#I can’t believe it’s been five years already | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafesangelita · 3 months ago

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ when farmer’s!daughter!reader’s father goes out of town to visit some family, her and cowboy!rafe can’t keep their hands to themselves any longer.

warnings: reader is a little bit on the shy side, flirty banter, use of petnames, implied age gap (rafe is 7-10 years older), hint of jealous!rafe, reader refers to her father as ‘daddy’, mentions of sneaking around, slowburn (kinda?), lotsss of sexual tension, fluff, mutual pining, oral (f. receiving), fingering, finger sucking, unprotected sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, cream pie, squirting, multiple orgasms

a/n: based loosely off of the moodboard + headcanons i wrote here <3 saddle up because this is a long one lol

wc: 4.8k

“you gonna keep staring at me or are you gonna help me out here?” rafe grunted, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he watched you blink away from his form. you looked up from his shirtless figure, his skin glistening with sweat as butterflies fluttered in your chest. “what do you need?” you chirped, blinking rapidly as if to shake away the thoughts of pressing wet kisses to his waistline. “a cold glass of water sounds good right now.” you obliged, rafe watching as you went up the porch stairs in your cute little boots, his eyes falling down to your backside. “fuck.” he muttered to himself.

if he knew he’d have to fight the urge to touch his boss’s pretty daughter, he would’ve hesitated in taking the job. eight months had felt like an eternity when you pranced around the farm in the prettiest dresses and shortest daisy duke shorts he’s ever seen. you came back with a glass of water, taking a sip before handing it to him. expecting rafe to turn the glass around to take a drink from the other side of the rim, your cheeks heated when he placed his mouth on the same spot your lips were on just moments ago. “thanks, sweetheart.” rafe shot you a wink, his charm making you look away shyly.

you plopped down on a nearby tree stump, a pout taking over your features as you looked at the empty driveway. your father had only been gone for a few hours, not nearly making a dent in the five days he’ll be away. “you don’t have to worry about him, y’know? he’s a strong man.” rafe decided he needed a break from being hunched over under the hood of his truck, his chest rising and falling as he took a seat on the bed of fluffy grass next to you. “i know..” you muttered, “it’s just— he’s so much older now, i worry about him.” you looked down at rafe, his eyes already trained on you.

rafe nodded. “that man can survive anything. wasn’t he in his truck when a tornado came and swept him off the ground?” you gasped, a laugh escaping your lips. “he told you that story?!” you squealed excitedly, your reaction making rafe melt into a puddle of nothing. you were too cute. “did he also tell you the part where that didn’t really happen? him and his buddy just got real close to it.” rafe’s face morphed into one of pure shock. “he lied?!” you threw your head back in laughter, a snort following shortly after. it was rafe’s turn to laugh, the sound unfamiliar to his ears.

“oh my god, excuse me. i can’t believe i just did that!” you clasped a hand over your mouth, embarrassment creeping up onto your face. the man next to you waved you off. “why would he lie about that?” rafe leaned back on his hands, giving you a full view of his chiseled abs. sighing dreamily, you shrugged. “he’s a drama queen sometimes, he likes the theatrics.” realizing that you just swooned over his muscles, rafe cleared his throat before getting back to work. he respected your father too much to give in to his filthy desires, or so he hoped.

swallowing the lump of rejection in your throat, you made your way inside where you decided to watch him from your bedroom window instead. your infatuation with this man only grew by the day, and it was becoming really hard to hide your adoration for him. all the times he slipped you a little wink when your father wasn’t looking, the playing of footsies under the table while your father ranted about the economy, the lingering stares and touches.. you weren’t crazy, you had every right to believe this man was interested in you in some way, shape, or form.

apart of you wanted to believe that rafe was trying to maintain in being a gentleman towards you, but there’s nothing you wanted more than for him to hold off all kind of honor and respect for you while he takes you however he wants. you daydreamed about being fucked in a headlock by him, along with being put into twenty other positions. letting out a sigh, you fell back on your bed, fiddling with the ribbon that was tied to the belt loop of your shorts. how on earth were you going to go about these next few days all alone with him?

night time rolled around, and rafe had just come inside for a shower. “are you hungry?” you watched as he rolled his shoulders back, cracking his neck to release some pressure of today’s labor. “yeah, but i’ll help myself. don’t worry about it, ‘sugar.” he groaned before shutting the bathroom door behind him. you knew he wouldn’t, days like this always ended in rafe knocking out as soon as he hit his bed, empty stomach or not. the only thing rafe could think about as the hot water pattered against his back, was how you were in the same house as him in nothing but a night dress.

he wondered if you’d let him hike it up your thighs.. if you’d allow him to slip his fingers underneath the soft material. so badly, he wanted to see your face twist in pleasure underneath him, he ached to see that day. rafe let out a shuddering breath, swallowing thickly as lewd images of you ran through his head. he imagined your hands trailing down his torso, those cherry red painted fingers of yours wrapped tightly around his cock. you had this man questioning everything he ever knew about being a gentlman. rafe rubbed the sides of his face, his eyes screwing shut as he attempted to get all inappropriate thoughts about you out of his head.

he remembered seeing you for the first time all those months ago. you were wearing a red gingham dress, your hair styled so pretty and neat. he knew immediately that he was in trouble when you flashed him that million dollar smile when your father introduced you two. it wasn’t long before both of you started flirting with each other, even going as far as touching each other when you didn’t have to. rafe would ‘help’ you up on your horse, his hands planted on the globes of your ass as he hoisted you onto the saddle. he swore he died and came back to life whenever you’d place a hand on him every time he made you laugh.

slowly but surely, you two were getting more bolder with your moves. while rafe was ogling your goodies more often than not, you started leaving your curtains open whenever you’d change, knowing he could see you from the view of his window. pinching the bridge of his nose, rafe quickly hurried up in the shower, feeling the need to relieve himself in his own space where he knew you’d be far away from. after washing away all the dirt and grime, he felt clean as he dried himself off, only for his peace to come crashing down when he realized he didn’t bring an extra change of clothes with him.

with no other choice but to walk out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he tried to sneak pass you in the kitchen and out the back door, but of course he wasn’t so lucky. “i know you said you would make yourself something, but—” you turned around with a loaded dinner plate in your hand, the dish nearly slipping out of your grip when you saw the tall cowboy standing awkwardly with his hands on his hips.

your eyes trailed down his stomach, the sight of his happy trail making you swallow thickly. rafe took note of this, his heart beating in his chest as you averted your gaze elsewhere. “uhm, well i made you this.. i know it’s one of your favorites..” you placed the plate of steak and mashed potatoes on the table, turning around as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. this was absolute torture. “it looks amazing, i’ll just get some clothes on and be right back.” he held onto the towel, jogging to his place where he slipped on a pair of pajama pants and a dingy white t-shirt.

“you didn’t have to do this,” rafe took a seat at the table, his jaw ticking when you bent over the counter to grab a couple of drinking glasses, “thank you.” at this point he didn’t know if he was thanking you for the food, or the perfect view of your ass. “water?” you looked at him from over your shoulder, your cheeks heating when you saw his eyes shoot away from your backside. “a beer please.” you smiled at his answer. you should’ve known he’d pick that out after a full day of work. grabbing a bottle from the fridge, you handed it to him, his fingers brushing yours as you took a seat across from him.

“my dad makes it a lot better than i do, so—” rafe was quick to cut you off, a moan leaving his lips as he chewed. “this is.. damn!” you giggled, shaking your head. “it’s great, darlin’. truly.” he nodded approvingly, flashing you a thumbs up. you smiled that smile of yours before tasting it yourself. despite all the tension between you two, you could always count on each other to talk the other’s ear off. “wait. so you’re telling me that you’re actually from an island? why on earth would you live out in the middle of nowhere when you had the beach in your backyard?” you asked incredulously.

rafe took a swig from his beer, a bittersweet laugh leaving his lips. “i got into a ‘lotta bad shit over there. i was on some bad shit,” he sighed, “being out here brings me peace.. even if i’m breaking my back everyday.” you listened closely, giving him your full attention as he told you more about the place he was from. you learned that he used to be a filthy rich boy with a house bigger than you could ever imagine. rafe smiled softly, a solemn expression taking over his features. “it’s very nice. but i wouldn’t go back.” he leaned back in his chair.

you tilted your head at him, both of your plates empty. “no? how come?” you leaned forward, your cleavage peeking out of your neckline. eyes flickering down to your chest, rafe seemed to get flustered when he felt your foot trail up his leg. “well,” he zeroed in on your lips, “i see myself settling down out here, ‘havin some little ones.” your breath hitched, a smidge of jealousy now residing in your gut. as if he could read your mind, he caught your foot under the table, his thumb stroking your ankle. “old habits seem to die hard, huh?” rafe laughed.

pushing away the jealousy, you nodded, feeling a new profound sense of confidence with the way he was looking at you right now. “yeah, i guess i forgot we’re here all by ourselves.. ‘don’t really have to hide from anyone..” you yawned, your head falling back on your chair as your night gown rode up your thighs. just a few inches higher, and rafe would finally see what he’s been fantasizing about all this time. “yeah..” he crossed his arms, his biceps looking especially good right now. you two stayed quiet, just looking at each other as if everything was threatening to rise to the surface.

do something! you thought to yourself, hoping rafe could magically hear you and grab you from across the table. instead, he looked away, letting go of your foot before scooting out from the table. “dinner was really good, but i better head off to bed, now.” he didn’t let you say anything before he left in a haste. what. the. fuck. you got up, watching him curse to himself from the kitchen window. you couldn’t help but feel defeated. rafe was always the one pulling away from you, no matter how close you two got, he always left you high and dry.

once you cleaned everything up, and you were left lying by yourself in your bed, you decided everything would change. if he pulled away from you, surely you should do the same.

you woke up the next morning to the sound of rafe’s truck engine roaring to life. rubbing your eyes, you shielded your face from the morning sun, deciding to get your day started as soon as possible. within an hour, you were stepping outside, walking over to where rafe was smiling brightly behind the steering wheel. “i got it working, sweetheart! should we go for a ride?” damn him, he knew how much you loved to be passenger princess in his two seater-beater. you cleared your throat, already hating yourself as you said no. “i don’t think so.. i got a lot of stuff to do today.”

rafe watched you go back in the house, his jaw ticking in response. the only thing you had to do today was sit and look pretty. not to mention, for as long as rafe has been here, you never, ever, rejected going on a little drive with him. that’s how he immediately knew something wasn’t right, and he’d bet all of his money that it had something to do with last night. taking the keys out of the ignition, rafe decided that if you weren’t going to go for a ride with him, then he wasn’t going either. considering he did everything he needed to do yesterday, rafe settled for going inside to tidy up his place.

you walked around the house aimlessly, a book in your hand as you kept glancing outside to see if you could spot rafe anywhere. you didn’t. letting out a groan, you looked at the clock on the wall. it was already half past noon. you debated on whether or not you should take him some lunch, your leg bouncing as you tried to weigh out your options here. on one hand, you could bring rafe lunch, try to talk some stuff out, and on the other hand, you could just leave things be like you promised yourself you would. you knew rafe wasn’t stupid, surely he’d catch on to you soon.

just as you decided against bothering him, there was a knock at the front door. eyebrows knitting in confusion, you opened the door to see your childhood best friend, wyatt. “wyatt!” you squealed, throwing your arms around him as he pulled you close to him by your waist. “oh my, lord! when did you come back from the city?!” you welcomed him in, motioning for him to come inside. “i just finished my second semester, so i’ll be in town for a while. i drove out here just last night, ‘decided to surprise my folks.” he smiled, his expression softening once you urged him to take a seat at the kitchen table.

“i didn’t see your old man’s truck out front..” he sat down, taking his hat off and placing it on the table. “oh, yeah.. he’s out of town visiting my aunt.” you leaned back on the counter, your eyes flickering at his hair. he looked so much different now. “wow, you’re uh— you look really good.” you complimented. “yeah, i’m not lanky anymore,” wyatt laughed, “you look gorgeous as always, though.” his gaze ran down your dress, the sight of your bare thighs making him clear his throat. “well, i didn’t just want to come by and say hi, i actually wanted to ask you something—”

rafe barged in before wyatt could finish his sentence.

“who’s this?” he stared between you two, the jealousy in his blue eyes very, very evident. you smiled innocently as wyatt got up, extending a hand for rafe to shake. “hello, sir. i’m an old friend of y/n’s here, ‘was just coming to visit her.” rafe looked down at wyatt’s palm, keeping both of his hands tucked in his pockets. “well, you two might wanna hurry this up, y/n’s father doesn’t know about any visitors coming to his home.” rafe walked around him, opening the fridge for a beer. “daddy isn’t home though, isn’t he?” you spoke up, in which rafe turned around. “what was that?” he asked.

you two were glaring at each other now. “my dad isn’t here,” you repeated, “and besides, he knows wyatt. ‘thinks of him as a son, right?” rafe’s grip on his beer bottle tightened, a smile playing on his lips when he glanced over at your friend. “yeah.” wyatt nodded. rafe was seeing red, he couldn’t stand to look at you and wyatt standing so close to each other any longer. turning around, rafe listened in as wyatt asked to take you out to dinner. “aw, i would love to! what time should i be ready?”rafe shut his eyes momentarily. you said yes to wyatt too fast for his liking. “how does eight o’clock sound?”

you hummed, nodding excitedly as wyatt made his way to the front door. “alright, it’s a date then. see ‘ya!” you waved at him until his truck disappeared down the dirt road. walking back into the kitchen, rafe was staring you down as you acted like you didn’t just agree to go on a date in front of him. “what do you think you’re playing at?” he narrowed his eyes at you. “if you’re acting out because of last night—” you cut him off. “don’t talk about me ‘acting out’ when you’re the one who decided to run back to your little shed when i was giving you an open opportunity.” you cut in.

“an open opportunity to do what?” rafe’s voice was firm as he stepped closer to you, his beer long forgotten on the counter as he gripped your arm. you failed miserably at trying not to look down at his lips. “it doesn’t even matter now. you obviously don’t want it,” you softened, “don’t want me..” rafe couldn’t believe his ears. you were all that this man thought about. he woke up thinking of what pretty outfit you would wear for the day, and went to sleep wishing you were by his side. “don’t want you?” he repeated, loosening his grip on your skin. “you just have no fucking clue.” rafe stepped back.

“you’re the only thing that i want.” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head as he made his way outside to the back house. you stared at him in shock. all this time you wondered if something was wrong with you because he never made a real move to pursue you, but now all of a sudden after you agree to go on a date he wants to express how he feels? and has the nerve to walk off right after? fuck that. you pushed the back door open, the old wood slamming back against the house as rafe spun around on his heels. “so why do you walk away from me?!” you shouted, both of your chests rising and falling.

“what are you talking about?” you stepped down the stairs, shoving rafe in the chest. “why do you leave every time things start to go somewhere?” his eyes bore into yours, “i’m sick of this game of cat and mouse. have you ever thought that maybe i want you too?” those were the words rafe needed to hear before he cupped your face and dragged you off your feet. his lips were soft against your own, his calloused hands pulling you close to him as your arms wrapped around his neck. he groaned at the taste of you, his tongue slipping in your mouth before you could process what was happening.

rafe kissed you hard and slow, as if to savor you before he led you two to his place, the door barely shutting before he had you pinned to his neatly made bed. “i’ve wanted you the moment your father introduced us, that’s the truth.” he slotted himself between your thighs, cupping your tits through your dress. you moaned, his hips grinding against your clothed cunt. “why would you wait all this time then?” you whimpered when he started pressing kisses to the curve of your neck, his calloused hands feeling you up as they roamed your soft flesh. “well for starters, i have a lot of respect for your pops..”

you sighed, completely forgetting about the old man. “and?” rafe pulled the straps of your dress down until the material pooled at your waist. leaning back on his heels, rafe marveled at the sight of your bare chest, your tits looking more perfect than he imagined. “..and right now, all the respect i have is going out the door.” you cried out when he leaned down, his lips wrapping around a sensitive bud while he used his other hand to snake beneath the waistband of your panties. you blinked up at the ceiling, your hips bucking when you felt his rough fingers stroke your clit.

