in earlier in the afternoon. The leaves of the large shade trees that surround the estate and form a protective shield from the outside world rustle in the wind. Crickets and cicadas chirp, reminding you of the cool spring nights you’d spent on your family estate as a little girl. You’d run around in the grass near the garden while your mom or your nanny watched you. Sometimes your father’s men would watch from the perimeter of the property, and when you’d wave, they’d wave back, asking what you’d done that day. You always answered them, even if you knew it would get you in trouble. They never stopped asking either, even if it got them in trouble, too.

You stop walking and close your eyes, then breathe in deeply as the night air rushes into the garage. It’s the first time you’ve been even close to the outdoors since arriving at the Barnes Estate. Your skin is still warm from the stifling dining room and the anger you’d felt in the men’s study. The breeze is a blessed relief, even if you do shiver after only a moment. Goosebumps form on your exposed skin—the dress Marta had picked out for you did little to keep you safe from the elements.

James keeps walking down the aisle formed by the wall and the front of the cars, though you hear his footsteps pause a few moments after you stop following him.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You’re a little surprised that he’s not demanding that you catch up. When you open your eyes, you immediately meet his gaze, and a weird feeling bubbles up in your stomach. The expression on his face betrays little, but his stare reminds you of the way your father’s men looked at you all those years ago—interested and almost fond, but ready to push you away at a moment’s notice. You nod and hurry to catch up with him.

Once you get closer, James presses a button on the key fob in his hand. One of the cars in front of the open garage door rumbles to life. The sound it makes is a low purr, almost seductive, and you raise an eyebrow as James approaches, then runs his fingers over the hood. Even if the others aren’t, this car has to be his. It’s a sleek black, with dark tinted windows and a gleaming silver grill in the front. The BMW logo shines proudly in the center. It looks like a car your own father would own. Though you know he’s never owned a BMW, if this car is anything like the ones in your father’s fleet, you know that the inside will be as much a picture of luxury as the outside.

You slide into the passenger seat when James opens the door for you, and in the time it takes him to cross around the front of the car to the driver’s side, you take inventory of the interior. It’s a manual transmission—something your father once said was obsolete, except for car collectors and enthusiasts—which means that you wouldn’t be able to drive it, even if you tried. The car is pristine, so much so that you’re afraid to move. Two water bottles are in the cupholders, and it still smells brand new inside. There isn’t a speck of dirt or dust on the dashboard, nor on the floor mats. The leather seat is soft and there’s a control for seat warming and cooling on the control panel.

James climbs into the driver’s seat and shuts the door. He buckles up and you follow his lead, and then you sit back as he reverses the car out of the garage and onto a winding driveway that leads you around the front of the estate, then along the other side to a large gate with a guard house. You’d forgotten about the extensive security since the last time you’d been outside the Barnes Estate. Your father had handed over your driver’s license, along with his and your mother’s, before breakfast all those weeks ago, and there’d been a strange code word of some kind. It dawns on you as the guard opens the gate for you and James that you’d never gotten your license back.

“Where are we going?” you ask as James pulls onto the main road. It leads away from the estate and into the city.

“To get some real food,” he replies. His tone is gruff, and it feels like he’s on the verge of an angry outburst, so you slump back in your seat as he shifts gears and the car accelerates. The tension in the car is thick. You don’t want to be the one to deal with it, especially since he’s the one creating it.

After several minutes of watching the enormous mansions and the forests surrounding them pass by, you look over at James again. His expression, just like in the garage, reveals nothing, but you can tell that he’s more put-together than the last time you’d interacted, and it’s not just the tailored suit. His hair has been trimmed and styled, and he has an even dusting of stubble that frames his jawline nicely.

In the time since you’d learned you were engaged, James hasn’t said anything to you. You’ve heard him talking in the hallways as you wandered, but you haven’t wanted to be near him. This is the closest you’ve ever been. Your brief conversations so far tonight make up the majority of the words you’ve spoken to each other. His words from the bedroom echo in your head, until finally, you can’t help but blurt out your thoughts.

“Do you really not want to marry me?” you ask. Your voice sounds small and pathetic, and you hate it, but it’s too late now.

He glances over at you with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. “What do you mean?”

You sit up a little in the seat, though you keep your hands in your lap and you try not to move your feet, just in case there’s dirt on your shoes.

“I mean,” you say, watching him carefully for his reaction, “that when you came to get me upstairs, you said you didn’t want to marry me. Is that really true?”

“I never said that.” He shifts gears again as you near a stoplight, and the car slows.

“Yes, you did.”

“No,” he shifts again, his teeth now clenched, “I didn’t. I asked if it looked like I wanted to marry you, and you said it didn’t. But I never said I didn’t want to.”

Now you’re confused, and you frown at him, ignoring the obvious irritation in his voice. The car rolls to a stop behind a Ferrari blasting music out the open windows.

“So you do want to marry me?” you ask.

He sighs and drops his hand from the gear shift, then looks over at you. “Y/N, I’m not going to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do, so if this is you testing to see how I’ll treat you, then you have nothing to worry about. I’m not a monster.”

“It’s not. I just…” You stop, unsure of how to phrase what you’re feeling. It’s strange to be upset over a marriage you don’t even want, but for some reason, you are.

“What?”

“If you don’t want to marry me and I don’t want to marry you, then why are we going along with this?” you finally ask, settling for the bigger question than the one that’s truly nagging at you.

“Because we know that if we don’t, life will be hell,” he answers.

It’s the truth. You know it is, and you know it deep down. If the two of you refuse this marriage, your life will be worse than you could possibly imagine, and you’re fairly certain that your fathers will find a way to make it happen anyhow. They’re well-connected in every sphere of life, not just when it comes to drugs and weapons. Your father probably has a priest on his payroll.

The light turns green and James moves the car forward again, merging into the right lane almost immediately. He slows as you approach a valet stand outside an upscale bar you’ve never heard of. It’s not one of your father’s, which means it probably belongs to George Barnes.

Then again, you think as a uniformed man opens your door, maybe it belongs to James.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Barnes,” a valet on the other side of the car greets.

James hands him the keys. “You too, Tommy. Listen, don’t park it too far off. We’re not staying too long.”

The man nods and climbs into the driver’s seat as your own valet leads you away from the curb. James meets you next to the valet stand and offers you his arm, then heads towards the doors.

“What is this place?” you ask as he holds open the door for you.

“My friend’s bar,” James says.

Your stomach twists itself in knots as heavy club music starts to get louder. The bass rumbles in your chest and you dig your nails into his arm as you near a set of glossy black double doors. You haven’t been to a club in a long time. The last time you’d gone, you’d been dragged by a childhood acquaintance, but you’d spent most of the night alone after she’d ditched you for someone she met on the dance floor. You’re not particularly eager to relive that experience tonight, especially with the man you’re being forced to marry. Who’s to say he won’t ditch you for someone else right in front of you, just to rub it in your face? After all, he’d said it himself in the bedroom—you’ll do what you want and he’ll do what he wants. It’s the cards you’ve been dealt.

If these are the cards, then I’ve got a sucky hand.

“James—”

“Bucky.”

You stop and squint at him in the low light of the entrance hallway. The two bouncers in all-black suits stop with their hands on the door handles, ready to open them for you once you start walking again. The music pounds in your ears, so much so that you can feel your eardrums vibrating.

“What?” you ask, not sure you’d heard him correctly.

“Bucky,” repeats James, a little louder this time. “You should call me Bucky, if we’re going to be married.”

“Is that… a nickname?”

Even in the darkness, you can see him laugh, and a bashful, boyish smile spreads across his face. “My middle name is Buchanan. Steve used to tease me about it when we were kids, and he started calling me Bucky as a joke. It caught on.” He shrugs it off, but there’s a fondness in his voice when he speaks of his childhood friend, and it makes you smile just a little.

You loosen your grip on his arm. “Okay then. Bucky,” you add.

When Bucky steps forward again, the doors are pulled open, revealing a much more casual bar than you could’ve anticipated. Though it’s clean, it looks a little run down, and the heavy music fades into jazz piano as you step through the open doorway and into the large, open space. With almost cathedral-height ceilings, walnut floors and support pillars, and well-worn wooden booths and tables, the bar feels more homier than you’d expected. It’s clearly been well-hidden from the busy crowds of New York. Only a few patrons are scattered around the room, sitting in the booths or at two-top tables, but Bucky leads you to the wood, u-shaped bar that juts out into the room from the back wall. A single man stands behind it, drying glasses with a white bar towel. He smiles when he looks up and sees you approaching.

“Bucky,” he greets, and he reaches over the bar to pull Bucky in for a hug. It’s the first time you see Bucky smile—a real, full, genuine smile—and you watch in silence as he hugs his friend.

“Steve,” Bucky replies. Instantly, your brain starts connecting the dots. This is his childhood friend, the one who gave him his nickname.

“Tá sé go maith tú a fheiceáil.” Steve turns his attention to you, and you quickly look away from Bucky and at him. Your brain whirs as you try to place the language he’s just spoken. It’s not one you’ve heard before, which means none of your father’s men speak it, and neither do any of the Barneses.

“You must be Y/N.”

You nod and offer Steve a small, polite smile. You’re not sure how to act around Bucky’s friends. If they’re also part of the mob, it’s possible they’ll treat you even worse than George Barnes had after dinner, but a new, surprising voice in your head argues that Bucky would never be friends with someone like that.

“It’s okay,” reassures Bucky. He reaches out and touches your arm, gentler than he has all evening. “Steve’s a nice guy, and he knows about our family businesses. You can trust him.”

Steve looks between the two of you before picking up a glass and setting it right-side-up in front of you. “What’ll it be, Y/N?”

You glance at him, then at the wall of liquor behind him. After a moment, you list off a drink that’s not your favorite, but that you know you’ll be able to stomach no matter the circumstances. Steve nods in response before starting to make it.

Silently, Bucky takes one of the chairs at the bar, and you do the same. He sits with his arms folded on the counter. He’s still wearing his suit from dinner. You feel a little out of place in your fancy clothes, and you wonder if he feels the same.

Your drink is placed in front of you a moment later, and after Steve’s silent prompting, you take a sip. It’s delicious, and you can’t help but smile at him.

“Aha, I’ve still got it!” Steve cheers, and you laugh. He grins at you, a charming type of smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest. You feel a little sheepish at the intensity of his joy, and you fidget in your seat, then with your hair.

Beside you, Bucky rolls his eyes and tosses a round paper coaster at his friend. “Knock it off, Rogers,” he huffs. “Stop flirting with my girl. You’ve already got one of your own.”

You glance over when he calls you that, but you don’t say anything. There’s another weird feeling in your gut now. This one, unlike the one you’d had in the car or the fluttering feeling Steve had given you, you recognize immediately—pride. It feels good to have Bucky call you “his girl”, even if you barely know him. It’s strange, and the thought makes you squirm in your seat again. You drop your hand down to the bartop and take another sip of your drink, trying to quell the strange feelings inside of you.

What is going on with me? Why can’t I just feel normal about all of this? Is there even a normal way to feel about this?

“You hungry?” asks Bucky, and you nod when you realize he’s talking to you again.

“I make a mean twice-baked potato,” Steve says. He plants his hands on the bar to look between the two of you. “Whaddaya say, Y/N? You up for it?”

“Only if you put the jalapeños on the side this time, punk,” Bucky tells him before you can reply. He seems to remember himself a second later, however, because he looks over at you. “Unless, of course, you want them on top.”

You shrug, not wanting to upset anyone, and Steve groans.

“Come on, Y/N,” he says, and he smiles wide as he gestures around the almost-empty bar. “I’ve got all the time in the world to make your food exactly the way you want it. Don’t make me guess.”

“He’s bad at guessing,” Bucky chimes in.