“that feels so good, ray.” you keened, the weight of his body providing you a sense of safety and comfort. rafe felt like he was under a spell. with your sweet voice in his ear, and his fingers working to get you soaked and ready for him, he couldn’t wait to taste you any longer. pulling away from you, rafe slid your dress and underwears off in one swift motion, a shiver running down your spine when he slowly spread your thighs apart. “you’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” he licked his lips, glancing up at your heated face. your heart bloomed in your chest, your hand finding his cheek.

“please. i’ve wanted this for eight months.” you confessed, your words sending rafe into overdrive. without another thought, rafe took your thighs and placed them on his shoulders, delving into your wetness with a groan. instinctively, your back arched up from his bed, your hands flying to rest on top of his own. you squeezed his fingers, a string of babbles falling from your lips as rafe’s tongue flicked against your sensitive bundle of nerves. rafe watched as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyebrows knitting together as pure bliss etched itself onto your face.

“you okay?” rafe pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, wanting to make sure it wasn’t too much for you before continuing. “mhmm, yes!” you looked down, the image of rafe’s chin, lips, and even the tip of his nose glistening with your slick was now forever ingrained in your brain. smiling to himself, rafe got back to work, but this time with his fingers prodding at your entrance. “might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but i promise it’ll feel so good, baby.” you nodded, putting all your trust in him before you felt the delicious stretch of his digits inside your cunt.

“fuck!” you squealed, your thighs threatening to snap shut around his head. rafe curled his digits, your eyes screwing shut as he continuously pressed that soft spot inside of you. rafe didn’t stop his skillful movements on your clit, an unfamiliar feeling starting to swirl in your core. rafe cursed at the wet sounds emitting from your pussy, his cock hard and aching to get inside of you already. you gasped when he kept suckling on your sensitive bud, your stomach caving in when he pressed a hand to your tummy. before you could think, white hot pleasure blinded your vision, your entire body jolting as the first wave of your orgasm washed over you.

rafe felt the way you pulsed around his digits, wishing so badly that it was his cock instead. eyes flickering up to your face, he groaned when he saw the way your face twisted in pure bliss, your legs shaking as you felt the sudden urge to pull away from him. “rafe, wait!” you cried out, a sob ripping itself from your throat when a stream of wetness suddenly soaked rafe’s chin, your decadence streaming down his neck as he moaned against your cunt. you stared down at him with wide eyes, your mouth parting in suprise when he slipped his digits in his mouth.

“i- i don’t know what that was!” you gasped, cheeks heating in embarrassment. licking a final stripe up your folds, rafe smiled as he shook his head. “you just squirted, baby, get used to it.” his length rested on top of your tummy, hot and heavy, as he threaded his fingers with yours. “gonna fuck you until you’re carrying my baby..” your heart swelled, recalling his words from last night. “were you talking about me? when you said you wanted little ones..” rafe looked into your eyes, the sincerity in his gaze making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. “you’re the only woman i envision. future and present.”

cupping his face softly, you brought his lips down to meet your own, the head of his cock slipping into your entrance. you let out a shuddering breath, nodding slowly as he pushed the rest of his length inside your greedy walls. you swore you died and went to heaven when he starting rocking into you, both of you moaning in unison. “rafe?” you whimpered, gazing up at him with teary eyes, “shit— yeah, sweetheart?” the man on top of you thumbed your chin, a concerned expression taking over his features. you could tell rafe was holding back with the way he was hesitating with every thrust.

“harder, please.” you asked sweetly, rafe obliging without another thought. soon, you were a crying mess, your eyes barely staying open as rafe put you in a mating press. he was already reaching new depths in regular missionary, so when he placed your legs over his shoulders and caged you between his arms, you were hysterical as his tip kissed your cervix. “oh, god!” you screamed, your nails digging into rafe’s skin as he fucked you stupid. “can’t..” you shook your head, the feeling of his cock filling you to the hilt was increasingly becoming too much to handle.

"yes you can, sugar. look how good you're taking it all.." rafe cradled your head, making you look down at where you two were connected. you moaned at the sight, his cock shining with your slick. rafe kept his hands beneath your head, kissing you softly as his pubic bone began hitting your clit. “m’gonna make you the prettiest mommy this town has ever seen, just watch.” he chuckled, his forehead falling in the curve of your neck. you ran your fingers across his buzzed scalp, the word ‘promise?’ lingering on your tongue. “is that what you want? ‘want me to breed you until you’re all pretty and round?”

you cried out, rafe’s hips stuttering as he felt his climax creeping up on him. “yes, yes, yes—” you repeated yourself like a broken record, rafe’s name falling from your lips like a mantra. “oh, fuck!” he cursed, teeth grazing your flesh as he spilled into you, your second orgasm making you squeeze around him like a vice. rafe stilled, making sure to keep stroking your clit so he could draw out your high for as long as possible. slipping his thumb in your mouth, you shamelessly sucked on the digit as you trembled beneath him, his hot load filling you up.

you two stayed panting against each other’s mouths until your highs subsided, a light sheen of sweat coating both of your skin’s. pulling out with a grunt, rafe rolled over, pulling you with him so he could spoon you. letting out a sigh, you reveled in the warm sun streaming through his window, the light casting off of your face and illuminating the walls. “that was worth the wait, don’t you think?” if it wasn’t for the feeling of your limbs being jelly, you would’ve turned around and landed a playful smack to his chest. instead, you hummed, your eyes heavy with sleep. “we’re not keeping this from my father, rafe.”

your voice was hoarse as you spoke. “no. no, we’re not.” he kissed your shoulder. “you should probably give that guy wayne a call, ‘tell him you’re not going on that date after all.” you giggled, a shiver going down your spine as his large palm rubbed circles into your back. “wyatt, rafe. his name is wyatt. i only told him yes to rile you up.” you teased. rafe knew that, but it still pissed him off nonetheless. “i’ll cancel in a minute, ‘sir.” you used wyatt’s formalities towards rafe earlier against him, earning you a light pinch to your side. “that asshole. ‘really called me sir as if i’m that old.” he shook his head, waiting for you to disagree.

“well..” you trailed off, bursting into laughter when he attacked you with sloppy kisses.

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fiercynn · 9 months ago

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on ao3's current fundraiser

apparently it’s time for ao3’s biannual donation drive, which means it’s time for me to remind you all, that regardless of how much you love ao3, you shouldn’t donate to them because they HAVE TOO MUCH MONEY AND NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH IT.

we’ve known for years that ao3 – or, more specifically, the organization for transformative works (@transformativeworks on tumblr), or otw, who runs ao3 and other fandom projects – has a lot of money in their “reserves” that they had no plans for. but in 2023, @manogirl and i did some research on this, and now, after looking at their more recent financial statements, i’ve determined that at the beginning of 2024, they had almost $2.8 MILLION US DOLLARS IN SURPLUS.

our full post last year goes over the principles of how we determined this, even though the numbers are for 2023, but the key points still stand (with the updated numbers):

when we say “surplus”, we are not including money that they estimate they need to spend in 2024 for their regular expenses. just the extra that they have no plan for

yes, nonprofits do need to keep some money in reserves for emergencies; typically, nonprofits registered in the u.s. tend to keep enough to cover between six months and two years of their regular operating expenses (meaning, the rough amount they need each month to keep their services going). $2.8 million USD is enough to keep otw running for almost FIVE YEARS WITHOUT NEW DONATIONS

they always overshoot their fundraisers: as i’m posting this, they’ve already raised $104,751.62 USD from their current donation drive, which is over double what they’ve asked for! on day two of the fundraiser!!

no, we are not trying to claim they are embezzling this money or that it is a scam. we believe they are just super incompetent with their money. case in point: that surplus that they have? only earned them $146 USD in interest in 2022, because only about $10,000 USD of their money invested in an interest-bearing account. that’s the interest they earn off of MILLIONS. at the very least they should be using this extra money to generate new revenue – which would also help with their long-term financial security – but they can’t even do that

no, they do not need this money to use if they are sued. you can read more about this in the full post, but essentially, they get most of their legal services donated, and they have not, themselves, said this money is for that purpose

i'm not going to go through my process for determining the updated 2024 numbers because i want to get this post out quickly, and otw actually had not updated the sources i needed to get these numbers until the last couple days (seriously, i've been checking), but you can easily recreate the process that @manogirl and i outlined last year with these documents:

otw’s 2022 audited financial statement, to determine how much money they had at the end of 2022

otw’s 2024 budget spreadsheet, to determine their net income in 2023 and how much they transferred to and from reserves at the beginning of 2024

otw’s 2022 form 990 (also available on propublica), which is a tax document, and shows how much interest they earned in 2022 (search “interest” and you’ll find it in several places)

also, otw has not been accountable to answering questions about their surplus. typically, they hold a public meeting with their finance committee every year in september or october so people can ask questions directly to their treasurer and other committee members; as you can imagine, after doing this deep dive last summer, i was looking forward to getting some answers at that meeting!

but they cancelled that meeting in 2023, and instead asked people to write to the finance committee through their contact us form online. fun fact: i wrote a one-line message to the finance committee on may 11, 2023 through that form, when @manogirl and i were doing this research, asking them for clarification on how much they have in their reserves. i have still not received a response.

so yeah. please spend your money on people who actually need it, like on mutual aid requests! anyone who wants to share their mutual aid requests, please do so in the replies and i’ll share them out – i didn’t want to link directly to individual requests without permission in case this leads to anyone getting harassed, but i would love to share your requests. to start with, here's operation olive branch and their ongoing spreadsheet sharing palestinian folks who need money to escape genocide.

oh, and if you want to write to otw and tell them why you are not donating, i'm not sure it’ll get any results, but it can’t hurt lol. here's their contact us form – just don’t expect a response! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#ao3 #otw #archive of our own #organization for transformative works #ao3 is not your savior #and they don't need your money #otw finances

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sparklingchim · 3 months ago

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game on 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.9k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: 18+

warnings: lots of smoochies !! 🤭, their first kiss <3, umm mentions of jk's infamous threesome again 😔, koo talks abt taking girls in missionary what can i say he is a man

summary: jungkook and you practice acting for the cameras. kissing him feels more right than you anticipated.

a/n: yayy chapter 2 is here!!!! <3 writing this was truly saur much fun n i hope u have fun reading too !!! 😋

read chappie one here

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

"Just kiss me."

"Hold on a second."

"We really need to practise this."

"I know, just give me a minute."

You scoot away from Jungkook on the couch. You were sitting so close, almost about to kiss him actually, but his intense, doe-eyed gaze made you pause, needing a grounding breath.

You’ve never been this close to his face, and somehow, you can’t seem to cross the invisible line that keeps you from just pressing your mouth on his. Jungkook’s your friend, after all. You’ve known him since he was five and once saw him get his head stuck at school, so of course it’s weird.

You press your lips together in an attempt to focus, and lean in again, but once your eyes meet his, a smile urges on your mouth.

"Oh my god." Jungkook’s frustrated sigh cuts the air. "This can’t already be doomed to failure because of a simple kiss."

"It’s not! I just need to mentally prepare myself."

"I feel...offended? Kinda?" Jungkook weaves his fingers through his hair. "I’ve never had to convince someone to kiss me."

"It’s not you. I promise!" you say, reaching for his knee. "Under any other circumstance, if we weren’t friends, I’d love to kiss you. You’re hot and cute, but the situation we’re in makes me feel so stupid. It’s absurd."

Jungkook cringes when you call him cute and removes your hand off his knee.

Yesterday, when Jungkook showed up unannounced, it took him full ten minutes to convince you he wasn’t pulling a prank on you.

Who would believe their friend begging you to fake date them? It’s ridiculous. Only happens in the fictional world.

But then Jungkook showed you the pap picture that was circulating online. The comments and gossip were nasty and you knew he was caught up in a deep mess.

In the photo, Jungkook was surrounded by two girls, his arms draped casually around their waists as they stumbled out of the club, a half-full drink lazily held in his hand. His hair was a tousled mess, likely from the girls running their fingers through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small peek into his defined chest. It was bold, provocative — definitely not the ideal image of a responsible twenty-year-old football rookie.

Probably the worst pap pic you’ve seen of him so far. And the worst timing too.

"You were wasted," you commented, staring at the article he was showing you on his phone.

"And I had so much fun last night." His voice was tinged with frustration, like a child whose favourite toy had just been snatched away. "But then I woke up to this picture, and a flood of missed calls and texts." He rubbed his hands over his face, exhaling sharply. "They just had to ruin it for me."

Noticing your raised eyebrow, Jungkook quickly backtracked. "No, I know it’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have done this right before the World Cup, especially after what I promised. I just hate how everything turns into such a big deal, just because... well, just because I’m me."

The idea of fake dating Jungkook had seemed absurd, something out of a rom-com rather than real life. But the more he explained the pressure he was under, the more you understood why he needed this.

Jungkook was your best friend, and if kissing him in public could save his career, why not help him?

While you got ready for meeting his manager, stepping out of your comfy, rotting-at-home clothes, which consisted of little shorts and an oversized t-shirt (you think it’s actually Jungkook’s, but you’re not quite sure since it’s been in your closet for years now), and slipping into a casual, more presentable outfit, Jungkook busied himself fixing your laundry machine.

Jungkook’s manager knows you well – his entire team does. You are known as Jungkook’s close friend and had been spotted with him on multiple occasions.

Taesung greeted you warmly, though surprise flickered across his face when Jungkook introduced you as the solution to the fake dating plan.

You felt Taesung’s gaze assessing you, weighing your suitability for the role. Jungkook’s PR agent mirrored his scepticism, tilting her head in doubt. They exchanged uncertain glances, which made you nervous, but Jungkook was determined. Jungkook wasn’t Jungkook if he didn’t get what he wanted. With a few persuasive words and his usual charm, he quickly won Taesung over, who sighed and leaned back in his chair, conceding defeat.

"We need to establish the narrative from the start," Taesung said seriously. "The media will dig into your background, and they’ll want to know if there’s anyone else in the picture. So, to be clear, you’re officially single. No boyfriend, no complicated past relationships that could surface. We don’t need any messy stories."

You assured them that there was none. Multiple times. No angry exes, no secret relationships – your personal life was as drama-free as it could get.

Taesung slid a document across the desk.

"This ensures that whatever happens, no details of this arrangement-"

Jungkook’s hand shot out, halting the paper. "No," he said firmly. "She doesn’t need to sign anything."

"Jungkook, it’s just a formality," Jiwoo began, but Jungkook insisted.

"I trust ___. She’s not just anybody. She’s my best friend. If she says she won’t talk, she won’t talk. The NDA isn’t necessary."

"It’s okay," you assured him gently.

Jungkook shook his head. "No, this is ridiculous. You’re not signing a stupid contract."

After more arguing, his manager eventually relented.

Jiwoo outlined the plan in more detail with Taesung – public appearances, social media posts, carefully orchestrated moments that would sell the story to the public. You felt a bit intimidated by the pressure, but you’d get used to it. After all, this arrangement is only for a few months – just until his management can announce that you’d mutually decided to break up on good terms.

But you both need to practise before stepping in front of the cameras.

Which leads you to this moment, a day later, sitting on your couch trying to practice how to act like a couple. And it’s not going well at all.

"Okay, let’s start from the basics then," Jungkook suggests. He rises to his feet, offering you his hand. "Hold my hand."

You gingerly accept his hand, standing up as well.

"See, don’t we look cute?" Jungkook drags you to the mirror. "Or maybe – let’s intertwine our fingers. I think that would look better." He holds your interlaced hands up between the two of you, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "So cute, right?"

A giggle bubbles in your throat. "You act like you’ve never had a girlfriend."

"Well, it has been a while," he admits, the slightest sulk on his lips. "I’m too busy for relationships." He swings your hands. "The only times I ever hold a girl’s hand is in missionary, above their head when-"

"Jungkook," you interrupt quickly before he can delve any deeper into the story. You give him a mock glare, but there’s no hiding the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Didn’t we both agree on only talking about your bed stories after I’ve had at least one bottle of soju – preferably two, so I can mentally brace myself?"

You love him, you really do, but you don’t want to hear about his bed stories, unless you’re the slightest bit tipsy at first.

"Oh, yeah." He shakes his head apologetically. "Forgot about that."

"Wait, maybe that’s what we should do!" you exclaim as an idea pops into your mind. Your hand slips out of his, and you take a step toward the kitchen. "I think there are a few bottles of soju in the fridge."

"We’re not getting drunk to build up the courage to kiss," he insists. "We shouldn’t need alcohol to pretend we’re into each other."