“Terrible,” Steve adds, nodding earnestly.

Tentatively, you list off what you want, and Steve makes a note of everything on a notepad that seems to appear out of nowhere. Once he’s got your order down, he disappears through a door in the back wall. Before it closes, you catch a glimpse of a shining kitchen filled with stainless steel, and you wonder how many patrons come through the bar if Steve has what looks to be a full-sized kitchen in the back.

“You didn’t eat much at dinner, so I figured I’d bring you someplace that actually has good food,” Bucky says. He reaches across the bar to grab a bottle of beer Steve has left out, and he uses one hand to pry the top off.

You gape at him, too distracted by the blatant show of strength to properly process the very thoughtful thing he’s just said to you. “What?”

“I said that you didn’t eat much at dinner, so I figured—”

“You just pulled the top off like it was nothing. How did you do that?” You look around on Steve’s side of the bar for another bottle, hoping to try your luck. Maybe it’s some new kind of bottle that he’s trying out before it hits the market, or maybe Steve has bootleg beer with a different kind of cap.

Bucky is staring at you, seemingly just as confused as you. “With my arm.”

“With your arm?” you repeat. You’re certain that he’d used his hand to pry it off.

He stares at you for a second longer before the confusion disappears and is replaced with a glint of mischief in his eyes. It makes the shadows on his face melt away a little, and his blue irises seem bright and youthful again, entirely unlike a man who’s seen too much.

“My arm,” he reiterates, and then he pulls off the black glove you’d assumed to be part of his personal style. It’s not just for show, however, because he pulls it off to reveal a black metal hand with dull gold knuckles. Bucky continues, standing and shrugging off his jacket, then rolling up the sleeve of his button-down shirt. As he reveals more and more, you realize that the black metal continues, making up what would be his left arm.

No wonder it hurt when he grabbed me.

“It’s metal,” you dumbly say, and he snorts.

“Observant.”

You shake your head and look from his arm to meet his eyes. “You have a metal arm. How didn’t I know that?”

Bucky shrugs and drapes his jacket over the back of the chair. He leaves the glove on the bar where he’d first set it down. Once he’s seated again, he rolls up his other sleeve to match.

“Beats me. I figured everyone knew. My dad wasn’t subtle when he was bragging about the arm he had made for me when it first happened,” replies Bucky. He takes a sip of his beer, then sighs and sets it back down.

You don’t want to pity him, so you try your best to school your expression by taking a sip of your own drink.

“Was it an accident?” you ask after a minute has passed. He doesn’t reply right away, and you scramble to save the conversation. “You don’t have to tell me if you don��t want to.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen,” he says, and his voice is quieter than before.

You look back down at the drink in front of you. Twisting the glass around and around, you ask, “And it was an accident?”

Bucky takes another swig of his beer. “I was with my dad, working a job. I didn’t even realize I’d been injured until I woke up in the hospital, two weeks later, missing an arm. Apparently, falling shipping containers are heavy.”

You can’t help but curse. What he’s describing sounds horrible, but Bucky only laughs.

“That sounds about right, yeah. I’m lucky I had Steve around to keep me sane,” he tells you. “My friend Sam was a big help too, but he moved down to Louisiana a few years ago.”

“Steve seems like a good friend,” you agree. “They both do.”

You can feel Bucky staring at you now, and you take a sip of your drink while you wait for him to look away again. When he doesn’t, you glance in his direction.

“What?” you ask.

“What?”

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are!” you laugh, and you look at him fully this time. Bucky’s grinning, and you ball up a cocktail napkin and toss it at him.

“Okay, I was staring,” he admits, still smiling. “But I can’t help it. You’re pretty, and you’re nice, and you seem smart.”

You feel your cheeks grow warm at the compliment, and you look away. “You don’t have to say that. We’re already engaged.”

“I’m not saying it because we’re engaged. I’m saying it because it’s true.”

You don’t have a chance to reply before Steve comes out with two hot plates. He places them in front of you, joking briefly about giving you the wrong order, and it’s distraction enough that you sit up tall and smile wide. You push Bucky’s compliment out of your head as you chow down, groaning and moaning about the potatoes. They’re exactly what you need after the stressful dinner. Bucky was right—you hadn’t eaten much, and Steve’s cooking is delicious.

Once you’re full, you push your plate away and lean back in your chair. Steve grins at you before he goes back to counting the cash drawer. The other patrons have left already, leaving you, Steve, and Bucky alone in the bar.

“That was amazing,” you tell him for the hundredth time, and Steve chuckles.

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell mo bhean chéile—my wife—you said that, considering she still believes potatoes aren’t a meal.”

You notice the wedding band on his left hand as soon as he says it. Above it, also in silver, is a familiar ring. If you weren’t able to see the family crest, you would’ve thought it was the same as Bucky’s, but this ring has an eagle and a star engraved on it, rather than the wolf you’ve seen on Rebecca and Bucky’s rings.

“Potatoes are a meal!” you argue. You can tell that Steve has clocked you looking at his rings because he shifts his hand, instinctively blocking your view as he looks for your own ring. You’d taken your parent’s ring off the day you’d cried in the bathtub and you haven’t worn it since, but no one in Bucky’s family has replaced it with their own. It’s the first time since middle school that you haven’t worn a family ring, and you’d be lying if you said it was a weight off your shoulders. You’d thought it might be, but instead it just makes you feel naked.

Steve laughs and his posture relaxes. He stops hiding his rings from you when he realizes your hands are bare. “Well, whenever you meet her, you can have that argument with her, because I’ve already had it at least a dozen times.” He closes the drawer and fixes his eyes on Bucky, who’s just finishing his food. “Speaking of, when are you two coming over? I promised Peg I’d wait until Y/N had settled in to ask, and you seem settled enough to me.” He glances at you for the last part, and you look down at your empty plate.

“It’s not up to me,” answers Bucky. “We’ll come over whenever Y/N is ready. This is the first time we’ve been together since my dad dropped the bomb on us.”

Steve pauses, his hands on the tablet he’d set down before starting to count the night’s profits. “Wait. Really?”

You nod when he looks at you, suddenly self-conscious again, and you pull your hands into your lap. “I haven’t been the best house guest…”

“You’re not a guest, Y/N. It’s your home now, too,” Bucky interjects.

Reaching over the counter, Steve smacks the side of Bucky’s head. His accent is thick when he huffs, “Íosa Críost, you thick! You didn’t think to go talk to her? To see if she wanted to watch a movie? To see if she needed anything?”

Bucky stammers over in his seat, and you keep your head ducked to hide your smile. Clearly, Steve knows more about being married than Bucky does—most likely from experience, since he’s already mentioned his wife—and he isn’t afraid to tell his friend off for not looking out for your well-being.

“I’m sorry!” exclaims Bucky, ducking another hit. “I wasn’t thinking!”

“Like ifreann you weren’t!” Steve retreats and picks up the tablet with a huff, then looks at you. “Y/N, I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with him. He’s actually a nice guy when he’s not being stupid.”

“Stupid?” Bucky protests beside you.

“I wouldn’t have talked to him even if he’d tried,” you admit, finally looking up, “but it wouldn’t have hurt if he had.”

Steve nods, satisfied with your response. He leaves you a minute later when his phone rings. The wide smile on his face is enough to tell you who’s on the other end, but then he says her name as he walks away, the phone already held to his ear.

“So what’s with this place?” you ask. The quick change in subject is purposeful, and you hope that Bucky will take the bait.

Thankfully, he does. Bucky glances around before finishing off the last of his drink and setting the empty bottle closer to Steve’s side of the bar.

“Well, Steve wanted a place that we—and other people like us—could spend time without feeling like there was always a fight about to happen. We didn’t have that growing up, you know? And now that he’s in charge, he can do what he wants with his money. Everything’s filed properly, he doesn’t advertise, and all employees are paid above the table. If other people show up, then sure, they’re welcomed in, but they’re also fully vetted once Steve gets their IDs. Weapons aren’t allowed, and there’s no shop talk of any kind.”

“So it’s your little hideaway,” you say, propping your head up with one hand. The heaviness of the potatoes combined with the alcohol is starting to make you sleepy, and the emotional exhaustion from the night has started to weigh heavy on you, too.

He smiles a little. “Something like that.”

Bucky stands and rolls his sleeves back down, then pulls on his glove. He pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and sets it on the bar.

“Come on, doll. We should head home,” he says.

The warm feeling you’d felt when Bucky had called you his girl comes back, and you smile a little when he holds open his suit jacket for you. A little sheepish at the gesture, you slide off your seat and let him help you into the sleeves, then take Bucky’s hand when he offers it.

“Bye Steve!” you call, waving with your free hand.

Steve looks up from the other end of the bar, where he’s wiping down a counter with one hand and holding his phone with the other. He lets go of the rag to wave back.

Silently, Bucky leads you out to the front, where the valet already has his car pulled up. You’re not sure how they knew to have it ready, but you don’t dwell on it. Stranger things have happened in your world. Bucky tips the valets with another wad of cash before opening the passenger door and helping you in.

You fall asleep on the drive home. You don’t mean to, but Bucky turns on the radio a few minutes into the drive, and he lets the first station that comes on continue to play. The music is soft, and he drives so smoothly that it lulls you to sleep before you’re even fully out of the city.

When you wake, it’s because Bucky’s stubbed his toe on something, jostling you in his arms. He’s muttering curses under his breath and hobbling down the hallway, and though the jerking motion and his tightening grip isn’t the most comfortable for you at the moment, you keep your eyes closed and force yourself to keep your smile at bay. Bucky is a much sweeter guy than you’d first thought him to be, and it seems like he’s trying now to make up for lost time. You’d misjudged him at first; just like you, he has his own ways of dealing with the life forced on him by his parents, but he really is a gentleman underneath it all.

He carries you to your bedroom and carefully lays you on top of the covers. Then, as gently as possible, you feel him lift your foot and pry off the uncomfortable shoes Marta had picked out for you. Bucky stays totally silent as he takes the shoes off and sets them on the floor at the end of the bed. He pulls a thin blanket over you, one that you’re sure is just for decoration when the bed is made, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. You have to force yourself not to smile when he whispers,

“Goodnight, sleep tight.”

The door clicks shut as he closes it slowly, and you peek open an eye after a few seconds have passed. Your room is dark and empty. Silently, you smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, your eyes heavy. It’s been a long, exhausting evening, and you’re happy to be in bed. You fall asleep to the sound of spring rain on the estate windows and with Bucky’s jacket still wrapped around you.

Over the next few weeks, Bucky slowly enters your life in both big and small ways. He smiles at you over meals in the dining room and late night snacks in the kitchen. He drives you to the city to visit Steve, Peggy, and his other friends, and when he finds out that his father still has your license, Bucky argues with him for over an hour to get it back. Marta delivers your license to your room the very next day, along with a handwritten note that the dark blue Mercedes in the garage is there for your use. Sometimes, you wake up to a bouquet of flowers with another handwritten note. Sometimes it’s a text, and sometimes it’s a gift. Bucky develops a habit of purchasing anything you mention enjoying or even vaguely liking, and you eventually have to tell him to stop because he’s bought you so much that there’s nothing left to buy for yourself.

Bucky turns out to be a closer friend than anyone you’ve ever known. He’s kind, and funny, and intelligent, and he remembers all the little things about you that nobody else does. When you’re sick or feeling lonely, he’s attentive and his presence alone reminds you of all the good things in the world. He makes your days brighter, even the worst ones. You find yourself falling in love with him, much to your surprise. You admit this to him one day. He kisses you then, and he tells you that he’s been in love with you since the first trip you’d taken to Steve’s bar.

Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas roll around. New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, and Easter come and go. The Barnes’ grand celebrations for every holiday blur together as the months fly by, until eventually, it’s June and you’re standing in your room, staring at your reflection in the full-length mirror.