Jungkook pulls you closer to him, and you stumble slightly, but his hand instinctively moves to the small of your back, steadying you.

"Fine," you sigh dramatically, hand on his chest. "Was just an idea to make this easier for us." The fabric of his shirt is extremely soft and your fingers glide over it.

"I mean, it’s not like we’re complete strangers. And they know it too. We’ve been through enough to pull this off without breaking a sweat."

He’s is right. The public knows you’re one of Jungkook’s closest friends. It wouldn’t be totally unbelievable that you two might have fallen in love.

After all, you’ve always been comfortable with each other —hugging, cuddling during movie nights, play-fight over silly things just to annoy each other. You’ve shared quiet moments, like when you’d fall asleep on his shoulder after a long day or when he’d run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while you talked. There were times when Jungkook was exhausted and crashed at your place, your fingers gently scratching his head as he slept peacefully. You’ve kissed each other’s cheeks in thanks without hesitation.

Jungkook’s touch isn’t foreign to you.

And still, the thought of acting like you’re in love when you’re not feels strange. Sure, you’ve always been physically close, but this was different. This time, every gesture would be for an audience, every touch would carry a different meaning. It wasn’t just casual anymore.

"I guess," you reply, fiddling with the hem of his oversized t-shirt, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I think it’s just weird to be this close for show."

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening as he considers your words. "Yeah," he murmurs. "But it’s not like we’re faking the friendship part. The rest...we’ll figure out." His fingers clasp your hip, the pads of his fingers gently digging into your flesh. "Don’t think about it too much," he says. "When we have our first public appearance as a couple, pretend like the cameras aren’t there, act nonchalant. Just... y’know. You and me."

You pout, an involuntarily frustrated grumble leaving your lips as you drop your forehead on his chest.

"I hope I’ll do well under all the attention."

You’ve dealt with your fair share of noisy people trying to pry into your relationship with Jungkook, but so far, it’s been somewhat manageable.

"Just you and me," Jungkook repeats, his tone softer and more assured this time. "Nothing can happen to you when I’m there."

You glance up at him, taking in the gentle lines of his face.

"Maybe you should’ve hired a girl that can deal well with attention," you voice your thoughts.

"No." Jungkook’s immediate response rolls off harshly on his tongue. "You were my first thought. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else but you."

"I was your first choice?" Giddiness makes your face shine.

"Yeah. I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable with anyone but you."

"Be honest, you just really wanna kiss me."

You stand on your tippy toes, a silly smile spreading across your face.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, a teasing glint buried in his eyes.

"I think you do."

With a surge of confidence, you take a small step closer, your heart beating a little faster as you close the gap between you and Jungkook. Your lips meet in a gentle, fleeting touch. The contact only lasts for a moment before you pull back, your eyes searching his for a reaction.

"That was a smooch. Not a kiss."

You frown upon hearing him complain.

"What, you want to make out with me in public?"

Jungkook sniffs a laugh. "No, but maybe a little more than how fifth graders kiss."

"You’re a kissing expert now?" you quip back, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jungkook leans in slightly. "I just know what I like."

The challenge in his voice sparks something in you. "Then show me how you like it."

His gaze drops to your lips, and a flutter of excitement spreads in your tummy. It’s unexpected and thrilling and it catches you off guard.

Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your back, slowly glides up, his fingers curling around the side of your face, his thumb brushing delicately against your cheekbone.

Your breath hitches as he leans in. His lips meet yours again, but this time there’s more weight behind the contact – still soft, but deeper, more intentional. His lips move slowly and there’s a warmth to it, a tenderness that makes your heart race even as the kiss remains gentle. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the connection just enough to make you melt into him.

The teasing atmosphere lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it’s pushed aside by the gentle pressure of his lips on yours.

Kissing Jungkook doesn’t feel weird – which makes it a little weird.

When you both finally pull back, it’s gradual. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, mingling with your own.

"Like that," he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re a good kisser."

You pull back completely. "Excuse me?" you say. "You were doubting my kissing abilities?"

"No, not at all!" Jungkook shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes as he gazes at your sulky face. "You’re just a very good kisser. Like, super gentle and smooth."

Heat crawls up your cheeks. You ignore the flush of warmth and keep your composure. "Have you been using the lip balm I got you? Your lips are soft."

"I know, right? Not chapped at all anymore."

He traces two fingers along his bottom lip and your eyes follow the motion, finding yourself inexplicably drawn to his lips.

"Are we done practising?"

"Do you think we looked natural?" Jungkook’s hand slips into yours once more. While he is focused on the mirror, adjusting the way your bodies fit together – tugging you closer, alternating between holding your hand and interlacing your fingers – your mind is still replaying the memory of the tender press of his lips. "For me, it felt pretty natural. Not awkward at all. What do you think?"

It’s the simplicity with which he says it that draws a short laugh out of you.

The sound grabs his attention. "What?"

"You’re just...extremely serious about this. I don’t think they’ll analyse the way we hold hands, Kook."

"But that’s their favourite thing to do," Jungkook replies. "The gossip mills love analysing every step you take, where your eyes wander, who you smile at." A note of bitterness threads through his words.

He’s been playing pro for just two years and has fallen victim to greedy people intruding on his life so many times already. Former friends who leaked private conversations, acquaintances who turned their brief interactions into tabloid fodder, even strangers who felt entitled to a piece of him just because he was in the public eye.

Jungkook searched for solace and silence at your place many times, trying to escape the madness. In the quiet of your dorm, breathing felt easier.

You never asked questions, never pried. In a world where everyone seemed out to get something from him, you just let him be, offering him the comfort of your presence without demanding anything in return.

"People were just criticising this dude – ah, who was it again?" Jungkook stares at the ceiling, raking through his thoughts. "I can’t remember his name, but this guy was getting called out for choosing the booth seat while making his girlfriend sit in the aisle seat."

"The aisle seat? Come on, it’s an unwritten rule that-" You fall silent once you catch Jungkook’s pointed expression. "I mean, yeah. It’s definitely wrong to make a big deal about it. Maybe she prefers sitting there," you shrug.

"But do you see what I mean?" he asks. "Whether you intend to or not, you’re always judging what others do. And that judgement only intensifies when it involves a celebrity."

"Ah, when did you become so famous Jeon Jungkook?" You sigh, looking down at your linked hands.

"I know, right? Two years ago, no one would’ve cared if I had a threesome." He shakes his head in disbelief. "And now I am being punished for it—kicked off the national team, and my best friend has to save me by fake dating me."

"I feel like this would make a good movie," you giggle.

“We have to practise hard, then," he says.

You pull your phone from your pocket. "What if we film ourselves kissing so we can monitor it better?" You set up your phone on a nearby shelf and position yourselves in front of the camera. "Don’t engaged couples do this? I feel like we’re practising for our wedding kiss."

"Oh, butterflies."

"Huh?" You stare at the way he holds his hand against his tummy.

"You just told me you want to marry me. That gave me butterflies."

You slap his arm. "Stop being silly, we have a whole nation to fool that we’re in love."

Hang outs with Jungkook often end with the two of you lounging on the couch, snacks scattered everywhere, and a movie playing on the TV.

"Next one?" Jungkook asks from his spot beside you, inching closer with his pleading doe eyes.

You try to push him away by the, but he doesn’t budge.

"I need to study. Like, for real." You had warned him before starting the movie, agreeing to watch only one, but he still tried his luck.

He holds up one finger. "Just one."

You push him off your body, and this time he allows it, his back slumping against the couch. The grumble of complaint in his throat gets muffled by his pursed lips.

"You’re smart. The material is probably set in your brain anyway. No need to revise anything."

You scoff at his bratty words.

"So you won’t ever need to ditch hangouts for football practice because you’re already so good at it?"

"Well, no." He drags the word out, brows furrowed as he considers your question, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. "But I know you don’t need to study as much as you do. You’re just naturally smart."

"I wish, but I ace my exams because I study as much as I do."

"Aish," Jungkook mutters, standing up from the couch and stretching his limbs. His toned tummy peeks out from under his lifted shirt.

"Karina will be home soon anyway," you say. "And I’m not ready to play pretend in front of her yet." The thought of confessing to your roommate that Jungkook is now your boyfriend makes you shudder.

It was one of the conditions that made you briefly reconsider if you could really pull this off or if Jungkook should find another girl. You didn’t just have to act in front of the cameras – everyone had to believe that you and Jungkook are a couple, including your friends and family. You dread the day you have to tell your parents.

You know they once secretly hoped Jungkook would become your boyfriend when you were older, but as he became famous and the public started scrutinising his every move, your parents grew wary of his wild, reckless side.

You follow Jungkook to the door.

"You think she’ll believe us?"

"I dunno," you shrug. "Not sure if she’ll buy it. She’ll probably be suspicious since I’ve never talked about you in that way when we gossip, but I think we’ve practised enough to at least make it look like we love each other."

Jungkook nods and hugs you briefly. "We’ll figure it out." He steps out of your apartment, typing on his phone. "My manager sent me details about our first public appearance." He scans the text, but quickly looks up at you again with an annoyed frown. "Ah, so many words. I’ll just forward you the messages." With a sweet smile and a quick wave, he starts to leave, but you tug at the back of his shirt.

You cup his face, pulling him down to you, and plant a kiss on his lips.

"You’re my boyfriend now. Act like it."

1K notes · View notes

fastandcarlos · 6 months ago

Text

Through The Years : ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton

summary: you've been with lewis since day one, and you've got the instagram posts still saved to show just how much you guys have been through over the years

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked ynusername, mercedesamgf1 and 2,419,593 others

lewishamilton: WORLD CHAMPION BABY 🏆🏎️

291,492 comments

username1: always knew you were destined for greatness

username2: congrats champ 🏆

ynusername: pretty cool to say I’m not dating a world champ 💕

lewishamilton: @/ynusername you’re welcome 😂

username3: IM SO PROUD OF YOU LEWIS!!

nicorosberg: I’ll get you next year 😂

kimimatiasraikkonen: amazing season lewis, congratulations 👏🏻

username4: my world champ 🌍🏆

username5: we always knew that you’d get there…first of many 🫶🏻

jensonbutton: nice to see the trophy coming back to british seas 🎉

username6: cannot wait for you to be world champion for the next twenty thousand seasons 🥺

aussiegrit: amazing season, great racing with you this year!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, nicorosberg and 992,138 others

ynusername: apparently i'm a mercedes girl now, 2012 season incoming and i'm here for it, wishing you all the luck in the world my love

32,103 comments

username7: five years on and I’m still so thankful that lewis has you in his corner yn ❤️

jensonbutton: mercedes is the best team anyway 💙🏎️

username8: it’s taken years but she’s finally convinced 😂

username9: if you ever change your mind I’ll come and be a mercedes girl instead

lewishamilton: thank you for always being my biggest fan my love 💞

ynusername: @/lewishamilton always on your side 😘

username10: another world title pending…

username11: lewis doesn’t need luck, the title is his yn!!

nicorosberg: still can’t believe you’re not wearing my shirt around the paddock 🙄

ynusername: @/nicorosberg last time I checked I wasn’t dating you 🤷🏻‍♀️

username12: this is the level of girlfriend I aspire to be

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 1,982,503 others

lewishamilton: yn said we weren't allowed to have children yet so i went and got the next best thing, introducing roscoe 🐶❤️

148,580 comments

username13: omg roscoe is just the cutest 😭😭

ynusername: I already deal with a child every day living with you 😂😂

lewishamilton: @/ynusername stop exposing me like this!!

schecoperez: can’t wait to meet roscoe at the paddock soon!

username14: proudest dog dad ever!

username15: can I also be adopted by lewis and yn like roscoe please???

aussiegrit: how much are you paying poor yn to dogsit during race weekends 🤔

lewishamilton: @/aussiegrit she’s paid in love and affection don’t you worry 😂

username16: YET…there’s hope for the future still!!

valtteribottas: how have you adopted a dog and only just told me now? 😡

username17: roscoe is already my best friend and no one else’s

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, valtteribottas and 3,491,508 others

lewishamilton: still just as sweet to win all these years on, thank you mercedes fans for your continued support

104,592 comments

username18: true legend of formula 1 🤩

valtteribottas: congratulations, so proud to be your teammate 🏎️

username19: a decade on and still your number one fan!!

maxverstappen1: let someone else have a win for one will you? 😂

ynusername: and I’m still just as proud to see you on the podium as I was all those years ago 💕💕

username20: it’s unfair how talented one man can be 😭

username21: just tell us your secrets pls 😂

username22: all the other drivers wishing that they could be as talented as you!!

kimimatiasraikkonen: couldn’t think of a better guy to be p2 behind ☺️

danielricciardo: can you just retire already and leave us alone??

lewishamilton: @/danielricciardo: you’re stuck with me a little while longer yet

username23: no one else will ever compare to you…

hulkhulkenberg: teach me how to overtake like you 🙏🏻

username24: I’m not prepared for the day we experience f1 without this man 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 859,182 others

ynusername: oh yeah...did i mention that i have a husband now?? 🥺

47,620 comments

username25: my two favourite people in the world are married…I can’t cope 😭

danielricciardo: congratulations, couldn’t be happier for the two of you 🥂

valtteribottas: we had the best time celebrating you guys ❤️

username26: how did they manage to get married and keep it an entire secret from the world???

username27: I want to see all the photos asap

landonorris: okay and my invite was where exactly??

ynusername: @/landonorris whoops must’ve got lost in the post somewhere 🤷🏻‍♀️

username28: the ultimate boyfriend material just became ultimate husband material

charles_leclerc: couldn’t have happened to two nicer people 🫶🏻

username29: my heart just skipped a beat with pure happiness for this 🥺

lewishamilton: have I mentioned how proud I am to be your husband? 💞

ynusername: @/lewishamilton I bet not as proud as I am to be your wife!

username30: why do I feel like I’ve been betrayed by not being told this news sooner??

georgerussell63: fyi best wedding I’ve ever been too!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and 2,492,608 others

lewishamilton: our greatest blessing is yet to come, yn and i are so happy to share that we are expecting our very own little one just before christmas...i could not be any happier as we start this new chapter ❤️❤️❤️

149,528 comments

landonorris: ah I’m so happy for you two!!

username31: omg this is just the best news ever!!

username32: my two faves are having a baby 🤯

schecoperez: I’ll make sure to pass all my tips onto you 😂

lewishamilton: @/schecoperez I’ll be needing all of them

username33: I’ve never been happier then I am right now 😭

ynusername: I can’t wait for this next adventure with you 💕

lewishamilton: @/ynusername no one else I’d rather do this with!!

charles_leclerc: cannot wait to meet your little one at the paddock soon!

jensonbutton: being a parent is the best feeling in the world ❤️

username34: I’ve waited so long to see this post and now it’s finally happening 🎉

username35: nobody speak to me for the next nine months

valtteribottas: uncle duties pending…

username36: they’re going to be the best parents I can already tell

carlossainz55: I know how much this means to you two…congratulations!

username37: THIS IS EVERYTHING 🥺

nicorosberg: simply couldn’t be happier, the biggest congratulations 👏🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux and 729,501 others

ynusername: the best daddy i could ever dream of our little girl having, on cloud nine right now ⛅️

33,495 comments

lewishamilton: thank you for giving me the greatest gift ever 💞💞

username38: dad lewis is just something else 😭

carmenmmundt: I can’t wait for all the cuddles asap!!!!

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt I cannot wait to introduce you as soon as were at a race 😭

username39: my heart can’t cope with how adorable these photos are

georgerussell63: well these are just a little bit cute eh??

username40: thank you yn for blessing my timeline like this

username41: it’s not fair how one baby can be so cute 🤩

landonorris: this kid is too cute to be lewis’ surely 😂😂

username42: you can just tell she’s already got lewis wrapped right around her finger 😂

charles_leclerc: stop rubbing it in how cute your daughter is 😂

username43: ultimate daddy’s girl right here 🥺🥺

sebastianvettel: these photos are adorable yn, so happy for you guys!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 1,492,043 others

lewishamilton: everything in life i do for these guys, everything i've ever wanted and more

42,291 comments

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

1K notes · View notes

spideyjimin · 3 months ago

Text

sweet love | pjm

⤷ part of the dads universe

⏤ pairing: coffee shop owner!jimin x female reader

⏤ genre: parents au, exes to lovers, fluff, and smut

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ summary: jimin is the father of your four-year-old daughter, moon, and he’s also your ex. an ex you never considered getting back to, but that wasn’t until you both found yourself being single again. watching a movie with moon every sunday became the perfect excuse to flirt together discreetly. a flirt that brought back ten years of sweet love.