The wedding dress you’d picked out a few days after Christmas is just as beautiful as you remember it being. It fits you perfectly, thanks to the impeccable work of several tailors employed by Winnifred, and your hair and makeup are flawless as well. There’s no possible way you could’ve imagined how beautiful you look and feel on your wedding day.

Through the open window, you can hear a string quartet playing outside in the rose garden, where the ceremony is set up. Steve has already come by once to check on you at Bucky’s request, but both men are back downstairs. Bucky’s no doubt at the front of the garden with the priest—the one that you now know for certain is on your father’s payroll—and Steve is waiting with the rest of the wedding party. The only people remaining in your room are Marta, your mother, and Peggy.

You’ve grown to love Peggy more than any of your childhood friends. She didn’t grow up in the same world as you. She didn’t even grow up in the same country, and you love her all the more for it. She’s rational, cool-headed, and kind, though she’s not afraid to stand up for what’s right. On top of all that, she’s drop-dead gorgeous. It’s easy to see why Steve fell for her during his time in the military.

The quartet finishes the song and moves onto a new one, one that you recognize after only two notes. Your stomach drops and you close your eyes, gripping your bouquet tightly. It’s the song you’d been listening to the morning you’d found out about your engagement. You’d discovered it the night before, and you’d had it on repeat before going to sleep that night, then again that morning as you’d gotten ready. You’d even listened to it in the car on the drive from your parents’ estate.

Who added this to the playlist? Is this some kind of sick joke to them?

The same feeling of dread you’d felt that morning comes back, making your mouth dry and your head spin. You try to take a slow, deep breath to calm your nerves and block out the song, but it doesn’t work.

“Y/N?” Peggy asks.

You inhale sharply at the sound of her voice so close to you. She’d been texting Steve from near the window only moments before. You hadn’t thought that anyone would realize your distress, and you’d hoped to be able to collect yourself before it was noticeable. You hadn’t even sensed her coming closer.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you tell her, but your voice wavers and your lower lip quivers. You try to take another slow breath.

“What’s going on?” Marta asks. Her hand lands on your arm and you pull away, closing in yourself and pulling the bouquet tight against you.

Your mother’s scolding makes you feel like you’re a little kid again. “Careful, Y/N! You don’t want to ruin those flowers. We don’t have time to make another bouquet for you. George is already hounding your father about how soon after the ceremony you’ll be signing the certificate.”

Anger wells up in you at her thoughtless comment, and you open your eyes. She’s standing behind you in the main part of the bedroom, near the foot of your bed. Any guilt you might’ve felt over ruining the flowers is gone now, and you turn and chuck the bouquet at the carpet by her feet. It bounces once, then lays motionless in a heap of smashed petals and ribbons.

“Enough, Mother!” you shout.

Marta rushes to close the window so the guests in the garden won’t hear your outburst.

Your mother gapes at you, somewhat surprised, but she doesn’t budge. “Y/N, dear. What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” you yell, stepping closer. Your dress swishes as you walk, and you normally enjoy the sound, but you’re too furious to care how pleasing it is. “What are you doing? I am your only daughter! You should be treating me like a princess and worrying about how I’m feeling and what I need, but instead you’re too busy thinking about the damn flowers! I’m sick of you thinking of me like I’m an object you can sell, steal, and trade away whenever it’s most convenient! You and Dad are so obsessed with the timeline you’ve created for yourselves that you don’t even notice how much this has affected me! You didn’t even ask if this is what I wanted!”

She scoffs at you, and any trace of motherly care and concern has disappeared from her expression. Your mother is showing her true face—the mafia wife that has almost as much blood on her own hands as her husband does, if not more.

“It’s too late for that now, isn’t it?” she asks. She picks up her clutch from the end of your bed and steps closer until you're standing eye to eye. Her voice is patronizing and infuriating, and she continues, “It’s your wedding day, dearest, and you can’t back out now. We’ve made sure of it. Even James has agreed to the contract.”

Your anger wavers. “Contract?”

“Yes, the contract,” she repeats, smirking. Her cards are all on the table now, and she’s got a winning hand. You both know it.

There’s a malicious glint in her eye as she says, “It’s already in effect. It has been since we agreed on the marriage.”

“What contract? What are you talking about?” There’s a sinking feeling in your chest, like your heart has decided to drop into your stomach, then down to your feet and through the floor. Bucky hadn’t said anything to you about a contract, and you trusted him, but you certainly didn’t trust your parents anymore, nor did you trust George and Winnifred Barnes.

Your mother smiles, a sickeningly sweet smile that makes you want to puke. “That’s a conversation for another time. After all, it doesn’t even matter to you until James gets you pregnant.”

The alarm on your phone rings and you close your eyes, your hands trembling. You’d set that alarm to remind you when it was time to leave for the ceremony. Right on cue, the wedding planner knocks on the door to your bedroom.

“Y/N?” she calls, knocking again. “Are you ready?”

Slowly, you squat down and pick up the bouquet. It’s smashed on one side and the petals have fallen off of various flowers, but it’s mostly intact. It shakes as your hands tremble and tears well up in your eyes.

Marta appears in front of you, having pushed your mother out of the way, and over the ringing in your ears, you hear Peggy talking to the wedding planner. Somehow, you make it out to the ground floor of the estate, to the double doors that lead out to the rose garden. You’re dazed by your mother’s strange revelation. The sound of the alarm is still ringing in your ears. Peggy says something to you, but you can only stare straight ahead.

Your father is next to you then, as Peggy disappears through the doors and joins the rest of the wedding party. You see her glancing back at you, and whispering to the rest of the groomsmen and bridesmaids. Most of them are Bucky’s friends who have now become your own, and all of them look worried.

“Let’s go, princess,” your father says, and he pulls you forward by the arm.

Numbly, you follow his lead. Not even Bucky’s initially delighted expression shakes you out of your trance, but the way he rubs his thumb over your hands at the end of the aisle pulls you out of it just enough for you to lift your head and look around. You don’t remember walking to him, nor do you remember handing off your bouquet to Peggy, just like you’d practiced last night at the rehearsal.

“Y/N? Darling?” Bucky asks. He crouches and tilts his head slightly to try to catch your eyes. “You okay?”

“I—” Your mouth is still dry and you swallow, your eyes flitting from one place in the garden to another with no rhyme or reason. The world feels like it’s spinning and you clutch Bucky’s hands, unsure of what to do.

“Someone get her a chair,” Bucky orders, raising his voice enough that you flinch. He immediately starts murmuring reassurances to you, and he pulls you into his arms until he can lower you into a seat.

Someone fans you and a cool glass is pressed to your lips. You drink obediently, closing your eyes as the water helps the sandy feeling in your mouth abate just a little. When the water is gone, the glass is pulled away.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Bucky asks.

Slowly, carefully, you nod your head. He sighs in relief and when you open your eyes, he’s kneeling down in front of you. His shoulders are tense and his forehead is creased with worry. You’ve never seen him this stressed over anything and it makes you want to cry.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, heat flaming in your cheeks. You feel horrible. Bucky has been looking forward to the ceremony—he’d told you last night at the rehearsal dinner.

“It’s okay,” he quickly replies. He reaches forward and takes your hands, and you glance away from him to peek at the guests, your parents included, who are still watching you from their seats.

“Are you ready for this, or do you need a break?”

You look back at Bucky. “A break?”

“She’s fine,” your mother says, and you look over at her from your seat. She’s standing in the front row, her eyes fixated on the priest behind you. “They’re fine, Father. Y/N’s been a bit nervous all morning. Wedding day jitters, you know.”

“I—” You frown at her, still clutching Bucky’s hands. “That’s not what it is.” You look down at him and shake your head. “I’m not nervous to marry you.”

“I’m not nervous either,” he says with a small smile.

“Then shall we continue?” the priest asks.

You turn to shake your head at him. “No. I’m sorry, Father. I need to talk to Bucky—James—in private for just a minute. Is that alright?”

He smiles gently and nods. “Of course.”

There are more agitated murmurs from the crowd, but you ignore them as Peggy, Steve, and Bucky help you up and back down the aisle. When your mother moves to follow you, she’s blocked by Sam and Clint, another one of Bucky’s friends. She calls after you once, but you ignore her as Peggy helps you onto a bench inside, then leaves, closing the double doors behind herself. She’s handed back your bouquet, and you clutch it with both hands like it’s an anchor in the storm.

“Is everything okay?” Bucky asks. He stands near the door, and you can tell from the way he rolls his shoulders that he’s stressed. His prosthetic always bothers him more when he’s agitated, and you suddenly feel even worse about stopping the ceremony.

“Yes,” you say, but then you shake your head. “No, I’m sorry. Obviously, it’s not, or I wouldn’t have stopped everything. I’m sorry, Bucky, but I have to ask you something.”

“Okay…” There’s a wariness in his eyes, one that you loathe yourself for. You put it there, and you wish with all your might that your mother hadn’t told you what she did. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to do this.

“Did you sign a contract? With our parents?”

He frowns and his whole body grows very still. “A contract?”

You nod. “Yes.” With your hands still fisted tightly around the bouquet, you inhale deeply and add, “A contract about getting me pregnant.”

“What?” Bucky’s furious response is immediate. He shakes his head, his eyes searching your face for any sign that you might be making this up. “Y/N, what are you talking about?”

“Did you sign a contract agreeing to marry me, and agreeing that my parents get something after you get me pregnant?” The words make you sick to your stomach. You haven’t eaten anything all day, which doesn’t help, but the thought of Bucky agreeing to something so vile… It’s enough to make anyone nauseous.

He’s shaking his head at you again. “Why the hell would I sign anything like that? Do you really think I would do that?”

You shrug a little and look down at the bouquet. “My mother…”

“Darling…” Bucky sighs and comes closer, and he kneels down in front of you again, just like he had outside. All the fight and anger has left his voice. “I would never do anything like that. Not in a million years, and especially not to you. I love you.”

“She said you signed it before they’d even told me we were engaged,” you said, quiet now that he’s so close. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, to see what his face might be telling you that his words aren’t.

“Can you look at me? Please?”

Reluctantly, you lift your eyes from the flowers in your lap to meet Bucky’s eyes. They’re just as blue as the ribbons wrapped around the flower stems, a choice you’d specifically made without the wedding planner’s guidance. You’d wanted him to be your “something blue”, even if it felt a little cheesy.

“Do you want to marry me?” Bucky asks.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod. “Yes.”

“Do you believe me when I say I had nothing to do with that contract? That I didn’t know it existed?” he questions.

You nod again, tears forming in your eyes.

“And do you trust me to help you find a way to get rid of it, once all of this is over? Do you trust me to protect you?”

You nod for the third time, and Bucky takes both of your hands in his.

“Okay. Then let’s get married, and I swear to you that as soon as our honeymoon is over, the guys and I will start doing some digging.”

“What about me?” you ask, sniffling. You pull one of your hands away to dab at your eyes before the makeup can get too damaged by your tears.

“What about you?”

“Can I dig, too?”

Bucky chuckles and kisses your knuckles on the hand that he’s holding, and then he pulls himself up off the floor to sit beside you on the bench. He pulls you into a half-hug and you cling to him, sniffling and smiling as he rubs the your back and answers,

“You can do all the digging you want, doll. I’ll even hand you the shovel.”

Tá sé go maith tú a fheiceáil. = It’s good to see you.

Mo bhean chéile = My wife

Íosa Críost = Jesus Christ

Thick = A stupid person

Ifreann = Hell

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging my work so that others can enjoy it too.

I do not consent to have my work posted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere other than my personal tumblr, Patreon, or ao3 accounts, it has been reposted without my permission.

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If you would like to be added to my tags, please send me a message or an ask! I tag for Everything, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, and Peter Parker.