⏤ words: 14,388

⏤ warnings: mention of pregnancy, mention of breakup, sexual tension, flirting, long-haired!jimin, little moon is sick, mention of jealousy, some teasing, a lot of making out, mention of struggles after a breakup, praising, mention of postpartum struggles, some swearing, pet names, thigh riding, dirty talking, masturbation, dom!jimin, big cock!jimin, missionary, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, nipple play, creampie, and multiple orgasms

⏤ author’s note: hiiii guys ✨ so here you finally have sweet love!! as “before you”, it’s an old fic that i rewrote and in this one i’ve added extra scenes and conversations. it was definitely fun to rewrite it and make it part of the dads universe 🤗 hope you’ll enjoy it & happy jimin day 💞

Slowly, you open the door of your daughter’s bedroom.

“Are you ready?” You ask your small daughter.

She’s struggling to put on her little blue dress, but today, she insisted on dressing by herself. Apparently, a little girl at her school already does everything alone, and Moon, your four-year-old daughter, wants to be just like her. But in general, your little daughter has been showing you that she wants to become more and more independent.

You can totally understand her, you absolutely want her to do things on her own but it’s also okay to ask for a little help.

“Let me help, booboo.”

You rush in her direction to help her out with her dress. She doesn’t push you away or anything, she just lets you give her a hand. As you do so, you simply can’t believe that she is already four years old. For you, she’ll forever be the tiny little baby that she was at her birth.

Moon was born prematurely, almost five weeks before the due date. She was tiny and more fragile, but she quickly grew once outside and she easily gained weight. The doctors and nurses were actually very impressed by her fast growth. You still remember how proud you were of her ⏤ and you’re still very proud of everything she accomplishes.

But since the day she was born, you can only see her as a tiny little baby. Your tiny baby.

“Mommy, daddy is coming soon?” Her little eyes look up at you.

You quickly glance down at your watch to check what time it is.

“He should be coming any minute,” you tell her.

Moon’s father, Jimin, isn't your partner anymore, and today is the day he’s coming to pick her up to spend the week with her. When you broke up with Jimin, you agreed to share Moon’s custody. One week she’s with you, the next one she’s with Jimin. In the last three years, everything has been working out pretty well.

“Have you already chosen the movie you want to watch?”

For the past couple of weeks, the day you or Jimin pick up Moon at the other’s place, the three of you watch a movie together. You always come around 2 pm to enjoy a good afternoon together. Moon is always the one to choose the movie, and you and her father just let her do. It’s better if she enjoys this moment as much as she can. She doesn’t like watching tv, but she can open an exemption for her disney movies.

Since she’s a little baby, you’ve been watching all the disney movies with her so she would know them when she’s older. Today, she loves them so much that she just wants to watch them, making you and Jimin watch them again and again.

“Not sure yet,” she answers. “We can choose when daddy comes.”

“Okay, booboo.”

The dress is finally correctly put on your baby, she looks so beautiful. Every week, when Jimin takes her, it always breaks your heart. You perfectly know she’ll be in good hands but being apart from your baby is tough. If things depended on you, you’d be 24/7 around your daughter. But that’s life. She has a father who isn’t your partner anymore, and she deserves to be with him and to be loved by him. The only perk of sharing custody is that you can do your own things when Moon is at her father’s.

Your eyes roam at the tiny little girl standing in front of you, causing a smile to spread on your face. She looks a lot like her father. She isn’t totally a mini-living version of him, but she inherited a lot of his traits. There’s also a lot about her personality that reminds you of him. She clearly takes a lot after him. However, your favorite thing about their resemblance is the way she smiles with her eyes just like him.

The doorbell rings, making your daughter run to the entrance to open the door to her beloved daddy. She always does that when he comes, she always wants to be the first to see him. As you leave her bedroom to join the two of them, you hear Jimin’s voice.

“My little princess,” he says before grabbing his little daughter.

From afar, you watch this tender moment between a father and a daughter. Their reunion every two weeks melts your heart. It just perfectly shows the sweet and gentle love they have for each other. Even if today you aren’t with Jimin anymore, for sure, you chose the best father for your daughter.

As you see them today, you believe that breaking up was the best decision you both took three years ago. Things wouldn’t be as they are today, you’re completely sure about it. Most probably your little family would be more broken, and you’re convinced that you wouldn’t even speak with your ex which in the end would be absolutely sad.

At first, you deeply regretted offering your daughter this kind of dysfunctional family. For a long time, you were persuaded that she would be destroyed because of this separation that happened when she was only seven months old. However, as you and Jimin made everything to remain friends for her own good, you got to see your daughter blooming into this remarkable human being. In the end, this dysfunctional family is her kind of normal because you always made sure she came first.

“Hey,” you say as you get closer to the two of them.

Jimin’s face turns to look at you, his smile never leaving his face. Your heart squeezes when his eyes lock with yours. He looks absolutely stunning with that brown polo and black classic pants. His sleeves are rolled up, and you can see in his hands a black cap. His strong arms tightly hold your little princess who is now looking at you too.

Lately, things have changed between you and Moon’s father. After you ended things with your ex, a sexual tension has been growing between the two of you. At first, it was just a simple flirt between the two of you, something completely innocent. Honestly, you let it happen because it reminded you of the ten years you spent with him. It felt good to be back to how things were.

Seeing movies every sunday with your daughter is just an excuse to spend more time together. Honestly, it’s good to be able to spend more time together. Also, you’ve noticed how happier your baby is after the now-weekly movie session. In the end, this little excuse to flirt more and be more together has a lot of positive outcomes.

None of you has actually thought of what could eventually happen if you decide to ever go further than flirting. However, you are both trying to be extremely careful because there is Moon. Any decision that you might take will impact her first, and you both want to keep this dynamic that has been working for three years now.

“Hi, yn,” Jimin says as he takes a step closer in your direction.

The man presses a kiss on your cheek, causing an intense wave of heat to suddenly grow inside you. Lately, every time he presses a soft kiss on your cheeks or even if his body brushes against yours, you instantly feel extremely hot. The power the man holds over you still blows your mind.

Moon also takes advantage to press a kiss on your other cheek, and you smile as the two of them simply show you affection.

“Mama is really beautiful,” your daughter says as she looks now to her dad.

Your daughter always adores complimenting you, she probably takes that after her father. While you were together, the man would shower you with compliments, it was his way of showing his love for you. It honestly made you extremely happy, and now, you have this little pumpkin who constantly does the same.

“She really is!” Jimin agrees, his eyes still devouring you.

Your eyes don’t ever leave his figure. Jimin has been letting his hair grow lately, and you believe that it suits him really well. With the cap in his hand, you can totally picture him with it on his long hair. He must look like a whole damn snack. A snack you’d definitely love to take a bite.

“And both of you also are very handsome!” you reply with a bright smile on your face.

They are more than handsome. They are perfect. The most perfect human beings you have ever laid eyes on. Well, technically, Moon is only this perfect because the man holding her right now made love to you almost five years ago. She is perfect because her father is too.

For a brief moment, your eyes glance at the two of them, but every time they land on Jimin, all you can sense is the growing sexual tension. The tension between you and Jimin has reached its highest peak for the past few days. The man in front of you has been texting you a lot, being quite flirty with you, and honestly, he would have preferred if the two of you were alone. But today, he’s here for his daughter. For you, he already has some ideas behind his mind for another day.

“So, we’re going to watch that movie?” Jimin asks your little daughter.

His eyes move from you to his princess. Every time he looks at her, all he thinks about is the ten years of sweet love he shared with you. The ten years spent with you were definitely the best years of his life, and just like you, today, he doesn’t regret how things have changed between the two of you. For sure, he would have preferred to give another kind of family to his baby. If he could, he would give her the same kind of family he grew up in.

But it’s life.

Things can’t always be the way we want them, but Jimin has been trying to give the best to his daughter. Being on good terms with you has always been his top priority because he knows it will affect your little baby. Her happiness comes before anything else.

“Yes!” Moon exclaims with delight.

The three of you head to the living room, Jimin sitting on the couch while you grab the remote control. He sits on the couch with Moon on his lap, she gets all comfortable in her father’s arms before you quickly join them. As you turn the tv on, you take a seat next to your ex. Your little baby looks at you with a bright smile on her face, showing you just how much happiness this moment brings to her.

“Which movie do you want to watch?”

Moon starts thinking about what she’d like to see but knowing her, it’s probably going to take her three hours before she makes a decision.

“What about Frozen?” you suggest as you set Disney + on tv.

“No,” she says, shaking her head.

“Zootopia?” Jimin proposes.

Moon doesn’t seem convinced by your suggestions. That girl doesn’t watch that much tv but she’s still very tough when it comes to choosing something. On top of that, she’s also extremely tired today. Last night, she wasn’t feeling very well which led her to not sleep a lot. Most probably, she’s going to fall asleep during the movie but it’ll be okay. You prefer that honestly.

“Raya!” She almost screams as she sees the movie being suggested on the screen.

“Okay, booboo,” you say as you select Raya and the last dragon.

Moon gets all comfortable on her father’s lap after he pulls a blanket on her small body. You smile as you see them. The bond between a father and a daughter is truly magical. Every time you see Jimin and Moon interacting together, it reminds you of the close relationship you have with your father. He has always been there for you, he has always given you the right amount of love, and since you were a little baby, you’d do anything for him.

As you see Moon and Jimin, you know that they’ll share the same bond. It will for sure be different but it will be a very strong one. Plus, she’s a total daddy’s girl. She has Jimin wrapped around her little fingers, and he’ll do anything for her. For sure, in the future, she’ll be the one doing everything for him.

On the couch, you try to get as close as possible to them, but you also try to not stick your body against your ex's. Although things are getting to a completely new place with him, you’re just scared to do something completely inappropriate, especially with Moon around. When there’s just the two of you, it’s okay to be very touchy or to be flirty, but when Moon is around and awake, you try to be very careful with everything you do.

The movie starts, but you already know it by heart. Your daughter adores it so much, you have seen it a million times. But honestly, you also like the movie so you don’t mind watching it over and over again.

As the movie progresses, Jimin slowly moves closer to you while your baby is falling asleep in his lap. Since he’s really subtle, you don’t even notice his body getting closer to yours.

“She must be pretty exhausted,” Jimin whispers in your ear, causing you to jump with fear.

“Gosh, you scared me, Jimin!” You press your hand on your chest before looking up at him.

His face is very close to yours, his hot breath is falling on your face, and his dark orbs are glued on you. The last time you were this close was a week ago, at his place. Before the movie session, you both prepared some snacks in the kitchen, and you almost bumped into each other. That closeness almost caused you to kiss but it didn’t happen since Moon abruptly appeared in the kitchen.

Your heart is beating extremely fast in your chest. He’s way too close to you, and you don’t really know what to do. So your eyes glance down at your daughter to avoid looking at the man who has been haunting your wildest dreams for the past few weeks. As you look at your baby, you can see that she’s already sleeping peacefully on her daddy.

“She didn’t sleep well last night,” you admit as you watch her sleeping like a little angel. “She wasn’t feeling well, and she spent most of the night awake.”

Slowly, you glance up at him to catch a bit of his reaction. His facial expression gets softer as he realizes that his baby must be pretty exhausted. Nights like this are something you are both familiar with. Moon is still very young so she gets sick pretty easily which also impacts her sleep quality. Thankfully, she takes naps the day after to compensate.

“I’m actually relieved that she fell asleep now, I was scared she wouldn’t sleep at all today,” you tell him.

“But how was she this morning?” He asks with concern.

“She was sleepy but I put her in front of her favorite cartoons,” putting her favorite cartoons always makes her sleep, and it’s something that surprises you. “My parents were supposed to come but I canceled last minute to see if she could sleep a bit before you’d arrive.”

The entire morning, she was lying on the couch with her little milk in her hand and her eyes glued to the tv. Those things comfort her when she’s not doing well, and they always help to put her back to sleep. However, this morning, she only slept for about an hour.

“She didn’t sleep a lot, I guess she was just too excited to see you today.”

A small smile appears on his face. He also gets pretty excited when he needs to come to your place to pick her up. He loves to see his daughter.

“You could have told me,” he says. “I would have come on another day.”

“She’s not doing well, Jimin, and she needs her father.”

Just the thought of telling her that her daddy wouldn’t be coming today devastates you. You know how much she was looking forward to this exact moment. Nothing is as important as this right here.

“She would have cried if you didn’t come. She loves those movie sessions with us, she loves to see us coming to pick her up every Sunday. This is what helps her to feel good. I don’t want to take this away from her, especially when she’s not feeling well.”

Jimin presses a soft kiss on your forehead. Even if today you aren’t together anymore, he’s sure he chose the best mama for his baby. There’s nobody else he would have loved to have a kid with, and if he ever wants to have more, it’ll be with you. Nobody else. Even all the exes he has accumulated for the past three years can’t compare with you.

His mother told him once that no matter what, he’ll always be drawn to you. Not only you are his first love, but you’re also the mother of his child. Even if you’ll never be together anymore, the love and bond between you will always be special.

However, today, he’s convinced that it goes beyond that. Today, he’s convinced that he’ll never be able to love anyone else. Those last three years without you have taught him that. He has grown to understand that a life without you isn’t even possible.

The two of you started dating when you were only fifteen. You were very young but madly in love. Nobody thought things would work between you because you were very different. Jimin was the typical bad boy while you were more of a discreet girl. It almost looked like a cliché teenage movie, but eventually, the two of you completely changed the other.

After eight solid years of relationship, things started to get pretty rocky. All due to a friend you met at work. Jimin considered that he was clearly flirting with you, even in front of him when you strongly believed it wasn’t the case. Slowly, jealousy started to take a big place in your relationship and it destroyed the trust you both had for each other.

Since you didn’t want to lose Jimin, you took some distance from that coworker but it was obvious that your relationship with your boyfriend would never be the same. Things were different but you were doing everything to try to save it. In the middle of all that turbulence, you got pregnant, and you both worked harder to make it work.

Moon’s arrival clearly changed everything, but she didn’t help to improve your relationship. Everything was already falling apart when you got pregnant. When you realize it, you simply decide to end everything before it got worse. It wasn’t easy for the two of you. It was definitely hard to put behind ten years of love.

But it was the best decision for Moon.

“And how are you feeling?”

Jimin knows that if Moon hasn’t slept, you didn’t too. His little girl always needs her mama when she’s not feeling well because nobody can bring as much comfort to her as you do.

His concern warms your heart. Beyond being all flirty with you, Jimin has also shown a lot more love to you. In the end, you’re not just Moon’s mother. Slowly, you rest your head on his shoulder because you need to feel him in any way. He puts his head on top of yours, his heart being overwhelmed with love. Two of the women he loves the most are snuggled up against him.

“I’m tired, but I’ve known worse,” you whisper.

The first weeks of Moon’s life were a nightmare, and you survived them. She was very tiny and needed her mother and father. She’d cry a lot which was totally normal for a newborn since she wasn’t able to take care of herself. On top of that, she was born prematurely so you’d visit the pediatrician quite often to make sure she’d be alright.

So if you survived that period, you believe that nothing can be worse than that.

Although your daughter is sleeping peacefully, you and Jimin keep watching the movie together. This feels like heaven for the two of you. Almost like you were brought back to three years ago.

Once the movie is finished, Jimin takes Moon in his arms and places her on her little bed. He’s definitely not going to take her home now, he prefers that she sleeps. From her room’s door, you watch him put her carefully on the bed, an apparent smile growing on your face. He pushes the sheets on her tiny body before joining you.

As his eyes roam your face, he tries to think of a way to express his wish to stay longer. He’s thinking about how to formulate it without sounding like a desperate man. However, he ignores that you want him to stay.

“Do you want to stay until she wakes up?” you offer him.

Without any second thoughts, he nods, more than happy to stay longer than he was supposed to initially.

“A glass of wine?” you suggest.

“No, I still need to drive Moon to my place,” he tells you. “But if you have anything else, I won’t say no.”