Forever: @aya-fay

Bucky Barnes: @lipstickandvibranium @valhalla-kristin @buckymcbuckbarnes

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benedictscanvas · 11 months

Text

saved you a seat - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

word count: 3.1k of pure fluff

a/n: no warnings for this one except language, obviously. i just wanted to imagine having a fluffy little coach trip with jamie tartt so i hope there are others out there who want to imagine the same. requests are SO open for jamie/roy/sam/ted please do send some ideas <3

---

You weren’t quite sure how you’d managed to engineer this situation, but you were worried that if you thought about it too hard, you might end up losing it. Somehow, on a coach to Amsterdam, you’d ended up wedged between a window and Jamie Tartt and despite that being the stuff of nightmares only about a year ago, now it was something you couldn’t have hoped for in advance.

“I said I’d save a seat for ya, didn’t I?” he’d claimed proudly when you shimmied past him to sit in the window seat. He’d been smiling hopefully at you as he patted it when you’d walked down the aisle of the coach. You’d thought you’d be sitting with Rebecca at the back until he’d tugged at your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

“To be totally transparent, I thought you were joking,” you murmured to him once you were settled, bag tucked underneath your seat, “You also said the same to Roy yesterday, and I heard you saying it to Sam this morning.”

“Yeah, but I was fuckin’ with them,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Besides, we have a whole conditioner campaign to plan, right? Now’s as good a time to start as any.”

You tried not to let your heart sink a little. Of course it was work-related. You’d just have to be happy with the grin he was sporting as he nudged your arm.

“You’re on,” you grinned back, then, with a show of boldness, “But only if you promise not to complain when I inevitably fall asleep on you later.”

If anything, his grin grows wider.

“Shoulder’s all yours, love. I’m told it’s pretty comfy.”

“Who’s told you that? Roy?”

He rolls his eyes, but it’s too fond. You busy yourself trying to manoeuvre your laptop out of your bag, but a hand on yours stops you in your tracks. When you look up, Jamie’s face is soft and he’s tucking your laptop away again.

“Relax. The coach’ll take hours yet. We can get comfy first, yeah?”

“You’re right,” you concede, shuffling into the back of your seat again with a content sigh, “Don’t know why I’m pretending to be eager to work.”

He laughs and you join in. You want to tell him he’s got a downright infectious laugh these days, because its lighter than ever and always filled with genuine happiness, but you don’t. Too much. Instead, you push up on the back of the seat in front of you to tap Dani urgently on the shoulder, then sit down quickly and turn a fake-reprimanding glance at Jamie.

“What is it, amigo?” he directs his question towards Jamie who’s looking incredulous, “Or are you playing a cheeky prank?”

You tut and sink further into your seat as you shake your head at Jamie. He begins to point at you, but Dani is already ruffling Jamie’s hair and turning back around as he mutters happily in Spanish. Jamie turns to you, brows furrowed.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, eh?”

You shrug, as playful as you can manage with your heart beating a little harder in your chest. He narrows his eyes at you, then settles into his seat, and you know he’s plotting revenge. You can’t wait.

---

It’s been an hour and a half, and you and Jamie have been going back and forth almost the entire time, the very idea of doing any work on his new ad campaign buried in favour of having fun. Jamie had snuck your phone from your lap and prank called Ted who was sat at the back of the bus. You’d then somehow managed to do the same with Jamie’s phone, but decided to send a rather inflammatory text to Jan Maas, which was followed by a half hour argument between the two men that was incredibly entertaining.

Most recently, Jamie had made a terrible noise putting his mouth to his elbow and blamed it on you, but luckily Sam had seen him do it and you’d been able to clear your name. It had been a stellar effort though, so you were giving it some time before you found something perfect to retaliate with.

“Can I ask y’ something?” Jamie spoke suddenly, but his voice was softer than you’d heard it on the journey so far. You turned to him and nodded encouragingly, “I was jus’ sat here wonderin’ - and please don’t take this the wrong way - but why y’ decided to come with us? I’m happy about it, ‘course I am, but-“

“I get it, Jamie,” you said quickly, because you could see how much he was struggling. It was heartwarming how earnest he was when he’d said he was happy you’d come with them though, and you were fighting an urge to lean in and kiss his cheek to stop his rambling, “I’m not exactly essential personnel for a trip to Amsterdam.”

“Fuck, that’s exactly what I was tryin’ not to sound like - wait, y’ don’t really think that do ya?”

“Jamie, seriously, stop worrying! It’s sweet but so unnecessary. Hannah, you know the one that usually handles socials? She couldn’t make it so Rebecca asked if I’d fill in. I’m not one to turn down a free trip with some of my favourite people.”

His smile was genuine until the last sentence, where it morphed into something cocky as he puffed his chest.

“You wanna name any of those favourite people of yours?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you pretended to think about it. God, it felt like it would be so easy to admit that you’d jumped at the chance to come because you jumped at any chance to spend time with Jamie these days, but you couldn’t. There were hours of this bus ride left to sit in awkward silence if he didn’t take it well.

“Well, Ted’s gotta be right up there,” you began, shifting in your seat to look around the bus, “Sam, of course, and, god, Colin is a must. Rebecca, obviously-“

“No one who’s last name might happen to rhyme with a part of the body, or somethin’?”

You scrunch up your face in fake confusion. It’s easy to imagine doing this forever, just playing pretend with Jamie Tartt for the rest of time, and you’ll play along as long as he lets you.

“Ohhh you mean Jan Maas? Rhymes with ass, very clever. Didn’t know you were such a poet.”

“I dabble, me,” he deadpans, but neither of you can keep it up as you dissolve into giggles. Jamie pulls his cap further down his forehead to hide just how much he’s cracking up and you tuck your face down - no need to have the rest of the bus trying to get in on the joke. When you both calmed down, he turned, looking back up at you from under his hat, “Very quick by the way. Jan Maas, ass. You’re good, you are.”

“You’ve only just noticed?” you asked incredulously, intent on teasing him just a step further, but he takes his hat off to look at you properly when he answers, running his hand once, twice through his hair first, of course.

“Nah,” he replied, voice that soft whisper that you’d come to crave, “Y’ wanna know when I noticed?”

You swallowed thickly, leaning into him in the same way he had, all conspiratorial and close.

“I dunno. Do I wanna know?”

Jamie ignored you and continued, eyes flitting from your face to a thread on his joggers he was picking at.

“It was when I’d just come back to Richmond an’ everyone was mad at me. Rightly so, I know. But I was sat in me car, havin’ lunch cause no one would eat with me yet. You were walking past with Rebecca going to lunch and you waved at me, with this mad bright smile on your face y’know?”

“I may have a vague memory of that,” you said, as if seeing him alone in his car hadn’t broken your heart at that time.

“An’ then the day after, when you ate in your car an’ invited me to join. I knew y’ were only doin’ it for me, but I didn’t care. I jus’ remember being so grateful. So, so grateful. That’s when I knew you were…”

He trailed off, but he was stuck staring at your face. You could feel the heat sparking down the length of your spine as he seemed to search your expression for something. His own was unreadable.

“…good?”

It was like you had snapped him out of a trance and somehow you wished you hadn’t said anything.

“Good, yeah, that’s what I mean,” he murmured, then seemed to let that cocky mask fall back into place, “You wanna tell me when you realised I was good now so I don’t just sit here like a prick? Or, let me guess, you’re still waiting for it to happen?”

Despite the teasing tone, you somehow knew this wasn’t an opportunity to joke. There was a newfound vulnerability in Jamie that you were always careful not to tread on; it was such a welcome change after all.

“Nope, I know exactly when it was. I walked past the boot room one day, a couple weeks before we had that first lunch I think, and you were making sure things were tidy enough for Will to sort. There was nobody to watch you do it, either. I just knew that you were a different Jamie. That you were…good.”

Good didn’t cut it at all. You’d sworn then and there that you were going to help him find his way at Richmond whatever it took, and eating lunch in your car just so that he could join you a few weeks later felt like a good start. It had been. As Jamie worked to gain the love of his teammates, he had you as a constant sounding board, willing lunch partner and occasional movie night holder. He wasn’t invited over often, not wanting to seem too eager, but he’d never turned you down.

Yes, that was the moment you’d realised he’d changed, but there had been a million moments since that had turned him into the first person that came to mind when he’d asked you for your favourite person on the bus.

Now he wasn’t meeting your eyes at all, fully trained on that thread he’d been picking at. You sighed and flicked his hand to stop him ruining his favourite pair, and he finally looked up at you, wide puppy eyes that always made you melt when they showed up.

“You really mean that?”

Rather than replying, you hold out your pinky to him and watch his smile grow as he twists his own around yours. You let it linger then lean in to kiss your own hand and gesture for him to do the same. He does it so tenderly you think you’re getting lightheaded.

“Every word,” you assure him, settling back into your seat and untangling your hands from each other, “Now that I’ve been so nice to you, think I can cash in that shoulder offer from earlier?”

It was easier to revert to the easy banter than continue down this sincere path. And even though it was only just beginning to get dark, you couldn’t look at him any longer. Maybe if you were resting on his shoulder, you could grin for a bit without him wondering what was wrong with you.

He patted his shoulder invitingly and you snuggled down into it, until your cheek was smushed into his jacket and you could smell the cologne radiating from him. You threaded an arm into the crook of his elbow without thinking, just because it was more comfortable, but when you moved to take it away, he rested his hand on yours to keep you there. That same hand then came up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, staying to cradle your head for a moment.

You held your breath.

He quickly thought better of leaving his hand there, squeezing your head for just a moment before dropping his arm back to his side.

It took a while to breathe naturally again, especially knowing he’d feel every painstaking inhale and exhale against him, and it took even longer for your eyes to close and to finally drift off.

---

When you woke up again, you had to squint as your eyes adjusted to the almost total darkness of the coach. It had to have been a couple of hours. You wiped your mouth to ensure you hadn’t drooled on your very kind seat partner then risked a glance up at him without moving your head too much.

He looked asleep. His chin was tucked against the crown of your head, and his whole body was turned into yours in a way it hadn’t been when you’d fallen asleep. There was nothing that would make you want to move and disturb the moment, except for the unfortunate cramp in your neck you were simply going to have to stretch out.

You tried to gently ease your head out from under his but his eyes fluttered open immediately as he looked at you in concern.

“Y’alright love?”

That voice. Huskier and broader than ever in its newly woken state. You smiled up at him and whispered back, noticing that the rest of the bus were either asleep or resting as you stretched your neck.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, sorry. You can have my shoulder now if you like, ‘s only fair.”

“Nah you’re alright. If you’re awake, I’m awake. What kind of seatmate would I be if I left you on your own, hm?”

“A normal one?” you offered, but he shook his head, holding a hand to his heart as if wounded.

“I will not have myself being described as anythin' but fuckin' extraordinary, please,” he insisted quietly, making you chuckle, “Did ya sleep well?”

“Very. Whoever told you that you have a comfy shoulder was annoyingly right.”

There was a note of jealousy in your tone that you didn’t expect to be there when you started talking. If Jamie noticed it, he didn’t say anything, even though you could have sworn you saw a smirk pass across his features.

“Well, I’ll let Colin know you agree with him,” he said matter-of-factly, and you wondered if he was telling you it was Colin on purpose. It was so difficult to second guess your every interaction with him, feelings getting stronger every minute you spent with him. Really, you were tired of it and tired in general and it was enough. Your usual caution had been left behind. You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe finally confess, but he was talking before you could begin.

“Actually, can I tell ya a secret?”

It took you a moment to recover from what you had been about to say and respond to him.

“Uh…yeah, of course. Anything, you know that.”

“I do, yeah. Yeah, that’s part of it actually,” he was so in his head, but he was looking at you like he had earlier, searching for something. Nowadays, he looked so soft all the time, but there was a selfish part of you that hoped maybe he was especially soft with you, “It’s about what we said earlier. I lied to ya, and I’ve been fuckin’ kickin’ meself for it ever since.”

“You lied?”

“Yeah. I said the day we had lunch in your car was when I realised you were good. That’s not true,” he admitted, as if he was saying something shameful, “I already knew you were good, way before I was done bein’ a full-time prick. Anyone could tell you were good.”

Your heart was hammering away in your chest, in your throat, in your ears.

“That day in the car park was actually when I realised you were just…fuckin’ incredible. Like, the most beautiful person I know. Not just fit, I knew you were fuckin’ fit, I’ve got eyes, but like- y’ were just somethin’ else. You are somethin’ else. Special, like.”

You felt frozen in your seat. It was hard to tell with how 'Jamie' the whole speech had been, but you were pretty sure there was a confession in there. It didn’t sound like something he’d say to any of his mates. Still, you had to be sure.

“Sorry, Jamie, I might be being thick here but are you saying you’re like…into me? Like, romantically?”

You cringed instantly at your choice of words but he didn’t falter. This time, when he laid his hand over yours, he kept it there, stroking a steady rhythm into the back of your hand.

“I’m saying I’m into you in like…all the ways y’ can be into someone. I’m fuckin’ mad about you, Y/N. The only one who doesn’t see it is you, but you fell asleep on me shoulder and I was in fuckin’ heaven so I’m telling ya. Look, I’m not expectin’ anything-“

“Well, you should. Expect things, I mean,” you cut him off, because you can’t go another second without reciprocating, “I thought you saved me a seat to talk about your conditioner campaign.”

He scoffed loudly then glanced around to check he hadn’t woken anyone as he lowered his voice again.

“I couldn’t give a shit about all that,” he said as firmly as he could whisper, “I give a shit about you. A lot of shits.”

You let out a breathy chuckle as you reply.

“God, I give so many shits about you, Jamie. Too many shits. Have done for fucking forever, I was just about to tell you.”

“What, before I did?” he said, making a face, “As if I’d let you steal my thunder.”

You take an opportunity and a boldness you can’t help but seize as you take his face in both hands and pull it towards yours until you’re both a breath apart. He closes his eyes and pushes towards you but you keep him just a moment away, stroking a trail along one of his eyelids.

“Well I think you’re fucking incredible too. Prick,” you mumble, without any venom. It sounds like the most loving pet name in the world, the way you utter it for his ears only.

“Yours,” he counters quietly, winding his arms around your waist until he can pull you fully onto his lap and you have to bite back a squeal. You both glance around for onlookers and find none, “Think the coast is clear, babe?”

“Crystal,” you insist, surging forward to press a searing kiss to his lips, gratified when he responds just as enthusiastically, pushing back into you, both hands clutching at you like you were about to disappear any moment.

There were still plenty of hours left on the coach, however, and you were content to stay exactly where you were as long as Jamie would let you.

And there was no chance of him letting you go anywhere.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you

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daisynik7 · 9 months

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cw: alcohol, reader is drunk, Nanami is a doting husband, kissing, suggestive dialogue, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, honey, good girl), use of daddy once

Author’s Note: Whoops, I’m afraid my Nanami brainrot is not over! Anyways, I got wine drunk yesterday and I was just imagining about how cute it would be for drunk!reader to come home to husband!Nanami. Enjoy! Banner by @/saradika.

You’ve got your arm draped across your best friend’s shoulders as she helps you stumble up the driveway to your house and towards the front door. She knocks with her free hand, waiting only several seconds before your husband answers, an amused grin on his face. “Thanks for bringing her home in one piece.”

She laughs, handing you off to him. “We almost found the bottom of the bottomless mimosas,” she jokes, waving farewell to the both of you, heading back to the car with the designated driver. Nanami watches them leave while you hang onto his shoulders for dear life.

He shuts the door behind him, carefully leading you into your home, bending down to remove your heels. You’re a wobbling mess, head hazy and body buzzing with intoxication from today’s brunch. One of infinite things you love about Nanami is how patient he is with you, even when you’re a useless lump, too uncoordinated to do the simplest things like this.

Now barefoot, you lean against him, using his entire body as support. He remains silent, a calm expression on his face, practically dragging you to the couch where he plops you down, kneeling before you to press the back of his hand to your cheek. He gives you a delicate smooch on the forehead before he stands up to walk to the kitchen. You hear the rushing sound of water from the faucet filling up a container and within seconds, he’s back, sitting beside you, handing you a full glass. “Drink this, sweetie.” You take it, tipping it into your mouth slowly until it’s half full and you’re properly quenched. He studies you in silence, scooching nearer with his hand resting on top of yours. “Are you alright?”

“I’m great,” you giggle, leaning towards him, lips grazing his with a crooked, goofy smile.

He laughs. “It looks like you had a lot of fun with your friends.” He sniffs, adding, “Your breath is very fruity.”

“Is it gross?” You frown at him, feigning embarrassment.

He shakes his head. “Not at all, honey. In fact, it’s very sweet.”

“You’re very sweet,” you respond, kissing him sloppily. Your hands grip to his t-shirt, tugging at the fabric to bring him closer to you.

Chuckling into your mouth, he pulls away, licking his lips. “Honey, you’re drunk.”

“No I’m not!” you exclaim. “I want you, baby! Don’t you want me?”

“Of course I want you. I always want you. But not like this. Let’s sober up first.”

“But I want it now!” you whine, being absolutely unbearable.

The smile on his face remains, ever so patient even when you’re being an annoying little shit. He nuzzles his nose to yours, cupping your cheek in his palm. “We’ll do it later, okay?” His voice lowers, mouth hot on your ear now. “Please, sweetheart? Can you be a good girl and listen to daddy?”

You groan, squeezing your legs together, grabbing him firmer. “Don’t tease me like that!”

He laughs again, placing another loving kiss on your forehead. “How about I make us some sandwiches and we watch a movie? Then, I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

You release him, sighing, still pretending to be disappointed when in fact, you’re more than satisfied. Thrilled beyond belief that you’re married to this incredible specimen of a man. “Fine. I guess that’s alright.”

#nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami fluff #kento nanami fluff #Nanami Kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #Nanami Kento x you #Nanami Kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami x reader #very self-indulgent nanami fic!#jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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daddyslilchickenfingers2 · 5 months

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Kinktober (reuploaded)

Car Sex (Matt)

Request: your writing makes me go wild. would you be able to write something about the reader and matt dating , so they get like zero privacy and fuck in the car the idea has been rotting my brain i fear/Matt takes you for a late-night drive and you end up fucking in the backseat/Earned It by The Weeknd plays on aux in Matt's car. Both Matt & y/n get in the mood, proceed to fuck in the car the rest of the night/Teasing Matt while he’s driving smut

Warnings: Sex, slight overstimulation, car sex, road head, fingering, cum eating, cute fluffy little moment at the end

Matt’s pov

I love living with my brothers, I really do, but I hate that they don’t know what privacy is. Y/n, my girlfriend of 3 years, lives with us as well, me and her have the master bedroom, which is the biggest. As much as I love my brothers, I don’t love when Nick literally steals Y/n away when we’re having movie nights or cuddling. And I most definitely fucking hate it when Chris ALWAYS ruins the mood, even if we lock the door he’ll pound on it until we open it. Sometimes he’ll even come into our room at night just to sleep next to me like when we were younger, thank god Y/n loves them both as much as I do, or else shit would be awkward.

Tonight I had planned for us to go see a movie at the drive-in, I even put down the seats in the back of her SUV and put blankets and squishmallows (Y/n’s favorite) as pillows back there to make it comfy. Nick and Chris had tried to invite themselves but I wasn’t going to let them ruin another one of my dates just because they think of Y/n as a little sister. Y/n and I hadn’t seen each other all day, we were both super busy so we were really looking forward to tonight but we definitely had an unexpected change of plans. When Y/n got back from her day with Madi she took a shower and got dressed in some comfy clothes, opting to blow dry her hair because it was cold outside.

I love seeing her like this when she only wears mascara and that damn strawberry lipgloss that I love so much along with some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. God, it was my favorite look on her, especially when the sweater she’d wear was mine. I was wearing basically the same thing but I had a backwards fitted on as well. It was starting to get dark so we decided to leave, the universe however, clearly didn’t want us to go on a fucking date because when we started driving on the freeway towards the drive-in theater, it started pouring, meaning all movies were now canceled. “Fuck, man! Why can’t I just take my girlfriend out on a decent date!” I yelled, hitting the steering wheel.

Y/n’s pov

I understand why Matt got mad, but honestly, there was no reason for him to be, I was already just enjoying being alone with him right now. “Babe it’s okay, we can still go up to that one private view. And we can watch something on my Macbook, it’s still in my car from yesterday. Let’s make the most of our alone time” I told him while rubbing his arm. Matt just nodded, clearly upset that his plan got ruined by the weather, “Plus I can finally makeout with you and not have to worry about getting interrupted” I added, half-joking.

Matt still looked upset so I moved my hand onto his thigh, I saw Matt quickly glance at me but neither of us said anything. I kept my hand there while I changed the playlist to a more relaxed and vibey one, occasionally tightening my grip on his thigh. I noticed the way that simple action got to him as he slowly started to get hard. We were almost to the overlook so I decided to start teasing Matt a bit, we hadn’t been able to have sex for a while so I moved my hand to rest over his growing hard-on. “Y/n” he said in a warning tone, “Matthew” I tested back with a smirk.

I started rubbing Matt over his sweatpants as we started driving up the little mountain when Earned It by The Weeknd started playing. This song seems to always get us in the mood so I decided to slip my hand into Matt’s sweatpants, lightly squeezing and rubbing his cock over his boxers. The car stopped and the music ended as Matt threw it in park and took the keys out of the ignition. He grabbed my wrist, pulling it out of his pants, and clicked the thing to unbuckle both of our seatbelts before he grabbed my jaw turning me to face him.

“Why are you always such a fucking tease” he asked in frustration, “Because I miss being able to touch my boyfriend whenever I want. I miss your cock Matty” I whined back as a response. Matt sighed, knowing I was right and he missed that too, but still pressed a very needy kiss to my lips. “Fuck I missed this side of you! Get in the back for me princess, we’re gonna take advantage of this alone time” he smirked as he kicked off his shoes. I did the same before hoping in the back through the center console area, Matt followed right after he took off his fitted.

“Hi” he giggled “Hi Matt” I giggled back, Matt looked at me with a smirk while biting his lip as he turned on the overhead light like they do in car videos. “Stop looking at me like that, you’re making me nervous” I blushed as he scooted closer to me, “I want you to get naked for me so I can finally feel your tight pussy around my cock again” he whispered in my ear before helping me take my hoodie off. We both took our sweats off as well, as well as my panties, Matt had pushed me so my back was against the door behind the driver’s side, sitting to the right of me.

He gripped my jaw, pulling me closer and mumbling, “God, I missed this” before smashing our lips together. Matt did this one thing that makes me literally go feral, he straddles me and essentially sits on my lap. I literally find it so fucking hot when he does that, especially when he’s the dominant one. I immediately moved one hand to start palming his hard cock, moving my kisses down his jaw to his neck where I sucked multiple hickies into the skin, probably more than I should’ve.

“That’s right baby, mark me up and claim me so everyone knows I’m yours” Matt groaned before pulling my head up to makeout again. This time the makeout was rough and wet, full of clashing teeth and needy tongues. Moans were exchanged between each other’s mouths until Matt pulled away, due to me starting to jerk him off over his boxers. “Babe don’t d-do that, you’re gonna make me cum before I can even get inside of you” he mumbled before moving us to lay down. “Then take your boxers off and fuck me already, I need it so bad Matty” I whined in frustration, making him laugh as we moved so I was laying down.