Certainly, you have more than just wine to drink in your house. Your little daughter is too young to drink alcohol, but she’s obsessed with apple juice. You always make sure to have enough of her favorite juice at home so for sure you have some of it. The two of you leave her little room to head to the kitchen. Once you’re inside, you open the fridge to see what you have inside to drink.

“I have some leftovers of Moon’s apple juice in the fridge,” you tell your ex. “Or I have water,” you show him the bottle on the worktop of the kitchen.

“I’ll take the apple juice.”

His fridge is also full of apple juice just for his little baby. Every Saturday, he does some grocery shopping, and he buys everything Moon loves. He constantly makes sure to have all her little things in his house in case some emergency appears and she has to stay with him on the week she’s supposed to be with you.

You take the juice box as well as two glasses, and you fill them with the sweet juice. You hand one glass to Jimin before taking the other for yourself. His eyes never cease to glance at you. He takes one sip before putting his glass on the little table. The man comes closer to you, your heart hammering in your chest as the distance between the two of you slowly disappears.

Your mind keeps wondering what he’s going to do. After ten years of relationship, you can easily say that this man right here is completely unpredictable. He can go from sweet to dirty in a blink of an eye. And when he gets dirty, he really gets super dirty. His super dirty mind will bring the two of you to bed, his head between your thighs.

Once his face is super close to yours, your eyes are instantly fluttering shut. A smirk grows on his face as he watches you closing your eyes. His breathing caresses your face while his sweet scent lingers in the air. Your heart is beating extremely fast, ready to leave you at any moment.

“There’s something we started last week that Moon didn’t let us finish,” he whispers in your ear with his deepest voice.

Shivers run down your spine, and you keep your eyes close, too scared to take a look at the man in front of you. You perfectly can picture the expression on his face right now. For sure, the dirtiest smirk is on his face, and his eyes are filled with lust. That expression will for sure have you so weak that you’ll instantly fall into his arms.

“What are you talking about?” you tease him a bit.

You perfectly know what he’s referring to, but it won’t hurt to just play a tiny bit with him. Well, most probably, Jimin will tease you a million times more.

“Do you want me to remind you?”

Instantly, you open your eyes, your heart pounding extremely fast as you realize what is about to happen. For the past week, your mind has been thinking over and over again about the moment where you almost kissed. That moment, you desperately wanted to taste his lips on yours again but Moon put an end to that.

Jimin’s eyes are hungrily devouring you while he waits for an answer from you. Your eyes move from his eyes to his plump lips, resting a little too much on them while you wonder how it will feel to kiss him again. Will it be like before? Or will it feel like kissing him for the first time? The more you think about it, the more you want to taste them.

“Yes, remind me what Moon interrupted,” you almost beg.

The black-haired man doesn’t waste another second before pressing his lips against yours for a fervent kiss. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you while he hungrily kisses you.

After three years, you’re kissing again. It seems unbelievable.

His lips are extremely soft, but you were kind of expecting it. His plump lips have always felt soft when you both kiss, and you always loved that. However, even if you were expecting this softness, this kiss feels like the first one. This seems like it’s the first time you’re doing it while you have ten years of kissing history. Slowly, he starts moving his lips to passionately kiss you.

Soon enough, his tongue is licking your lips so you can open your mouth. His tongue is desperate to meet yours after all this time. He’s desperate to deepen this kiss because just your lips on each other aren’t enough for him. He has been dreaming of this for the past couple of days.

His hands move to your waist before bringing your body closer to his. He’s craving to feel more friction and to simply feel your body pressed against his. This sudden closeness after three years of simply co-parenting is driving both of you completely crazy. The two of you are starting to pant hard but it clearly doesn’t matter.

His hands snail up to cup your face in them while the kiss becomes more and more ardent. This kiss is clearly indicating how desperate you both are for each other. The sexual tension has really been too much to handle lately.

Out of breath, you break the kiss before pressing your forehead against his. Jimin is smiling, his eyes glued to your face while you try to catch your breath. Even after all those years, he still finds you extremely pretty and attractive.

As you look down at his hands, you notice the tattoo on his wrist. Four years ago, a couple of days after Moon’s birth, he got the number 13 tattooed. Not only does it stand for his birth date but it also stands for Moon’s birth date. Just like her father, she was born a 13. That tattoo always warms your heart in unexplained ways.

“We should probably move to my room in case this goes any further,” you suggest before looking up at him.

“But do you want to take this further?” Jimin asks.

Even if your body is showing all the apparent signs that you want to do more than just kissing, he wants to be completely sure you want this. He doesn’t desire you to regret this tomorrow morning when you wake up. Even though this might be a simple one-night stand, he doesn’t want you to regret it.

“More than you can imagine,” you reply before pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

The father of your child kisses you back, more than excited to show you how much he misses you. You intertwine your fingers together before guiding you both to your bedroom. The two of you try to be as quiet as possible since Moon is peacefully sleeping, and you don’t want to wake her up after the terrible night she had.

Once inside your bedroom, you make sure to close the door. It wouldn’t be a great idea to have Moon seeing you doing unholy things with her father. Hopefully, she’ll sleep for a good two extra hours, and you won’t need to worry about being caught by your daughter. But it’s better to take precautions.

Jimin’s eyes roam the room where he hasn’t ever come in three years. After your breakup, you sold your shared apartment to move into a new one. The memories shared in that place were too intense and none of you wanted to stay there. Quickly after, you moved into this apartment but the only room Jimin never got to see was your bedroom.

There is barely any decoration. There’s just a big bed in the middle of the room, two nightstands, one on each side of the bed, and there are some pictures here and there, mostly pictures of Moon. This room reminds him of his own bedroom.

After living with you, it was hard to be on his own. A bedroom without you by his side was also extremely hard so he decided to put the bare minimum. However, his bedroom feels constantly empty, almost as if someone is missing. Today, he’s convinced that you’re the one missing.

Jimin kisses you again once his eyes have done a quick tour of your bedroom. Naturally, you move to your bed where you know things will take a sexual turn. You can still stop things if you desire but your body is desperately craving for your ex. Your body needs are completely clouding your mind, and you honestly don’t care. Right now, all you want is to be intoxicated by your first love.

As you break the kiss, you take his brown polo off, revealing his bare skin to your hungry eyes. You enjoy the view while being sat on his lap; his torso is in full display just for you. The first thing that catches your eyes is his ‘nevermind’ tattoo, it’s still extremely big but you always loved this tattoo so damn much. Then, you can’t help but notice how toned his torso has become.

“You’ve been working out a lot for the past three years,” you say as your fingers touch his rib tattoo.

“After Moon’s birth, I became so lazy, and it was time to work out again like I used to.”

Jimin used to work out so much before your daughter’s arrival. There wasn’t a day where he wasn’t at the gym working out or he wasn’t doing any sport. He used to dance a lot as well as doing karate.

“Do you still dance?”

Your fingers trace from his tattoo to his chest, causing Jimin to shiver at the feeling of your fingertips brushing against his skin.

“Of course, I never stopped,” he replies before pressing a quick kiss on your lips. “Dancing saved me after our breakup.”

Hearing that your breakup equally devastated him breaks your heart. Jimin deserves all the best in the world because he’s such a beautiful soul. Never before have you met someone like him. He was your sunshine when you were together. Unfortunately, things weren’t working anymore, and it was definitely better to simply let go even if it was painful.

And it was.

Raising Moon on your own and not having Jimin constantly by your side was extremely hard. For sure, it was the most complicated time you faced in your life. But today, things are better and that experience made you grow as a human.

You press your lips against his, expecting to reassure him in some way. He licks your bottom lip before he grips it with his teeth, making you moan. As he hears your sweet moan, his dick twitches inside his pants. As the sweet moan leaves your lips, you open your mouth, and Jimin seizes the occasion to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Another moan leaves your pretty lips at the feeling, and unintentionally, Jimin flexes his toned thigh. That simple action is felt in all the right places in your body, making your pussy clench around emptiness.

Jimin instantly smirks, looking like the devil himself, and his hands snail down on your body to take off your shirt. His fingers softly caress your back as he brings you closer to him. His soft gestures create goosebumps all over your skin and a small whimper leaves your lips.

His lips come closer to your ear before he whispers in the shell of it. “Take your pants off, honey.”

Slowly, you stand up to undress in front of the man. He bites his lower lip as you unbutton your jeans, his length growing harder in his pants at the sight you’re offering him. He hasn’t seen you dressed in so little clothing in more than four years. The last time it happened was during your pregnancy. After Moon’s birth, you simply avoid having any sexual interactions.

His cock twitches when he sees you wearing only your underwear. Even after giving birth to his favorite human, you look fine as hell. The thought of knowing that in a couple of minutes you won’t be wearing anything is slowly driving him crazy.

When you start walking closer to him, Jimin adjusts himself in the bed, his back pressed against the headboard. He spreads his legs, subtly making you understand to take a seat on only one leg. There’s no doubt that he wants you to ride his thigh, and nothing in the world would make you happier than doing it.

Dry humping is something you used to do a lot when you were together. Your sex drive was insanely high during your whole relationship, and you’d have sex in very unusual places, even in public. It was hard to resist each other.

As you place yourself on his thigh, Jimin’s eyes roam your body. He bites harder on his bottom lip, especially once your body is on his thigh. This is highly alluring.

“You look like a fucking dream!” He whispers.

In those three years, he has seen a very huge amount of women but you are for sure the prettiest he has ever seen. He still perfectly remembers how he constantly compared all those women to you. It was most probably toxic, but you’re the only person he has ever found pretty.

The compliment makes you smile as you know it’s a sincere one. After giving birth to Moon, it was hard to look at yourself in the mirror. Your body changed so much but with time, you learned to love it even more than before. That body you were despising was the first home to your baby and it also provided her all the nutrients she needed after she joined you. That was more than magical. Your body deserved to be loved for that.

With the way you’re sitting on his leg, Jimin now has a proper view of your black laced panties. They hide enough of your private area but they also reveal just enough to make him want to see your pussy. His eyes are completely glued to your clothed pussy pressed against his dark pants.

As you’re scared that Moon will wake up in the next few minutes, you waste no time in rolling your hips against his toned thigh. One of the perks of all the dancing and karate classes he took younger is his extremely toned thighs. Even when he stops working out or dancing, they are still super toned.

But damn, those thighs have already procured you so much pleasure.

“Fuck, yn,” he groans when you start moving your hips against his thigh.

Jimin presses his lips on yours for a filthy kiss, his tongue passing past your lips to meet yours. This feels more than good. He forgot how everything about you can be addictive, and damn, he wants to do more than this. He wants to fuck you senseless until all you can think about is him.

As his tongue plays with yours inside your mouth, his hands find their way to your waist and guide your hips as you’re straddling his thigh. A small moan leaves your lips but the man in front of you swallows it directly. Those intimate moments between you are something he has missed dearly. The connection you have is something extremely unique that he never experienced before with anyone else.

Even if he wasn’t virgin when he met you, he truly discovered everything with you. The two of you explored so many things in your sexuality, and it made the bond between you grow stronger. When he looks into your eyes, he can exactly tell what you want, he doesn’t need you to verbally express it, something he couldn’t understand with any other girl.

Your first love pushes his thigh firmly against your clothed pussy before flexing the muscle once more.

“I like how you’re riding my thigh, yn,” he whispers against your lips.

As you’re slowly moving your hips faster, you place your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. Jimin shivers as your soft hands touch his body.

“But I want to feel you properly,” he adds.

Of course, he’s enjoying this moment with all his soul but he craves more. One of his hands slides down on your body to tug aside the fabric of your panties until your clit is directly pressed against his black pants. A breath falls from your lips as you drag your pussy against the thick material of his pants.

Jimin pulls you firmly against his flexed muscle, and once his hands are back on your waist, he quickens the pace of your hips. Although you’re fighting as much as you can to not moan a lot, it’s almost impossible due to all the pleasure you’re feeling at the moment. This will for sure wake up your little baby. A trail of barely audible moans leaves your mouth, loving the friction of his pants against your pussy.

“I wish you didn’t have to hold back your moans, honey,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’d love to hear you moan my name.”

Jimin is a master when it comes to dirty talking. He just knows what to say and when to do it. In your ten years of relationship, he was able to make you come just with words which is extremely incredible.

As you’re riding his thigh harder and faster, his cock gets harder and tighter inside his pants. If he doesn’t do anything right now, he’ll explode in his pants. While you’re still completely euphoric by the way you’re riding his thigh, he lowers his pants and underwear a tiny bit to allow his cock to slap against his lower stomach.

When you notice the little monster being freed, your eyes glance down at it. His cock takes your breath away, standing proud in between your bodies. His fingers grab a hold of his cock before moving them up and down the length. This sight alone gets you wetter.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, his head slowly going back at the feeling of his fingers on his length and your clit rubbing against him. “You’re doing this so well, honey.”

Your teeth bite your bottom lip as you stare deep into his eyes. The intimacy of the eye contact with the friction against your clit makes the wave of pleasure grow intensely inside you. You know that you won’t last long before your orgasm hits you hard.

“Pleasuring yourself on my thigh while I touch myself,” he growls in your ear while his hand keeps pumping his cock. “It’s extremely hot, honey.”

Jimin runs his thumb over the tip of his cock, his teeth gripping his bottom lip between his teeth. The pace of his strokes on his cock follows the pace of your hips working on his thigh. You can see on his face that it’s also a matter of minutes or seconds before he’s coming on his hand.

“Fuck, yn,” his eyes glance down at your throbbing pussy rubbing against his thigh, “you’re doing it perfectly.”

At his words, you buck your pussy faster against his thigh. You can feel that you’re getting closer and closer to hitting your orgasm.

“Jimin,” his gaze meets yours once again when you say his name, “I’m so close...” you almost whimper.

The hand resting on your waist snails down on your body, his thumb starting to circle on your clit. It instantly sends you over the edge, the wave of pleasure hitting you hard. You bite your lips and close your eyes at the overwhelming feeling. You try as hard as possible to not moan as you don’t want to make too much noise.

The sight of you coming undone makes him come. Just like you, he bites his lips to refrain any moan to leave his lips. Your daughter’s sleep is extremely important. As the orgasm overwhelms him, cum flows on his hand and some spurts of cum hit his abs.

Your eyes glance down with marvel at the way he’s coming. His hot cum flowing from his head makes you want to lick it. Before any of you gets the time to do or say anything else, you hear the handle of your bedroom’s door moving.

“Shit, she’s awake,” you swear before quickly standing up to put your clothes back on.

As you’re putting the clothes on again, you give Jimin some towels to clean himself before he also puts his clothes back on. A loud knock is quickly heard, and Moon’s voice calls for you. Her little sleepy voice melts your heart instantly, causing you to feel sorry to have closed the door. But damn, you don’t regret anything that happened with Jimin.

Moon knocks again at the door before speaking once more. “Mama, why is your door closed?”

Once you’re fully dressed, you take one quick look at Jimin. His clothes are again on him but his hair is all messed up. Anyone looking at him can perfectly understand that he just had an orgasm. A small smile appears on your face.

Quickly, you run to the door and open it to your baby. To her surprise, she sees both her parents in the same room. That is something quite unexpected for her, but she’s happy that her mama and dadda get along so well.

“Why is dadda in your room?” She asks, her little finger pointing to her father.

As she raises the question, you know that you have like five seconds to come up with something otherwise it’ll be suspicious. Jimin gets closer to the two of you, his hand pushing his hair back to arrange it a bit.

“We were taking a little nap while you were sleeping,” he presses a small kiss on her forehead before taking her in his arms. “But how are you feeling, my little princess?”

Jimin knows that if he completely changes the conversation’s topic, Moon will forget about this little weird moment. None of you ever imagined being interrupted by your little daughter during such a moment, but that for sure made it unforgettable.

“Tired,” she simply replies before pressing her little head on the crook of his neck.

Your heart instantly melts, and you can’t help but press a soft kiss on her forehead. She’s absolutely adorable but you know that she’s sick. For sure, tomorrow, you’ll have to go to the doctor with her to see what’s going on with your little baby. You and Jimin hate to see her like that, you feel extremely powerless.

Jimin’s aware that he can’t just take her home like that, she needs her mama more than anything else right now.

“I’ll take you home with me now, baby,” he starts saying. “What do you think if mama comes with us?”

His eyes glance down at you to see your reaction. He believes it’d be a good idea that the three of you go to his place so Moon can fall asleep easier tonight.