“Mhm I forgot how bossy you can be, I’ve missed it but I gotta stretch you out first babe” he said while hovering over me, slipping his right hand between our bodies. He ran his fingers through my folds, “Who got you this wet baby” he teased cockily as he brought up his shiny wet fingers. “You did! You did Matt, missed your cock so much” I whined before he shoved those two fingers into my mouth, making me taste myself. “Suck” he demanded, causing me to moan around his fingers, “That’s right baby, make those fingers nice and wet for me, even though you don’t really need to” he added, smirking at me.

Once Matt deemed my fingers wet enough, he stuck them both into me, groaning at how I could barely take his two fingers. After a couple of minutes of stretching me out I had to stop him, “Matt, I think I’m stretched out enough and if you don’t stop I’m going to end up cumming on your fingers instead of your cock” I whined. “Alright” is all he replied with, taking his fingers out and putting them in his mouth “Mmm fuck, I love the way you taste” he added before pulling down his boxers.

Matt leaned down to start sucking hickies onto my boobs as he eased himself into me but I wasn’t here for slow sex. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer so his cock slammed into me “Shit baby, you’re so tight” he groaned. Matt started to slowly thrust into me, letting me get used to his size, “Matty please stop being gentle, need you to really fuck me!” I whimpered out. That was all Matt needed to hear before he ruthlessly started pounding into me. It’s a good thing nobody really knows about this place because if anyone came up here they’d definitely know we were having sex.

The car was shaking, windows were fogged up, and I’m sure our lewd moaning could be heard from outside of the car. I pulled Matt’s head away from my neck, where he was leaving lots of hickies to match his neck, and placed our lips together. I started sucking on Matt’s tongue and running my tongue across the roof of his mouth, two things that drive him absolutely insane. He let out a deep, throaty groan as his left arm, my favorite because of the tattoos, came up to start toying with my nipples, pinching them and rolling them between his fingers.

“Babe— FUCK- pl-please choke me! I’m so close, I just need a little bit more” I moaned as we pulled apart, one of my hands was scratching down Matt’s back while the other was tightly gripping his hair. “Yeah? Want me to choke you so you can cum for me? Gonna cum on my cock while I fill you up?” he rambled out between grunts. His left hand wrapped tightly around my throat, applying just the right amount of pressure as Matt’s thrusts got both faster and harder.

“Shit! Matt, cum with me!” I moaned right before I came hard around his cock. After a few more thrusts, Matt let out an animalistic growl as he shot his load into me. I didn’t even have time to calm down from cumming when Matt did something he’s never done before. He pulled out and immediately went down and started eating me out as both of our cum oozed out of me, he’s literally never eaten me out after cumming in me before. And as amazing as this felt I was already feeling overstimulated, considering I didn’t get to come down from my first high.

Matt’s Pov

I missed eating Y/n out so much that when we both finally came I couldn’t control myself, she hadn’t even caught her breath before I went down on her. Usually, I would have never even thought about eating Y/n out after cumming in her, I always do it before we fuck, but today I was just in the moment. It honestly might sound disgusting, but my own cum tastes pretty good, and mixed with hers it’s just 10x better. “Fuck— Matt! M-Matt, stop I’m too sen-sensitive!” Y/n moaned about me as she pulled on my hair and kept trying to wriggle away.

I was in such a daze right now that I got fed up with her continuous moving. I slapped Y/n’s thigh pretty hard, a lot harder than I intended anyway, and pulled away for a second. “Y/n, stop fucking moving! I’m finally getting to give my sexy ass girlfriend head and I’m not stopping!” I growled out. Grabbing her thighs, I held them down as I started sucking our cum out of her pussy before I started fucking it with my tongue.

Y/n pulled my hair as I was sucking on her clit, causing me to groan against her. “Mhm Matt I’m gonna cum again— FUCK!” she cried out as she came all over my face. I let her actually catch her breath and come down from her high this time while I put my boxers and sweats back on since we needed to go home soon. It was now about 2:45am and I was exhausted, “I love you so much Y/n, I missed doing this” I said right before I softly kissed her, helping her put her panties back on.

“God, that was so hot babe! I totally wasn’t expecting you to do that” she said, still in shock. I felt myself slowly starting to get hard again while I put my shirt back on, helping Y/n/n get dressed. I gave her another soft kiss before climbing back into the front, offering Y/n my hand so she could do the same before putting my hat back on. “Are you ready to go back home princess?” I asked softly, placing a short kiss on her lips with a smile. “Mmm, I dunno. I think I need another kiss” Y/n replied softly, the only sound to be heard was the pitter-patter of the rain against the SUV.

We shared a few more soft kisses, smiling into them, but I had to pull away before we started making out again. “All better?” I asked, getting a hum back as an answer before I started driving. “Hey Matty, are you still hard?” Y/n pouted, “Uhh ye-yeah, don’t worry about it though. You just looked so hot and fucked out after I ate you out that I got hard again. It’s not a problem” I nervously replied back, not wanting her to think it wasn’t good enough.

Before I knew it, Y/n had her hand in my sweats and was teasingly rubbing my cock. “Babe-“ I started but Y/n cut me off, “You’re gonna say ‘you don’t have to do that’ and I know, but I want to” she said in a dominating tone. I just stayed quiet, knowing I wouldn’t win this fight. I was at a stop light when Y/n moved to lean over the center console and pulled my dick out making my breath hitch at both her cold hand and the air. I was at a loss for words as I’ve never gotten road head before and Y/n usually isn’t this bold or dominating.

“Y/n/n, what are you doing?” I asked in a panic as she spit on my cock, spreading it and the precum across my throbbing cock. “Shut up and drive Matthew” she said before taking my tip into her mouth. Unexpectedly, she deepthroated me causing my grip on the wheel to tighten and my breathing to pick up. Y/n started to hollow out her cheeks, creating a tight suction around my cock as she moved back up to suck on the head again. She started humming around my cock causing me to whimper as I tried to maintain focus on the road, which thankfully was empty.

“You like that, don’t you Matty” she asked in a seductive voice before going back to sucking me off, “Y-Yeah, but it’s- fuck- it’s hard to focus on the road when you’re doing that” I whined back. “B-But don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop!” I added as I was getting closer to cumming. Thankfully we had just stopped at another red light, I pushed her head all the way down on my cock, causing her to gag and holding it there while I came down her throat. “Shit— So good for me baby! Fuck, just like that!” I groaned loudly as she swirled her tongue around the tip before pulling off with a pop.

Y/n swallowed my cum before tucking my, now soft, dick back into my pants. “The lights green Matty” she laughed, pulling me out of my trance, “Huh? Oh shit” I said when I realized the was, in fact, now green. The rest of the way home, we sat in a comfortable silence and held hands on the center console. When we pulled up into the driveway, I got out and rushed to the other side to open Y/n’s door. What I didn’t expect was for her to take off my hat and grab me by the collar of my shirt before kissing me in the pouring rain.

As cheesy as it sounds, it was like a scene straight out of a movie, us standing there kissing while our hair and clothes got wet, stupidly smiling into the kiss. Unfortunately, unlike the movies, we got interrupted after like 3 or 4 minutes by none other than, you guessed it! Nicolas Sturniolo, “Can you guys stop fucking making out and come inside? It’s late, you were supposed to be back hours ago!” both me and Y/n let out a groan before walking inside. “Sorry dad, we got busy” Y/n joked, “I am NOT your father, this isn’t fucking Star Wars” Nick replied dramatically. As expected, we found Chris in our room on his phone.

“Out” is all I said while rolling my eyes, “And a hello to you too Matthew” he replied sarcastically, finally looking up at us. “Why are you wet?” he asked but Y/n just grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the door. “I’m cold and want to change, get out or I’ll suck Matt’s dick again in front of you” she said shoving him out. “Again!?” both my brothers questioned, “Yeah, again! Deadass had to fuck my girlfriend in the car on a mountain because you two fuckers don’t give us any privacy!” I yelled at them slamming and locking the door. Y/n just giggled, pulling me to our closet to get changed before we laid down. Finally getting to cuddle and have the rest of the day to ourselves without any annoying distractions.

#matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplet smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo triplets imagine #smut #sturniolo fanfic

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mj0702 · 4 months

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The other Bronze – Part 2

For my Bubs and @cyclingbigirl who demanded a part 2

Keira woke the next morning, you draped half over her body. Your right leg was across her lower half, your face was laying on her shoulders, your right arm was over her chest, gripping onto Keiras left sleeve. As carefully as she could, she fished her phone, making a selfie of you and her. She saw that she had 6 unread messages from Lucy, asking about her little sister and if everything was alright. The last message not even 15 Minutes old, so Keira decided to just respond with the picture. A minute later her phone vibrated again

Lucy: “Someone is cuddley”

Keira chuckled and texted back “Aren't all Bronzes cuddley around me?”

Lucy: “My Brother too, Keira?! Seriously? Don't you have any shame?”

Keira: “Maybe ;)”

Lucy: “Kinda disturbing, but whatever... she okay? You okay?”

Keira: “She misses you – a lot... just a fair warning.. she's not to keen on Ona, so keep their time spent together to a minimum in the beginning”

Lucy: “She doesn't even know Ona... what is her fucking Problem?��

Keira: “Language, Lucia... she doesn't really have a Problem. You know she always struggled with Change – she feels guilty for our breakup and just needs time to get used to you dating again”

Lucy: “I'm sorry... not only for the swearing – I think I didn't realized just how much it affected her... still affects her... thank you for watching out for her too, Kei... it really means the world to me”

Keira: “No need to thank me, Lucy... you know I love her just as much – so... brunch?”

Lucy: “You think you can get her up and presentable in an hour?”

Keira: “Oh please – I tell you the same as her yesterday... I'm not you – I'm not a push-over”

Lucy: “Oi!! I'm not a push-over”

Keira: “With her you always were... and still are”

Lucy: “One Hour starts now, Walsh... tick tock”

Keira laughed lightly, not even bother to respond, before she started to softly stroke over the younger Bronzes face.

“Wakey wakey” she whispered in your ear. Your nose scrunched up and you pressed your Face deeper into Keiras shoulder.

“Come on, Bitsy.. time for brunch” the older Woman said smiling, knowing that the promise of Food always gets the Bronze women going. Food and Caffeine. Your nose scrunched up again, but at least your head moves a little bit, looking sleepily at Keira.

“Breakfast?” you ask, your Voice thick with sleep.

“As soon as you up, showered and presentable” the older woman smiled.

“Noooo...” you whined sleepily, your head laying back on her shoulder.

“Yes” she said in the same tone as you “Your sister said you won't be presentable in an Hour... you really want to prove her right??”

Keira also knew, like the whole world does that the Bronze Family was highly competitive. You were up in a flash and a minute later Keira heard the Shower going. The older Woman laughed loudly, standing up herself, walking into the Kitchen starting on the Coffee.

15 Minutes later the youngest Bronze emerged from the Bathroom just covered in a Towel “Kei?? Clothes? Please?”

“I bet your Sister would be so happy to see you parading through town just covered by a short Towel ” Keira laughed “Here” she pushed a cup of Coffee in your Hands before walking back to her Bedroom looking for some Clothes.

She came back with a white T-shirt and some of her kit shorts “Up to wear my number for a change?” She smirked at you.

“Replacing the old Bronze with the newer, younger, sexier Model, are we?” you smirk back, but grab the offered shorts nonetheless.

45 Minutes later, Keira and y/n stood outside the little Place, Alexia mentioned the other day, waiting for the Rest of the Girls to arrive.

“Gosh she got so slow since she hit the 30” you rolled her eyes as your Sister obviously was late. Keira burst out laughing next to you.

“I don't think it has anything to do with her age...” she smirked, waiting for you to catch on. You look at her confused, until you realized what she implied, gagging loudly. The older woman laughing again loudly.

“You're her ex, you shouldn't talk about her having sex so easily... especially NOT with me” you gagged again.

“Who's having Sex?” a voice behind you asked, startling you.

“Speak of the Devil” you mumbled before turning around, your facial expression neutral “You're glowing... disgusting”

“Excuse me?” your Sister taken aback by your “greeting”

Keira just keeps on laughing, her hands on her sides, as she bends over trying to control herself. “You heard me, Arse Biscuits” you grumbled.

“Oi” your Sister said upset, taking a step towards you “watch your gob, wee shite”

Keira sensed that the two of you start to push each other so she interfered, knowing Ona – who arrived with your Sister – didn't know how to handle the two of you in situations like this.

“Both of you... take a step back” Keira said sharply. You and your Sister not reacting, staring at each other. You were so close to each other that your noses were nearly touching - Keira firmly said “Now!”

Lucy and you snapped out of it and you both took a step backwards. Keira looked at Ona, who stood there with a shocked Face “Don't worry... normal sibling behaviour between them – you just need to know when to intervene. And you need to be strict about it, because they're both hot headed and stubborn” she smiled.

“Okay” Ona said, her voice unsure, looking from Lucy to you and back.

“You'll get used to it” Keira chuckled and patted Onas back.

“You calm again?” Keira asked the two Bronze sisters

“Yes” both of them mumbled ashamed

“Good... then let's go inside, I need something to eat” Keira said, leading the Way.

Just as you all sat down, Mapí, Alexia, Ingrid, Patri and Pina joined the Group, all squishing themselves around the small table. Since the table was originally for four People and now there are nine, you got shoved around until you ended up getting placed on Lucys lap by Mapí, claiming she reserved the seat you were sitting on before you even arrived.

Lucy tried to shove you off her lap just for you to look at her with puppy eyes holding onto her shoulder “There no seats left”. Your Sister groaned, but laid her arm around your back

“The things I let you do” she rolled her eyes, but you could see a smile tugging at the corner of her Mouth.

“Love you too, Luce” you mumbled quietly

She squeezed your Side lovingly, before joining the Conversation at the Table, while you just looked around the small Place, taking in the Atmosphere – the Conversation was in Spanish anyway, so it was not like you could follow it.

“Cariño?” Alexia looked at you expectantly as you looked at her confused.

“Yes?”

“Did you hear what I said?” the Barca captain looked amused

“No?” you admitted ashamed.

Alexia laughed before repeating her question “I asked for how long you're staying”.

“Oh... Mum said I can stay until Lucy gets tired of me...” you shrugged your Shoulders

Your Sister grabbed her Phone grinning “Wait, let me get an Uber for you”

“KEIRAAAA!!!” you yelled down the Table “LUCY IS MEAN AGAIN!!!!”

“Lucy!!” Keira scolded your Sister.

Lucy looked at you “You little backstabbing...”

Before she was able to finish you grinned wickedly, shouting again “KEIRA!!! She's calling me bad names”

“LUCIA!” Keira warned and Lucy knew it's getting to a point were she was in serious trouble.

“I didn't do anything!!!!” she defended herself annoyed.

Alexia just starred at the two of you, as you wore a shit eating grin your Sister looking like a kicked puppy, Mapí high-fiving you over Ingrid.

“You two are really children, aren't you?” the Barca captain asked amused.

“She brings out the worst in me” you grinned, taking your Sisters head into a headlock “Noogie!!” you laughed.

Lucy hugged your stomach, standing up, lifting you in Process, swearing at you, while you locking your legs around her waist. You didn't let go of her Head, laughing loudly as Lucy began to spin herself to get rid of you.

Meanwhile, Keira rolled her Eyes then looked at Ona “Now you should interfere... otherwise they will take the whole place down rough housing”

Ona looked at her shocked “Me?”

Keira grinned “Yeah you... they're your Problem now... welcome to the Bronze Family”

Mapí started to cheer you on while Ingrid tried to keep her in her seat so she wouldn't jump on Lucy to help you win. Ona tried to get your and Lucys attention, but it was no use, since she was still to reserved about you. Lucy managed to get you to let go of her, now having you in a light headlock. “Dear bloody Christ” Keira swore under her breath, turning to Ona “Watch and learn”

The Englishwoman stood up, walked over to the wrestling pair of Sisters and just grabbed both of you by the Ear before dragging you outside. Both of you stumble after Keira begging her to let go, but in secret you knew better that your plea would fall on deaf ears. Keira lead you outside the small restaurant, coming to a scattered halt outside.

“Are you two actually completely bloody mad??” she scolded the Sisters

“Sorry” you mumble and looked to the ground embarrassed

“You're going to be sorry, y/n Bronze... Mapí won't be the only one doing laps today” Keira said angry before turning to Lucy “And you... don't encourage her behaviour... you're the older one – you should be the grown up”.

Lucy looked guilty and started do fiddle with her fingers “I know... but she started it”

“Did NOT” you immediately exclaimed.

“Quiet.. both of you” Keira said sternly “I don't care who started it... we're in public.. what if Fans take pictures or god forbid a Video... and just as a small information, Lucia... Your new Girlfriend is very taken aback of your behaviour right now... I mean I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. I knew the two of you beforehand and knew your Actions, but she doesn't... I know you genuinely love each other and it's your weird language of love rough housing around, throwing insults at each other, but Ona can't understand it.. so either both of you pull yourself together OR I'm going to make sure the two of you will only have supervised visits – supervised by me”.

Both of you looked very guilty, not knowing what to say.

“Are we clear?” Keira hissed out at your silence.

“Crystal” Lucy and you said simultaneously.

“Good” the other Woman nodded.

“Do I really need to run laps?” you asked carefully, shuffling your feet.

“Yes” Keira said strict “But don't worry, you'll be in good company... Mapí and your Sister will join you”

“I'm doing what?” Lucy looking at Keira confused.

“You really didn't think that I punish her and you'd walk, did you?” Keira raised an eyebrow.

“You can't make me do Laps” Lucy said.

“True.. I can't.. but Alexia can and I'm VERY certain that she's on my side this Time” Keira smirked wickedly, before rentering the small Restaurant.

You looked at your Sister “How fucked are we?”

“Very...” Lucy sighed out “When she really involves Ale, than we're very VERY fucked”

“We could bolt?” you suggested

“You can... I need to be at Training at 3pm... it's my Job” your Sister shrugged “I can say you just bolted, when I didn't look”

“Naah” you smiled “We survived angry Keira before... Tobronzher”

Your sister laughed “Still the most stupid word you ever came up with... it sounds nothing like together”

“You still understood” you shrugged your shoulders

“I should talk to Ona” Lucy said contemplative.

“I really didn't want to cause trouble Luce” you said apologetically

“I know... and you didn't really.. I should have talked to her beforehand... our bond is special and Keira was right... she doesn't know how the two of us work...” your Sister said encouraging. You just hummed.

“Why don't you like her?” Lucy asked softly.

“I don't know her...” you said reflecting “... so I don't know if I like her or not”.

“You didn't even gave her a Chance” your Sister said, but it wasn't accusing or angry – it was simply a fact.

“When Luce? When did I had a chance to get to know her? Yesterday when I walked in on you? Or yesterday evening, when we sat like... 15 Minutes at the same Table, where you choose to drift off to your own World with her, which is okay, really.... or today, where we sat like half an hour together and all of you started speaking Spanish – even you – and I starred at the Wall? You didn't really put up an effort to introduce us too, Luce... you called me Devils Spawn the first Time we met... probably freaked her out” you said, shrugging your Shoulders sadly.

Lucy realized that you were right “I'm sorry.. I'm sorry for not realizing how stupid I acted.... I'm going to make it up to you, I promise”

“I'm not the one you have to make up anything... I know you my whole life... I know you... but you should probably talk to her” you said.

“Dinner tonight... only the three of us?” your Sister asked hopefully.

“You... should talk to her first... if that's okay for her” you said carefully.

“I know I’m going to sound like an egotistical asshole in a second, but... you're my SISTER... you will always come first...” your Sister said and pulled you into a tight hug.

You hugged her back and mumbled into her shoulder “But she's your girlfriend...”

“She is... but your feelings will always be important to me... so if she says no, which she won't, I know she won't, than that's one thing... but if YOU say no... than that would really hurt” Lucy said, not letting go of you.

“I'm not saying no... but.. I need time?” you said carefully “I need time to process the whole situation...”

“That's okay... you want me to talk to Keira if you can stay at hers? Or maybe Alexia” your Sister offered.

“I'm not staying with the Scary Woman” you exclaimed shocked.

Lucy laughed out loudly “She's a big softie... she acts all scary when she's mad or on the pitch... but in private... mushball... oh... and she has a girlfriend, so you don't have to be scared she would take advantage of you... you will leave Barcelona still a virgin...”

“Oh please... THAT ship sunk long time ago” you mumbled and rolled your Eyes.

“EXCUSE ME??” your Sister screeched out surprised.

“Nothing” you answer quickly and try to push passed her.

Lucy grabbed your Arm, making you look at her “Who? When? Where? Why?”.

You knew it was no use in lying, so you answered reluctantly “Won't tell you... my Birthday... very classical in a bed... because it felt right?”.

Lucy pinched the bridge of her nose “Please tell me you were careful, used protection and you're definitely not pregnant”.

You looked at her with a shocked impression, before recovering “This... Person... wasn't... a dude?” you said carefully, not knowing how your Sister would react.

“A girl?” Lucy asked surprised. You nodded, but didn't meet her eye. “Hey” Lucy grabbed your chin gently and make you look at her “it's okay.. I mean... I'm gay... Publicly gay”

“I just... never told anyone” you mumbled ashamed.

“I feel honoured you told me, Bubs... did she... look after you?” your Sister asked carefully, knowing this wasn't really a Topic you should discuss in Public.

“Still is...” you admitted softly, started to play with the hem of Keiras shorts, a soft blush covering your cheeks.

“Good...” your Sister said, hugging you again before pulling back looking at you shocked “Oh my God... it wasn't Keira, was it??”

“What?” you looked at her confused

“Was it Keira?! The one who... you know”

“Oh my bloody God NO... god you're disgusting! NO!! That's wrong on SO many levels” you exclaim shocked.

“I KNOW it would be wrong... Just the way you said that the person was still taking care of you and you started to play with your shorts, which are actually Kei's shorts... so...” your Sister stuttered.

“Did you actually just listened to yourself?! I wear Keiras shorts, because I slept AT hers with my clothes still at your place...”

“Oh god... that was like a major shocking confusion just now... We should go eat something” your sister sighed out relived.

“You better not bring that up again.. that was just SO wrong” you shake your head.

“Do I know this person?” Lucy smirked as she held the door open for you

“Drop it, Lucia” you said annoyed but with a smile on your face

“So that's a Yes then” she grinned back at you, walking inside after you

“I said drop it... I won't tell you” you smirked

The two of you made your way back inside, immediately getting spotted by Keira, Alexia and Ona. You just sat down, you on Lucys Lap again and started to grab some Breakfast stuff. Keira smiled slightly before returning to eat her Cereal with Yoghurt and Fruit, while Alexia and Ona look at you baffled.

“What happened with the two of you?” Alexia asked confused

“What do you mean?” you mumble, chewing on a piece of Toast with tomato on it which your Sister offered you

“Stop talking with your mouth full, Y/n” Keira scolded you

“Like.. 10 minutes ago, you were basically pulling each others hair, nearly biting and now you're sitting here like nothing happened” Mapí looked at you puzzled.

“That... was 10 minutes ago?” you answered and looked like you didn't see a problem

“Again... welcome to the Bronze Family” Keira smiled at the Spaniards “One moment they're at each others throats, next they share food”

“You know what their problem is?” you ask your Sister confused

“No... on the other Hand I don't care” she shrugged her shoulders, pushing more food in front of you while eating the slightly healthier version of brunch.