“If mama is okay to come with us,” he adds.

Your hand brushes back your daughter’s hair so you can see her little face even if she’s hiding most of it. Nothing will ease your heart than going with them to Jimin’s place. Tonight, you know you won’t be able to sleep if she’s far away from you while being sick.

“I will come with you, booboo. Is that okay for you?” You ask her before pressing a sweet kiss on her plump cheek.

Of course, you’ll only go if she wants it. You would never want to make her feel uncomfortable in any way. You’ve already been a lot of times to his place when she was feeling sick, and it wouldn’t be something new. But this time around is different, you’ll be leaving your place together to go to his place. This never happened before, and you’re a bit scared that she wouldn’t feel comfortable.

“Yes, I want mama,” she says with a very little voice.

Your heart aches at her little voice. You hug Jimin to have your daughter in between the two of you. Feeling loved during this hard time for her will for sure help her, you know it. She always calls for the missing parent when she’s sick.

“I’ll come then,” you whisper.

Although this little hug is mostly for your daughter, your and Jimin’s hearts are also overwhelmed with love. This sweet and soft moment right after such a wild moment feels like going to heaven. The three of you close your eyes to enjoy this very rare moment.

This is family, an unbreakable bond between parents and their children.

The three of you are in Jimin’s kitchen.

Moon is sleeping once again in her father’s arms, she fell asleep right after eating her dinner, and you and Jimin are talking. After arriving at his place, you and her father prepared dinner together. You also took her temperature, and it’s unusually high. There’s no doubt that tomorrow, you’ll call her pediatrician to check up on her health. Something is definitely wrong with her, and it breaks your heart.

“Tomorrow, I’ll call the pediatrician to check if she has some availabilities.”

Your fingers run through her soft black hair, the exact same hair color as her father’s. She looks like a little angel when she sleeps, and when she’s sick, her little cheeks get pink which makes her look even cuter.

“I’m so worried,” you add.

Jimin’s eyes move from his daughter to you.

“She’s going to be okay, she’s a little fighter like her mama,” he tries to reassure you. “She’ll be fine in a week or so.”

“I know but my little mom’s heart always gets so concerned when she gets sick.”

His face gets closer to yours before his lips press a soft kiss on top of your head. This tender gesture really warms your heart. You’re more than thankful to have him by your side when it gets hard with Moon.

“It’s normal, but I’ll always be by your side, yn.”

When your eyes look up at the man holding your baby, you close the small distance between your faces by kissing him. Those past few days and especially today have confirmed that the flame that you thought had died three years ago is still there. Your heart still deeply loves Jimin. Your ex wasn’t expecting this at all but it definitely brings hope for the future.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

He presses another quick kiss on your lips.

“We've been on this together since the second Moon bloomed in your stomach,” his eyes look down at the little princess sleeping in his arms.

Being a father has been the biggest achievement of his life. Nothing brings more happiness than seeing his daughter bloom into the little person she’s becoming. She’s very strong and independent which always makes him feel pride.

Becoming the father of Moon only happened because you carried her for nine months before giving birth to her. He’s a father because the two of you worked together to bring her to life and to raise her. So, he’ll forever be thankful for it.

“I’ll put her in her bed, she’ll be more comfortable,” Jimin says before the two of you stand up. He holds Moon tightly in his arms as he walks to her little bedroom. You open the door for him, and once again, he puts her on her bed.

Hopefully, tonight, she’ll be able to sleep a bit more than she did last night as well as during the day. Your eyes glance down at your baby with concern. All you hope is that tomorrow she’ll feel at least a bit better because you won’t be able to handle seeing her like this for a long time.

Jimin leaves her bedroom after he makes sure that she’s safe under her bedsheets. Since Moon is deeply afraid of the dark, he leaves the door open so the light of the hallway lightens her room.

“Would you like to stay a little longer?” he asks while you’re walking in the hallway. “I’d like to suggest bringing you home,” he quickly glances at his daughter’s bedroom, “but there’s Moon.”

Jimin would have loved to drive you home so he’d get a tiny bit more time with you. However, his little princess is sleeping in her little bed. He can’t leave her here or to take her with you.

Your heart is beating fast. It’s a bit surprising that he’s proposing you to stay at his place. Well, it occurs you that maybe ⏤ just maybe ⏤ he wants to finish what you started at your place. You wouldn’t mind at all to end what you began earlier. Sex with Jimin has always been mind blowing. For sure, after three years, you still have to rediscover each other in bed.

“Well, I’d like to if you let me,” you finally say with obvious nervousness in your voice.

A bright smile appears on his face as he hears your words. He doesn’t dare to look at you as he also feels nervous. Obviously, he likes you and wants to maybe give another chance to your relationship.

But being around you, and even thinking of spending the night with you, makes him feel like this is all new. It makes him feel like he’s back to high school when he was trying to flirt with you more than ten years ago.

“There’s nothing I’d like more, yn,” he says while finally looking at you.

You’re now at the entrance of the living room, standing face to face. He leans against the outline of the door while crossing his arms against his chest, his eyes never once leaving yours. For a moment, you simply don’t speak, only looking at each other.

His eyes are sparkling, just like they did when you started dating thirteen years ago. You wonder if you’re looking at him the same way. Definitely, you really want to stay a little longer with him. It feels good to be around him. It feels good to be wanted all over again by your first love.

“In all honesty, yn,” Jimin says after a little while. “I would really like to give us a second chance.”

The past three years, he has been hooking up with a lot of girls. At first, it was to drown his sorrows, to get you out of his head. He knew he’d never find love in those women, and honestly, he didn’t want to love any of them. The pain of the breakup was still hard to handle.

However, a year ago, he fell in love with Gayeong. He really loved her, he even introduced her to Moon. In his mind, he was certain that he’d be with her for a long time. On your side, you were dating Seokhoon for two years. This new blended family was working just fine for all of you. Moon even adored Gayeong and Seokhoon.

Nevertheless, things with them ended. It was hard but slowly, everything changed between you. What was an innocent flirt turned into Sunday’s movies and suddenly, you’re here, wanting to give each other another chance.

And now, your heart is hammering like crazy in your chest, ready to burst any second.

“Flirting with you lately has brought me back to when we were fifteen,” a little smile appears on his face. “To when I was trying to desperately get you.”

You still remember perfectly how it felt to be chased by the one and only Jimin, the popular guy every girl desired to be with. You were young and very naive as well, but he was the first man to have ever truly seen you. Of course, you really wanted to start dating him, but you still make it a bit difficult for him to see how far he’d go to have you.

However, once you got together, you thought it’d be for life. Time prouved you wrong. Yet, lately, you’ve been feeling like probably he has been the one since the beginning. Maybe, you just needed some time apart to grow.

“Things are for sure different now due to the fact that we have a daughter,” his smile grows bigger as he mentions his daughter. “But the feeling is the same,” he pauses for a hot minute. “I want you.”

Right there and then, you feel the world freezing instantly. Even though it was pretty clear that he’s been wanting you back in your life, it’s something different to hear it from his mouth. It makes it feel real.

Although it warms your heart to hear those words, there is a harsh reality. Today, you have a daughter, and obviously, she’d understand you’re together. Most probably, she’d be super happy that her parents are back together. So, if things go wrong all over again, she’ll suffer the most from it.

There’s no doubt that no matter what, you’ll keep it cordial with Jimin. But it’d be too painful because this time around, Moon will be hurt.

“Jimin,” you break the small distance between you. Your face gets super serious, and Jimin almost instantly regrets his words. “As you said, things are different now. We can’t just step into a relationship like that. There’s Moon. If this all goes wrong, she’d be the first impacted.”

His eyes briefly close. The last thing he wants is to cause any harm to his daughter, but he can’t just push away his feelings for you. It’ll be unbearable to be around you and not be able to love you the way he wants.

“I know, yn,” he opens his eyes. “She’s always the person I put first under any circumstances,” his right hand travels to your cheek to caress it. “But right now, you’re the person I want to be with,” you close your eyes. “This whole thing of watching movies together wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t love you,” he marks a little break. “I never stopped loving you, yn. Never,” he insists on his last word.

Jimin being vulnerable like he is right now doesn’t happen often. Most of the time, he hides his feelings, too scared to be hurt. During your ten years of relationship, he wouldn’t hide anything from you. But he closed himself to you once you broke up. So this right here warms your heart beyond comprehension.

You rest your hand on top of his, stroking it with your thumb. “I don’t want to get hurt,” evident sadness can be heard in your voice. “I don’t want our daughter to get hurt.”

Your daughter’s father wishes he could promise that none of you will get hurt, but it’s a promise he can’t make. The future isn’t predictable. However, he can promise he will do everything in his power to avoid hurting any of you.

“I can’t promise that, yn,” he murmurs.

Hearing those words break your heart. It’s obvious he can’t guarantee that, life is full of surprises after all. The proof is that you broke up three years ago when you thought he’ll forever stood by your side.

“But I can promise you that I’ll do everything in my power to not do it,” you open your eyes to look at your first love. “That’s all I can do.”

You press your head against his chest while closing your eyes. Although you wish he’d say something else, you perfectly know that it’s the only thing he can promise. And it goes both ways. Obviously, you want to try again but there is a possibility where you’re the one hurting him. There is possibility where you’re responsible for your daughter’s pain.

Jimin wraps his arms around you before pressing a gentle kiss on top of your head. For a while, you simply stay like that. There’s nothing to be said nor that needs to be said. This is a moment you both need. Of course, there’s been a lot of flirting, and teasing lately which inevitably lead to what happened at your place. You don’t regret it. But it opens the door to a possibility where you both give another shot to your relationship.

However, it leaves you wondering if it is a good idea.

“Can I stay for the night?” you finally break the silence.”I don’t want to stay too far from Moon,” you try to find an excuse.

“Yes,” he instantly replies. “I’ll leave you my bed and I’ll sleep in the couch.”

This sounds like the correct approach, especially since you’re not sure about anything right now. Even though there’s nothing more you’d want but to sleep next to him, it’s better like that.

“I can sleep in the couch,” you tell him. “I almost invited myself to your place so no need to make you sleep on the couch.”

“You’re my guest so I’ll never make you sleep in my couch,” he starts saying. “And my couch can turn into a bed so don’t worry, yn.”

Well, knowing Jimin, you can argue as much as you can, he’ll stand his position. There’s no way he’ll let you sleep on the couch so no need to keep arguing. It’ll just be a waste of time for both of you.

“Okay,” you say.

You don’t let go of Jimin for a solid ten more minutes. It feels good to be in his arms, it feels good to only be intoxicated by his sweet scent. There’s no other place you’d want to be right now.

After that, he guids you to his bedroom. This is a place you’ve never seen before. It feels like you’re violating his intimate area. Your eyes wander in this very simply decorated room while he grabs some bedsheets.

“Would you want pajamas?” he proposes.

“If you don’t mind.”

Jimin simply nods before handing you one of his pajamas. He doesn’t have many pajamas, he only used them during winter as it gets very cold. Otherwise, he doesn’t use them at all.

“Thanks,” you smile at him while grabbing it.

Your baby’s daddy smiles back at you. “I’ll let you sleep. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” you tell him.

“Goodnight, yn,” he whispers before pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Goodnight, Jimin,” you reply with your eyes closed.

This morning, Moon woke up feeling great which was a huge contrast with how she was yesterday. But it eased your mother’s heart. So you took the decision with Jimin to not go to the pediatrician today, but you’ll keep a close eye on your baby.

When she saw you this morning, she was more than happy. She definitely wasn’t expecting it, you could tell it by the way her eyes were sparkling. She was even happier when both her parents dropped her at school. Afterwards, Jimin drove you to your place so you could get ready to go to work.

This weekend was intense, but one you’ll for sure never forget. You flirted with your ex-boyfriend, then had sex with him, and finally, had an openhearted conversation.

The entire day, your mind was constantly replaying Jimin's words, wondering what to do. However, what you’re certain of is that you want to have a conversation with him. So, you texted him that your mother would pick up Moon at school.

Jimin is the proud owner of a coffee shop. He opened it a couple of years ago, it was his dream. It wasn’t easy at first. There were a lot of expenses and it wasn’t easy to find customers. But slowly with time, it became easier.

As you step inside the little shop, you instantly notice that there are quite a lot of people. You aren’t actually very surprised. This coffee shop is currently a bit popular on instagram and tiktok, and in some way, it makes you incredibly proud of him.

Your eyes look around, admiring how it has been decorated. It’s been a while since you last came here. Well, if you think about it, the last time you were here was at the very early beginning. This shop has existed for like four years, it’s as old as Moon. So, it definitely has been awhile.

Jimin now has four employees helping him out with everything. At some point, it became just too much for one person so he slowly hired new people. Right now, he is behind the cash register, talking with someone. He’s smiling at the person, and you can’t help but find him adorable.

As he looks up, his gaze meets yours before his smile grows bigger. Although you informed him you’d like to speak, he wasn’t expecting you to actually come here. He thought that you’d like him to come to your place or something like that. However, it’s a very pleasant surprise.

You walk in his direction, queueing as it’d be rude to just pass before everyone else. You look at menu hanging behind Jimin, thinking about what you’d like to order. When you’re finally in front of him, you both look at each other with the brightest smiles.

“What would you like to order?” he asks.

“Well, I’d like to order the owner,” you teasingly say, causing Jimin to blush. “Together with a simple latte with soy milk and a portion of banana bread.”

For a brief moment, your baby daddy seems to be thinking about what he could reply to this.

“I can give you all of that,” he replies. “For the owner though, you’ll have to wait a little longer.”

“No problem,” you know you both look like two idiots right now but you absolutely don’t care. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, it’s on the house.”

“I can’t accept that, Mister Park,” you instantly say with evident seriousness.

Jimin sighs. If he even tries to argue, he knows it’s a lost cause. He knows how damn well you can be very subborn. So he ends up making you pay for your order. You then head to the counter on your right to wait for your order, but the wait isn’t long as a server quickly brings it to you. Afterwards, you look for a place to sit while you wait for Jimin, aka the man who owns your heart.

Since it’s almost closing time, it slowly gets less and less crowded. Once there are barely any customer left, Jimin takes a seat on the chair in front of yours, your bodies being only separated by a table.

“Wasn’t expecting you to come,” he smiles at you.

“Me neither,” you reply. “I decided last minute,” you continue. “I was going to wait at my place, but then I wanted to see your coffee shop.”

Jimin doesn’t know how to describe how he’s feeling right now. For sure, it’s been a long time that he hasn’t seen you here. Last time, Moon was only a couple of months old.

“I’m very glad you came.”

Seeing him this happy warms your heart beyond comprehension. On top of that, being around him lately also makes you happy. He’s obviously a fucking tease, but he’s someone you deeply care for and love too.

“Me too.”

“So where do you want to go?” he asks while placing his elbows on the table to rest his head on his hands.

“Maybe to my place?” you suggest. “Or yours if you prefer.”

“Both suit me,” he says. “Then, we can go to yours.”

He isn’t sure what you want to talk about, but as long as he gets to spend a tiny bit more time with you, it makes him happy.

You simply nod at his answer, and he quickly informs one of his employees to close the store since he’s leaving now. In a matter of seconds, he’s back again so you both can go to your place.

Jimin drives you to your place, and quite honestly, it’s incredibly hot to see him driving. As you sometimes eye him during the drive, seeing him so focus reminds you of your own daughter. She has the same face when she’s deeply concentrate. It always startles you how much she takes after him.

Once you arrive at your place, you both take a seat on the couch. Your love interest looks at you with evident joy, you don’t doubt at all that he’s glad to be here with you. Honestly, you’re happy as well.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about yesterday’s conversation,” you decide to not waste any second and jump directly into the much needed conversation. Jimin nods. “I guess you could understand by all that has been going on that I want you too.”

Jimin’s heart starts beating crazily in his chest. He’s more than aware of it, but it still makes him feel something to hear those words coming out of your mouth.

“I also never stopped loving you, and honestly, I only realized it when this whole Sunday’s movies happened.”

During your relationship with Seokhoon, you thought you had gotten over Jimin. It wasn’t easy sometimes to see him when you’d pick up Moon, but you were convinced you had moved on. Honestly, it was just a mirage. You never stopped loving him, and flirting with him is what made you realized it.

“I guess I will never stop,” you add. “I would also like to give us a second chance, but I’m so scared of everything.”

Jimin gets closer to you.

“I’m afraid to be losing you all over again, I’m afraid to unintentionally hurt you, and Moon, I’m afraid that this time around it won’t work, and I’m afraid of too many things,” you admit. “This time around, I feel like our decision will have a bigger impact on everything.”

Jimin is beyond grateful that you openly speak about your concerns. It isn’t easy to be vulnerable in front of someone we love.

“For sure, it will,” he tells you. “So much has happened since we started dating thirteen years ago, but we still want to be together.” Jimin makes a small break, his eyes roaming your face. “It won’t be easy, but we can at least try. We can still give each other another chance while still being careful.”

You bite your lower lip as you think about the situation. There is no doubt you’ll keep flirting as you still deeply crave each other. There will be more sex since you can’t resist each other. No matter what you decide, it won’t change the reality. At least, if you give your relationship another shot, on top of all this physical attraction, there will be romance.

“However, I’m not really sure how we could hide this from Moon, but we’ll have to be careful,” he says.

“Me neither,” you say. “She was so happy this morning to see us.”

You can still picture her radiant smile and the joy on her face when she spotted you at her dadda’s place. Naturally, you wish to constantly see her this happy but for now, it’s best she can’t imagine you being together again.

“Yeah, she really was,” Jimin smiles with evident joy.

Right now, being with Jimin is the only thing you desire with your entire soul, but as you said before, you’re simply afraid of too many things. However, for the entirety of the day, you’ve only been thinking about the fact that if you don’t try, you’ll deeply regret it. You can’t predict the future and there is a possibility where this doesn’t end well, but you’ll never know if you don’t try.

Maybe you’ll be extremely happy and fulfilled.

“I love being around you,” you say. “I really love our Sunday’s movie sessions, and I would like to turn it into an everyday thing.” Your heart is beating crazingly in your chest. “I’m very afraid, but I want to try because I love you.”

Jimin’s heart is ready to burst any minute.

“I just want us to protect Moon as we’ve been doing so far and to only let her know once we believe it’s the right time.”

Moon’s father wraps you around his arms as he’s noticeably happy. Even though he expected this conversation to be about a possible relationship, he never thought that you’d actually say that you wanted to try. He believed that you’d needed some more time before noticing the obvious.

However, he’s extremely happy to hear those words.

This hug catches you by surprise but it’s a very welcomed one. Jimin’s embraces are your favorite place on earth. Even when you were going through a break up, he hugged you a couple of times and it felt great. For a minute, it felt like everything was still going well.

“I’ll promise I’ll do everything to never hurt you,” he whispers in your ear.

Your eyes flutter shut to savour this wonderful moment.

“Me too,” you whisper as well.

Those promises are the only ones you can make. All the rest will obviously depend on external factors, but hopefully, it won’t cause any harm to your relationship.

Less than a year ago, none of you imagined this moment would happen. Back then, you were in happy relationships so this would be the last thing you’d think of. But you’re definitely in very different places today.

When you put an end to the hug, you fervently and desperately kiss each other. You kiss as if there’s no tomorrow. His tongue meets yours in your mouth, your teeth bite his lower lips, and soft moans escape both your moans as your eagerly kiss each other. It’s a kiss filled with passion.

“We didn’t finish what we started here yesterday,” he says against your lips and out of breathe. “Would you mind if we finish it?”

Your eyes look up at him. One of his hands place a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well, it depends what you have in mind…” You tease him before biting your lower lip.

A smirk grows on his face before he gets even closer to you.

“I was planning to have sex with you.” He whispers in your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

Instead of replying, you just press your lips again against his to kiss him. There’s no hesitation when he kisses you back, enjoying every second of being able to kiss you again.

“Maybe we should move to my bedroom,” you say.

Jimin simply stands up before holding your hand and rapidly walking to your bedroom. By the way he’s walking fast, you can tell how needy he’s right now.

“Take your clothes off, honey,” he says once you've reached your bedroom. “I need you, now.”

You simply nod before stripping for him. The urge can be felt as you quickly take off your clothes while he does the exact same thing. Jimin doesn’t want to wait anymore, he wants to have you in every possible way. After all, it feels like he has been waiting three years for this moment.

You also take off your underwear, offering him the opportunity to see your body completely naked for the first time in three years. Jimin takes the time to roam your body once he’s also naked. He still remembers how your body was before you split. Although most of your pregnant belly had disappeared, it wasn’t how it was before you got pregnant.

But today, as he looks at you, it almost feels like you’ve never been pregnant. There are no visible indications of pregnancy, but your body has clearly changed. He can’t really express it into words but you’re different, and he loves it. He loves every single part of you.

On the other hand, Jimin’s body is being hungrily scanned by your lust-filled eyes. He has also changed, he’s not the same anymore. His body is definitely more toned than before. For sure, he’s a damn dilf.

As you both look at each other, it feels like you’re discovering the other for the first time. Almost as if you’re about to have sex for the first time. Well, your first time together was a little bit awkward but you made it through together.

“Lay in bed, baby,” he instructs you once you’ve both finished glancing at each other.

The urge he’s feeling is something that you sense, and you can understand it. If Moon hadn’t woken up, you would have had sex right after that mind-blowing thigh riding. You don’t even question his commands, laying on his bed. His body hovers over you, his eyes getting lost in yours.

It’s been a long time that you both haven’t found each other in this exact position.

“I missed you,” he admits with a deep voice, his thumb caressing your cheek.

At the feeling of his soft finger on your face, you close your eyes. The love you share with Jimin has always been so sweet. A sweet love.

“I missed you too, Jimin,” you answer before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Without any warning, his other hand moves down to your core, his fingers brushing over your folds, snatching a moan out of you. His thumb rubs your clit, making you moan even more. He’s doing this to prepare you for his cock, knowing perfectly that he can’t just slip it into you, it’ll hurt you too much.

Once he feels you’re wet enough, he stops torturing your clit with his fingers. He places himself in between your legs, spreading them a bit more while he pumps his cock with one hand, getting ready for you. His face leans closer to yours, his lips finding yours for a passionate kiss as he buries his thick cock inside your soaked core, stretching your velvety walls.

For the past three years, you’ve had sex with other men. It was good, and with others, it was like going to heaven. But having Jimin’s cock pushing inside you is like going back home. Jimin is your first love, he was the first man with whom you had sexual activities. Then, for ten years, he was the only man you ever had sex with. So, in a way, your body considered him as your home.

Having sex today with him is like you’ve found your way back home.

His cute little hands find their way to your waist, caressing your soft skin. Both of you softly groan as he slowly pushes his thick cock inside you, but his lips swallow every sound. Your eyes roll back, loving the feeling of his length stretching you open.

Jimin takes a little step back to take a look at the wonderful woman beneath him. As he does so, he gives you the time to adjust to his thick size.

“Did I already tell you how pretty you are?” he asks before he leans closer, pushing his cock a bit deeper inside you. You shake your head because you want to hear him say it. “You’re so damn pretty, yn!”

His lips kiss yours once more, but honestly, all this making out feels amazing. It brings peace to your soul. A much needed peace.

“I’m going to fuck you nice and slow,” his deep voice whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

When he takes that deep voice, you just want to come because damn, it’s so sexy.

“Go for it, Jimin,” it almost sounds like you’re begging him.

Honestly, all you want is to be fucked rough and good as he used to do it before. You want to see if this older version of Jimin can still keep up with how he used to fuck you four years ago. He pulls back a bit to look at you in the eyes, a smirk rising on his face.

“After this, you won’t be able to walk.”

You desire nothing more than this. To be completely sore.

Jimin slowly pushes back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. His eyes never leave your figure, watching you holding back every moan that threatens to leave your mouth.

“It’s so good to feel you again around me.”

Brutally, he pushes his cock fully inside you, and this time around, you can’t hold back a moan. A smirk appears on his face as he realizes that this time around, he managed to cause a little moan to leave your pretty lips.

For a little while, he doesn't move. He’s only hovering over you and watching you with delight. His eyes glance down on your body. Watching your pussy sucking his cock is something that he used to love to do.

Jimin groans as he watches himself buried deep inside you. “Your cunt takes me so well, honey.”

You close your eyes, completely enjoying having him fully inside you. Once he sees that you’re ready to take more, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. The bed under you squeaks, the headboard hitting the wall just behind you.

Your first love once again stops when he’s fully inside you, torturing you just to hear you begging him to fuck you. This is also something he deeply missed, so he’s for sure going to make you beg all night long.

“Jimin, move,” you start saying. “Please,” you beg.

As he loves to hear you begging for more, he just gives you what you want, pushing his cock back before slamming into you with both hands on your hips. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock quickly fills the room.

“Shit,” he gasps, thrusting into you with no mercy, “you feel so good.”

You’re completely drunk in the feeling of his cock filling you up, his hips hitting against yours with every thrust. This all causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his cock. Jimin smirks as he notices the sticky mess you’re causing.

Everything about the moment that is happening right now is something you both missed so dearly. These past few days of flirting with each other caused your feelings and the physical attraction to grow a lot. It wouldn’t surprise any of you if you keep doing this all night long.

His cock is buried deep inside you, causing you to grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jimin’s hard thrusts.

“You’re so fucking wet, honey,” he hisses before biting his lower lip.

His hands press harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing this, you can see it in his eyes.

Jimin bends down, pressing a sloppy kiss on your lips while his thrusts slow down. A desperate whine gushes from you, a sound that he swallows directly. His hands move up on your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them before his fingers start playing with your nipples.

“It feels wonderful,” you whisper as you’re completely lost in your euphoria.

Slowly, Jimin begins to thrust hard into you again, your walls sucking in his cock as he slams his hips into you with more force. His fingers keep playing with your very sensitive nipples, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes look at you, contorting with pleasure as it slowly builds within you.

His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust. The way he’s torturing your body is only making you lose yourself further.

Small groans leave his lips when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him. “Your cunt is clenching so hard, honey.”

The sweat is dampening his body, sticking his black long hair to his face. With your hands, you push some strands of hair to be able to have a proper look at his handsome face. Jimin looks like a god right now.

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper as you move your hips to meet his thrust.

The man over you smiles at your compliment. It always feels heartwarming to hear you compliment him.

“Thanks, honey,” he presses another sloppy kiss on your lips while you keep creaming his cock with your arousal.

As he keeps thrusting into you, he senses how close you are. He knows that the vision of you coming will make him come as well. But before that happens, he needs to know where you want him to come.

“Where do you want me to come?” he asks, panting hard.

“On my belly,” you say as you touch your lower stomach.

For the moment, it’s better to not have him coming inside you. There’s absolutely no way you’ll get pregnant right now. You’re already scared of what is going on right now, and it’s better to avoid adding a second child to the mix. It’s preferable to enjoy your reunion.

His fingers pinch your nipples harder, making the wave of pleasure grow bigger inside you.

“I’m gonna come,” you exclaim with despair.

Jimin’s cock twitches inside of you at your words, a low groan rumbling in his throat. One of his hands slowly snails down on your body, passing your stomach, and landing on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot.

The simple feeling of his cold fingers against your clit is what you need to be completely hit by your orgasm, making you come hard around him. Your arousal completely covers his cock while your walls are squeezing him on repeat.

While you’re completely lost in your euphoria, he speeds up the pace of his hips slamming into you to chase his own high.

The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts. The only thing he sees is the image of you coming under him. Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you made on his cock. His eyes are completely hypnotized by your body.

With despair, he pushes his cock out of you with his left hand. Instantly, hot spurts of cum are being projected over your stomach. Breathy moans escaping both your lips, a smile appearing on your face as you feel his sperm touching your skin.

Jimin collapses next to you, both of your bodies covered in sweat after this intense sex session. Your heavy breathing is now the only thing that can be heard in his bedroom, but you quickly stand up to grab a towel to clean yourself before his cum gets dry on your stomach.

Once cleaned, you hand him the towel so he can clean himself. “Well, this was something,” he says with a bright smile on his face while rubbing his cock with the towel.

“It definitely was,” you answer as you grab your bra and panties to put them back on. “Although you’re older, you’re still very good at it.”

“For the past three years, I’ve been taking care of other gardens,” you frown, not understanding what this guy is saying.

“You’re comparing a pussy with a garden?” you ask with obvious confusion and disbelief.

Jimin starts laughing at your reaction. He has an inside joke with his friends about gardening. Instead of saying that they are having sex, they’ll say that they are going to do some gardening. It all started when they were drunk and started comparing sex with gardening.

They said that it’s the exact same thing. For gardening, you take care of a garden, and for fucking, you take care of a pretty pussy. It’s weird, but it’s better to not raise any questions.

“Eeeh, you have a pretty little garden, honey,” he says while coming next to you to hold you in his arms.

“You’re weird,” you say before pressing a gentle kiss on his plump lips.

“And you love my weirdness,” you nod.

Jimin is your weirdo.

“Since Moon is with your parents, we could perhaps spend the night together and maybe go to a restaurant?” he suggests.

You nod once more before resting your head on his chest. It feels wonderful to be around him again. It makes you feel at home, and it’s such a powerful feeling. Even though you’re absolutely scared of what the future might hold, you feel a sense of completeness right now. It almost feels like everything is falling into place now.

You can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with your first love.

#bts #bts imagine #bts fanfic #park jimin #jimin #jimin imagine #jimin fanfic #bts fluff #jimin fluff #bts smut #jimin smut #bts x reader #jimin x reader #sweet love #spideyjimin

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ink-stainedkiss · 16 days ago

Text

Boxer Katsuki Bakugo Headcannons ✧˖°

Boxer!Katsuki who finds it endearing that you research his opponents before his matches. While he doesn’t expect you, nor need you to, it shows how much you care about and support his career. In the car, if you five him a fact about the person he’s fighting, he’ll nod and accept the information. And sure, his manager and coach have already told him everything he needs to know, but he would never tell you that.

Boxer!Katsuki who always gets you into his games for free. No discussion. You walk in with the undefeated Dynamight, nobody is questioning you. The staff practically acts like you’re on the same level as Katsuki, but that’s because they know if they were to treat you rudely, Katsuki wouldn’t be too happy.

Boxer!Katsuki who lets you relax in his locker room. He loves practicing his moves while you watch, because you aren’t very subtle when you stare at his chest. Katsuki doesn’t complain though and he prides himself on how much you love his figure. He’ll add cocky comments now and then, telling you to quit gawking, but the threats are never truthful.

You sat on a foldable chair next to the wall of lockers as your body friend struck a large punching bag over and over. Sweat beaded down his forehead, making his blonde hair stick to the skin. Grunts and pants pushed their way out of his mouth and occasionally he would let out short growls. Even if you were ‘mindlessly scrolling on your phone’ you knew that Katsuki was sexy as hell. A smirk appeared on your face at the thought. Unknowingly, your boyfriend had caught you looking like a pervert at him and he slowed the swinging bag, raising a brow at your lost-in-thought face.

“Like what you see?” He teased from afar, noticing how you were torn from your thoughts and a small blush appeared on your face. You scoffed, going back to your phone that had turned off from lack of use,”I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He chuckled, obviously not believing you for a second,”You sure? ‘Cause it looks like you’re drooling over me.”

You looked up, glaring at the man, which he only found cute,”You’re clearly seeing things, maybe you want me to look at you.” Katsuki realized you wouldn’t accept your defeat and moved off of the platform, smirking as you didn’t look up from your screen. He removed one of his gloves and lifted your chin,”I’m just messing with you.” Before you could comment and deny, he locked his lips with yours, smiling just a bit as you melted against his mouth.

Boxer!Katsuki who doesn’t care if someone walks in during your guy’s make out sesh. You’ll stand next to him, blushing like crazy, and Katsuki won’t even bat an eye. He has his hand resting on your waist, listening to whatever the person had to say. He really doesn’t care about Pda and if he wants a kiss, he’s gonna get a kiss. In the beginning of your relationship, you often worried how the media would react to it, but after a certain game, Katsuki kissed you right in front of the cameras. He made it clear he didn’t give a shit what people thought about the two of you.

Boxer!Katsuki who finds it cute that you worry so much about him. He’s been boxing for years now and no one frets over his being as much as you do. When his manager tells him he has five minutes before entering the ring, he gives you a long kiss, then always expects you to tell him to be safe. If his opponent is known for being rough in the ring, then you are extra stressed out. You understand that there are paramedics for a reason and injuries are bound to happen, but you can’t stand to see Katsuki in pain.