After all of you finished your food you left the small restaurant all walking roughly in the same direction before it was time to go separate ways.

“See you later” Alexia said smiling before turning to Mapí “Want to run your laps before or after training?”

“You were serious about that?” the younger player exclaimed, her eyes growing big.

“When did I ever joked about you doing laps?” Alexia said, pulling an eyebrow up

“After, if that's okay” Mapí mumbled defeated, her head hung low

“Don't worry, Mapí... you won't be alone... Lucy and Y/n will join you” Keira smiled wickedly

“I think it's a little unfair that young, unfit1 me needs to keep up with world class players... Lucy can do my laps too...” you said innocently

“Nice try” Keira looked at you impressed “But no”

“Aaaawww maaaan” you groaned out

“If I need to run, you will too” your Sister growled

“Then it's settled” Alexia said grinning “The three of you, laps after training”

Lucy, Ona and you started to walk in the direction of Lucys apartment as you nudged her side

“Why do we want to run after training? Isn't it counterproductive to run when you're already tired and sweaty?”

“Theoretically it is a bad decision, because we’re already tired.... practically... we can use it as part of recovery AND it's a little cooler later in the afternoon...” your sister explained, while smiling slightly.

“Ah...” you say understanding “And how many laps do we need to run?”

Lucy started laughing “If Alexia is gracious maybe five”

“WHAT? FIVE?” you shriek and look at your sister shocked, which caused even Ona to chuckle

“Bubs... Alexia can make Mapí and I run... she can't make you run” Lucy winked at you

“Then why am I running laps with you and Mapí?” you looked at her like she’s growing a second head.

“Because you pissed off Keira?!” your Sister provided an answer

“Ah... yeah... I forgot about that” you said defeated

As you arrived the apartment, Ona wanted to say goodbye but got pulled inside by Lucy while you make your way to the kitchen.

“We need to talk” Lucy mumbled to her girlfriend

“¿Estás rompiendo conmigo?” Ona said sadly

“¿qué? no claro que no!!!” Lucy exclaimed shocked

Ona just shrugged her shoulders and looked up at Lucy sadly. Lucy took a step closer to the younger catalan woman taking her face in her hands.

“¿Por qué crees que rompería contigo?” your sister asked her girlfriend softly

“Necesitamos hablar suele ser un paso muerto” Ona said a little unsure

“I don't understand anything... could you please switch to english??” you yelled from the kitchen, where you prepared yourself a sandwich

“This is a PRIVATE conversation...” your Sister yelled back “... so get lost”

“Then don't hold your PRIVATE conversation in an open space like the living room, which is right next to the kitchen... your apartment ist very open” you answered, gesturing around the apartment.

“Are you seriously eating again?? We just had breakfast” Lucy exclaimed as she saw the sandwich “... and I told you to get lost, I want to talk to Ona... privatly”

“It's not like I understand anything” you rolled your eyes

“Los dejo a ustedes dos... No quiero entrometerme” Ona said quietly

“No te quedes... por favor” Lucy said a little desperate “Ignórala... lo siento, puedo enviarla a su habitación si te hace sentir incómodo”

“No, you should enjoy your time with your sister” Ona smiled but her eyes show sadness

“Thank you” you said, chewing on your sandwich, completely oblivious to what’s happening.

“I told you to get lost” Lucy growled at you and you noticed it was serious

“I don't know where to go... you never showed me around” you said annoyed

“Here” your sister reached into her pants pocket, pulling out some money “Here are 20 Euros, find the next Starbucks and buy yourself an Iced Chocolate Frappe... or something else without caffein... just PLEASE leave”

“Wow you really love me” you said sarcastic “It feels like I'm 13 all over and you wanted me out of the House so you can have “quality time” with Keira”

“I want you out of my apartment, because I need to speak to my girlfriend in private and you eating like harvester doesn't help... take your phone with you, god only knows Mum will kill me if you get lost in Barcelona because you took a wrong turn and ended up in La Mina – IF you get lost or need to get picked up, phone me.. or Keira! Be aware of pick pockers and don't interact with groups of spanish guys... DON'T GET KILLED” your Sister said, already pushing you towards the front door and outside

“I... hey...” you tried to protest but it was no use, since you found yourself already outside of the apartment

“Lucy... I need SHOES” you knocked hard on the door, which promptly opend and a pair of shoes were tossed outside.

Part 3 is in the making 😅

#mapi leon x reader #woso image #keira walsh x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #alexia putellas x reader #ona batlle

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samkerrworshipper · 3 months

Text

warmed - mapi leon x reader

just r cockwarming mapi.. not much more to it lol

ik i keep promising yall angst… its coming… at some stage

warnings: smut 18+

You’re overstimulated.

To the point where your skin is beginning to itch with the want and need that is pooling up in the pit of your stomach, right where you feel so full and so empty at the same time.

You fucked up, you were well aware of it, it wasn’t like you could make up for it now.

This though, this was so rewarding and unrewarding at the same time, you were stuffed full to the very brim which was perfect, but also so unfulfilling at the same time.

“Keep still or we start over.”

Mapi’s words are a brutal reminder of exactly what position you are in, crammed down against her lap, ass flush to her hips whilst you try your very hardest not to grind or jostle against her.

An hour and thirty minutes.

That’s how long you’ve been sitting in Mapi’s lap like this, no pleasure, no release, no relief.

The two of you had to rewatch your game from yesterday anyways, so Maria had set you the task of staying still whilst she analysed the match against Levante.

You were supposed to be analysing it as well, but it was kind of hard to pay attention when you were filled to the brim with 7 inches of silicone cock.

You wished Maria had given you the easy way out, wished she’d spanked you or edged you or done something else that would make you feel something besides mellowed out pressure.

“Maria.”

Your words are whined out for the room to hear, not that there is anybody else in your company.

“Eyes on the screen, carino.”

Your eyes struggle to obey her command, your pupils stuck to your naked bottom half that’s unmoving.

“I won’t say it again, eyes on the screen unless you want a spanking once we’re done.”

Your eyes snap up, what you want once this is done is for Mapi to fuck you senseless, you aren’t sure if you can handle another minute with her just idly sitting inside you.

“Eight more minutes princesa, you think you can hold up for me until then?”

You groan at her, you want to say no, but the words can’t make it past your lips, Maria seems to understand though.

“Tough luck, make it through the eight minutes or else you won’t cum for the rest of the week. I’m sick of your shit attitude and bratty fucking mouth, you have to learn some way.”

Mapi’s voice is gritty, you know that she wanted nothing more than to come back from dinner, cuddle up on the couch and watch the game replay before the two of you went to bed together.

She wanted soft, sweet, tender.

You wanted mean, rough and hard.

You supposed this was the halfway point, it was Maria’s way of punishing you without giving in to what you wanted.

You’d been obtusely bratty and cheeky.

The two of you had been invited out for dinner with Alexia and Olga, a little quaint double date to a cute boutique Italian restaurant in Barcelona’s core.

It was nice, everything had been going well, until you’d made the decision to start teasing Mapi.

It had started with a hand on her exposed thigh, then your fingers drawing patterns up and down, pushing her skirt out of the way as you paved a path through to her panties.

You were out of your mind thinking Mapi would let it slide, she told you as much when she leant over to your ear telling you not to push her. You’d blatantly ignored her, continuing your attempts at one upping the defender. You got as far as the inside edge of her panties before her hand was grabbing yours and shoving it into your lap with a look of so much annoyance that you knew you were in deep shit.

Now you were here, sitting practically speared on her dick, your juices leakingout all over her thighs and your own.

You watched the clock run down, your eyes aimlessly following the ball as it was passed from side to side on the pitch.

Your legs were aching from the position you were being held in, your thighs being put to use to keep you from moving.

“Maria, please.”

You knew that most likely, your begging was going to be pointless, normally Mapi couldn’t of cared less, but it was worth a shot.

“Say one more word and you’ll see just how much worse this can get for you.”

You close your lips, your eyes staying laser focused on the screen as the clock ticks down on the game.

The last thirty seconds are possibly the worst, your legs start to burn and everything is so much more painful.

As soon as the final whistle blows on the game Mapi is turning you around, so you are now face to face with the Spaniard.

“This is how it’s going to go, we’re going to go to bed, I’m going to fuck you how I like, until I’m satisfied, you won’t cum, you won’t move unless you’re told, all you are here for is to be my little slut for my pleasure, not your own, comprendida?”

You can’t do anything beyond nodding your head.

Mapi picks you up with ease, lifting you up and taking you straight to the bedroom.

Just the feeling of her cock jolting inside of you every few seconds has you moaning, Mapi doesn’t care, all she cares about is getting you to where she wants you.

She manhandles and roughouses you onto the bed, pushing you up against the pillows and spreading your legs open before beginning to move inside of you.

Mapi’s pace is nowhere near fast or rigorous enough to satisfy you, when she said that she was searching for her own pleasure you didn’t realise that she would quite literally use your body as a vessel for her orgasm.

There is no doubt in your mind that Mapi has the little vibe insert tucked into the strap.

Her thrusts into you are shallow, hitting none of the spots that you need her to.

It’s crazily unpleasurable, and yet you don’t find yourself minding too much, especially not when Maria is the picture of perfection, her messy bun bopping up and down, her moans echoing out across the room.

You focus on Mapi, completely syncing out of your own mind, trying to imagine how Mapi is feeling.

You know that your supposed ‘punishment’ would have gotten her worked up, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

She’s chasing a built up desire, deep pure pleasure thrumming through her lower limbs.

Maria isn’t a overly loud lover, but you can tell just by the way her eyebrows are scrunched up and her pupils are blown that she is teetering somewhere on the edge, you aren’t quite sure where she’s at until her legs spasm and her whole body jerks.

Mapi cums hard and fast, her body thrusting into yours until the after effects of her orgasm have managed to rid her body and she pulls out.

You feel emptier than you ever have, most likely a result of being stuffed full for hours on end.

Mapi makes quick work of removing the strap, once she does she lies herself down on the bed next to you, letting you breathe through the big feelings that you are experiencing.

“How are you feeling, princesa?”

Mapi’s hands are on your face, twisting the strays hairs out of your face and gently playing with them between her fingers.

“Good, just need a second.”

Your legs feel heavier than a hundred bricks, numb and weighed down to the point where you genuinely wonder whether they’ll be in use tomorrow.

“You want to cum? I think you’ve earned it, you were such a good little girl for me, princesa.”

You do want your own orgasm, you think that your cunt will implode if it doesn’t get to experience some relief, but you need a few minutes to recover from the last hours happenings.

“Just gimme a minute, seeing you like that made me think and feel things I never had.”

Mapi’s smirk was cheeky, cavalier and slightly proud.

“Mm, next time it’ll have to be three hours, hmm? I wonder how crazy that would make you.”

You shake your head at the suggestion immediately, an hour and a half had been pushing it, 3 hours was simply ridiculous.

“How about I promise to never be a brat again?”

Mapi rolls her eyes, her mouth reaching down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“We both know that would be a lie, carino. You’re my bratty girl and I wouldn’t dare have you any other way. Now how about we go get clean in the shower and I let you get off on my thigh, hm? You’ve been good but not good enough to deserve my mouth or fingers, you’ll have to work your way up to that.”

You nod eagerly at Maria, already willing your legs to begin moving so that Mapi can’t take back what she’s just said to you.

When Mapi realises that you need some assistance, she picks you up, gently carrying you towards the bathroom.

#woso #woso community #on my knees for mapi #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #mapi león #mapi leon smut #woso imagine #woso smut #woso fanfics #woso one shot #wlw smut #shameless smut

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