Boxer!Katsuki who almost winds up late to the match because he forgets the time and can’t seem to leave without one more kiss. Though his manager gets annoyed, he could never ask you to leave, because if Katsuki heard of this, he would immediately drop him and find someone new to be his manager. Which wouldn’t be hard since people are already obsessed over his records and fame.

Boxer!Katsuki who searches for you in the crowd as he’s being introduced. Without failing, he’ll scan past the screaming and crazed fans and see you in the reserved area. Sometimes, you love having a little surprise for him as he walks out. Since he’s portrayed as a big bad boxer, you like making him chuckle by making large cardboard cutouts of his face and waving them around proudly.

Boxer!Katsuki who fights like an underdog coming to their senses and finally realizing their strength. And it’s all for you. He hits hard and fast, making sure when the ref breaks them up, he sneaks a glance at you and your astonished face.

Boxer!Katsuki who if he does end up with a small injury after the fight, like a nose bleed or his face burning up, never goes to the provided nurses, instead he lets you take care of him. Before you met Katsuki you had taken some medical classes for small things and injuries, so he sees you as a perfect nurse for him.

You had been sitting in the locker room for a while now, resting in the nicer area with a small tv and a large couch. When the door opened, you quickly looked over, gasping softly as you took notice of your boyfriend. He was wearing a bedazzled robe with his title on the back and still in his gloves but you were only focusing on the scarlet liquid dripping from his nose. Instantly you rise from the couch, grabbing his hand and yanking him to the wash room,”I didn’t see your nose start bleeding out there.”

He had a lazy smile as you walked around the bathroom, taking immediate action for something so small,”It started in the hallway and I knew you would help me.” You huffed, knowing he could easily clean it himself, but he needed you to do it. Although, you would be lying if you said you didn’t love seeing him watch you with such adoring eyes.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed and you retried a small cotton pad and alcohol. You got to work, using the dry gauze to soak up any of the fresh blood,”You did good out there.” The boxer chuckled under his breath, wrapping an arm around your waist to drag you closer,”Just good?” You tossed the cotton into a small bin beside the two of you, smirking at his words,”Well, I can’t boost your ego that much.”

The blonde’s grin grew and leaned in for a kiss, but you put a finger up, pushing him away,”You still have blood all over you.” He frowned, suddenly not liking his bloodied nose. Fortunately for Katsuki, it didn’t take long for you to wipe away the dried substance that had gotten as far as his collarbone.

Once you were done, you put away the supplies and finally you cupped his cheeks, pulling him into a slow kiss. Alas, it didn’t last long as you felt his face was hot to the touch.

Boxer!Katsuki who rested his head in your lap, a cold rag across his forehead, and talked on about the fight from his perspective. You watched him dreamily, humming in response to his words, and you played with his messy golden locks. All you could really think about was how the media would react if they found out their scary champion, who had just K.O’d his opponent an hour earlier, enjoyed being pampered by his loving girlfriend.

#writers on tumblr #bakugou x reader #x reader #bakugou katsuki #he’s so bad #need that #mha bakugou #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #headcanon #boxer #fanfic writing #@ink-stainedkiss #fluff #kisses #sweet Katsuki

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eloriis · 3 months ago

Text

OPPOSITE - charles leclerc

in which. . y/n l/n was everything charles leclerc wanted, until he didn’t — cl16 x singer! reader

notes : first post in sososososo long!! hope u guys like it and it does well 🤞🏼

and NO HATE towards alex! i ADORE her smm but i needed someone to match the description that sabrina gave in her song

type : smau ⋆ face claim : sabrina carpenter

december 16, 2019

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomez and 15,547,396 others

y/nuser it’s so romantic in paris 🤍🖤

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc all because of you mon amour 🌙

y/nuser je t'aime ☀️

user6 THE MOON AND SUN??

francisca.cgomez BABE?? THE HAIR?? THE DRESS?? OMG IM DYING

y/nuser KIKAAAAA ILYSMMM MWAH MWAH

user1 A MAN?? OMG?? A VROOM VROOM GUY?? WOAHHHH

user2 they just became public and they’re already making me feel single 😔

user3 OH GOD WHAT?? OH GOD

user4 they’re lowkey cute 🤭🤭

user5 THE SOFT LAUNCH OF FUCKING 10 MONTHS HAS FINALLY ENDED I THANK EVERY DEITY I HAVE PRAYED TO FOR THESE PAST MONTHS 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

february 26, 2023

liked by charles_leclerc, gracieabrams and 10,375,984 others

y/nuser when in doubt, turn the piano on <3

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc je t'aime, ma lune 🌙 ( i love u, my moon )

y/nuser je t'aime plus, mon soleil ☀️ ( i love u more, my sun )

user1 the moon and sun duo is back ☹️

user2 SHE LOOKS SO PRETTY UGH

user3 the note :(

user4 did charles write that for her?

user5 i don’t think so, i’m pretty sure that’s her handwriting

user6 the second pic made me feel so single

gracieabrams ARE WE GETTING A NEW SONG??

y/nuser IDK ARE YOU??

user7 WHAT WHAT WHAT

user8 Y/N PLS WE ALL BEG, WE’VE BEEN STARVED FOR TOO LONG

user9 if they break up, i’m going to stop believing in love.

march 14, 2023

liked by user1, user2 and 585,697 others

f1updates ferrari driver, charles leclerc caught with mystery woman who is not popstar y/n l/n!

charles and y/n have been in a relationship for almost 5 years. they made their relationship public on december 16 in 2019 after 10 months of dating. they seemed to be deeply in love with each other so what might have been the reason for charles to be caught with a different woman?

let us know your thoughts and feelings on this in the comment section below.

tagged: y/nuser, charles_leclerc

user1 what the fuck? charles what the actual fuck is wrong with you?

user2 i can’t believe the nerve of this man?? FIVE FUCKING YEARS?? down the drain just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants

user3 both charles and the girl are in the wrong because while y/n and this creature kept majority of their lives together private, they still posted about each other regularly so it’s not possible that the girl didn’t know that charles was taken

user4 the audacity of this man? his girlfriend is at the studio most likely writing a song for him and this man is out in the broad daylight cheating on her??

user5 studio?

user4 yeah, she was caught walking into a studio a while before this was posted

user5 fuck bro, that’s so sad

user6 everyday i wake up and wonder where the fuck do men get the audacity to do this shit and stay sane

user7 i’m actually speechless right now. all i can say is poor y/n, she looks so in love with him whenever they’re together and then this man pulls this shit

user8 we were about to get another song about y/ncharles :(

user9 i haven’t just lost faith in men, i’ve lost faith in love as well

march 14, 2023

ynssecretlife has removed sharleclair as a follower

ynssecretlife has unfollowed sharleclair

ynssecretlife has just posted a story! tap to view.

seen by lanthedodo, liliesareme, georgewashingmachine and 98 others

view story replies:

lanthedodo y/n/n, i’m so so so sorry. i promise u NONE of us knew about this

lanthedodo we are all always here for you ❤️

liliesareme y/n bby:( i’m coming over rn

alexisalbono i’m so sorry, lily and are the otw

view more story replies.

y/nuser has deleted 30 posts from their account.

may 25, 2023

liked by charles_leclerc, user39 and 674,694 others

alexandrasaintmleux in paris with amour ⭐️

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc the star to my sun

liked by author

user1 this is very similar to the post made by y/n

user2 the nicknames. that hurts me :(

user2 the audacity of these two. ch*rles got bored of the moon so he moved onto another star. honestly fuck off dude.

user3 beautiful couple 😍 ( i giggled at this )

user4 girlie is trying wayyyy too hard to be like y/n…🤓

june 6, 2023

liked by taylorswift, lilymhe and 21,854,297 others

y/nuser i’ve kept all of you guys starved for too long now </3

from my heart to yours, ‘opposite’ is now out 💌

taylorswift i’m so proud of you bby 💗

y/nuser tyy 🤍

lilymhe sobbing, breaking down, screaming, crying, on the floor, breaking dishes

y/nuser LILY BBY 😭😭

alex_albon she’s not even joking. there’s actually broken dishes on the floor and she’s about to flood the living room with her tears

lilymhe shut up. no one asked you 🥰❤️

maxverstappen1 you did so well with this song! proud of you y/n/n 💙

y/nuser tyy so much maxie 🫶🏼🫶🏼

user1 MOTHER IS SO BACK

user2 MIGHT AS WELL SNATCH MY HEART OUT AND STAMP ON IT ATP

liked by landonorris and francisca.cgomez

user3 you did so well y/n, we are all so proud of you for being strong and loving 🤍

liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomez, iamrebbecad, kellypiquet and 157,286 others

y/nuser thank you so so much, i love all of you so much 🫶🏼

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tinytennisskirt · 3 months ago

Note

ifffff ur into this… stoned sex with art 😼🙏🏻❤️‍🔥

No Consquences

summary: you and art have been close friends for some time now, there’s definitely something lying underneath that friendship, and it cracks wide open when he comes over to smoke with you.

warnings: smut! unprotected sex, smoking weed, tension, fluff, lots of laughter mwah

and ofc i’m into this. so into this. never stop.

your phone buzzed. you were already having a hard time putting down the book you’d spent all day reading- you’d only taken a break to shower about an hour ago and you were still laying in the towel in your bed because you’d picked up the book again.

it was raunchy. and it was really well written for a raunchy, steamy novel! you’d never read one this good before, the men are always overbearing and written to be sexy so they just come off as try-hands, but the man in this book was perfect. kind. sweet. you put your bookmark in and grabbed your phone from by your feet.

art: patrick stopped by earlier he says hi n he brought me some pre rolled stuff.

art: can i come over?

you loved how the pieces fit together. any time patrick came to visit, art’s room somehow became a mess. he hated to impose, but your room was the best option. you smiled, writing back.

you: bring iced tea

art: already bought it

you: you know me so well

art: on my way over :)

it took art about five minutes to come and knock on your door. in that time you’d managed to throw on a tank top and shorts, the window open and the summer air pouring in and circulating the room. you ran a brush through your hair and answered the door.

you and art had been friends since college started, both at stanford for tennis. and against your realization, the friendship might have been a little more. it was a steady thing, becoming friends like it was the easiest thing in the world. he was a good friend, knew you well, knew your secrets and kept them. he was your closest friend here at stanford and you saw him almost every day, just out of habit.

he showed up in a black t-shirt. and sweatpants. not just a regular black shirt, but one that was just a little tight. he had the pre-rolls in his left hand and a giant thing of iced tea in the other. by the frosted look of the plastic, it was cold. you grabbed onto the door at the sight of him, an unconscious thing. he looked really nice.

“you like the raspberry one right?” he asked, referencing the iced tea in his arm. his forearm rested right against the label you were staring at. you blinked.

“yeah! hi.”

“hi,” he smiled, tilting his head a little. “you okay?”

“i’m okay,” you smiled, moving out of the way, letting him come into your room. he didn’t often wear black. the shirt must have been new or… “how are you?”

“i’m alright,” he smiled, sitting on your bed. “patrick visited for three hours and my room is a mess. looks like someone set off a bomb in my dresser.”

“of course,” you nodded. you’d met patrick about a year ago and he was also a fast friend. but he was a messy guy. “he couldn’t even stop by to say hi, i can’t believe him.”

“i said the same thing, i said you’d be heartbroken, but he’s got some date with this girl lana.” he shrugged. “he’ll be back tomorrow probably.”

“don’t clean your room just yet,” you said, grabbing the air freshener and your lighter from on top of your coffee maker. “you get the glitter lighter today.”

“pink?”

you tossed it to him, “pink.”

“my favourite.”

“as it should be,” you hopped onto the bed and sat on your knees, pushing your hair behind your ears. “anything else happen today?”

“mm- not really,” art said, opening the box of joints. “i was sleeping in until patrick came around so it was that and then this. i checked the tennis schedules, co-op doubles this monday-“

“partners?”

“yeah,” he chuckled. he was about to ask. “that and class schedules tennis history? since when do we have to do tennis history.”

you grabbed his arm gently, “oh my god i saw that when i was with abbey the other day.” you shook your head, “i think it makes us more worldly,” you nodded. “i forgot about it.”

art moved closer to you, near the window above the bed. with a click of the lighter he lit the end and inhaled, blowing the smoke out the window the best he could before handing it to you. your eyes lingered on his bicep- for fucks sake. it was a good shirt. that was all. you sat up and did the same, inhale, hold, exhale. “oh my-“ you coughed, “-god.”

art laughed and his hand rested on your bare knee. “you’re okay.” his thumb moved just gently, once. it wasn’t unlike him to be touchy, just was who he was, but for some reason today you were hyper focused on it. his hand was cold, but soothing. you passed him the joint and cracked open the iced tea. “so what do you think of-“ he exhaled out the window. “this shirt.” you blinked like you’d heard him wrong. “new.”

“i like it,” you said, looking the other way. your eyes wanted to fall on the shirt again but you were afraid of what would happen and how you’d react if you looked right now. you took a swig of the iced tea.

“patrick said i look like a personal trainer.”

you laughed, wiping your lower lip with your thumb. his eyes were trained on you and the lack of bra. you looked back at him, eyes falling over him in the black t-shirt again and just as you feared, your mouth fell just a little open. “you do- okay- i see it. he’s not wrong.”

“i’m getting rid of this shirt later,”

“no!” you protested a little too loudly. “don’t let us change your mind about it.” you tried to save yourself. “i think it’s the sweats.” why did he look so good today? was it really so different? you shook your head and hit the joint twice that time. “i like the shirt though.”

he smiled that almost-shy crooked little grin when he took the joint back. you could not stop coughing, which made him chuckle as he took his hit. the conversation continued, those slight little bantery jokes filling the room with laughter that only increased as you felt the weed take its effect like a wave washing up and over you.

the radio behind you playing some cd you both liked and the iced tea shared between the two of you while you felt things settle in. it was like a buzz, like constantly lapping of water against a shore. it was dizzying and made your head spin just a little. you kept laughing about things and nothings. you leaned into his shoulder when you laughed and his hand stayed on your knee, occasionally flattening out against the lower parts of your outer thigh, almost fidgeting the way his hand grazed back and forth. maybe you were too high, but he was all you could think about.

usually, it was that he was there and that was fun, but as the sun set and the night crept on and you continued feeling the high increase, you could only think about him. him and his t-shirt, his biceps, his forearms, his hand that was on your skin while you talked. he was smiling that perfect grin of his and you swore you were staring, but neither of you could tell.

you were giggling, one leg up and the other one still folded under you, leaning against the one that propped you up. “think you’d ever cut your hair?”

“i get my hair cut,” he replied, rubbing his left eye. “every three months.”

“i mean like- short.”

“mmm- no.” he answered, taking a bigger hit. “my mom had me cut it short when i was a kid, i had a bowl cut.” he laughed and you laughed with him, a little uncontrollably at the imagery. you wondered to yourself if he had a picture. “a short-“ he couldn’t breathe he was laughing so hard, “short bowl cut. so bad.”

“oh my god.” you laughed, leaning into him again. he leaned the same, you met in the middle, hands intertwining, a desperate grab at anything sturdy. you couldn’t stop. he smelled good, you noted, he always did. cologne and spice and did he smell better than he did before? the other times you though he smelled good, did he smell this good? it was strange. he smelled so good. too good. you hummed as you stopped laughing, trying to dull it down. “but you wouldn’t cut your hair short?”

“feels wrong.” he said, trying to compose himself again. you went back to your regular statures, his hand went right back on your leg, his thumb doing the very same thing. it was hot- he needed to stop being hot, it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t right. he was your best friend. he had to stop. you looked at his hair, his curls. the warm, dim lights of your room made them seem like they were glowing gold. “it wouldn’t be bad- just wouldn’t be me. could be bad though.”

“no, not bad. i like your curls.” you said, trying to keep down another giggle. you couldn’t risk spiralling into laughter again. you extended your hand and gently moved his hair. he scrunched his nose and closed his eyes as you did, letting you. his hair was soft. “don’t ever cut your hair short.”

he chuckled, “not even a bowl cut?”

you giggled just slightly, tousling his hair just a little more, scooting yourself a little closer to play with his hair. it was mindless, just nice to feel while your body felt as if it were floating and hovering over itself. you felt even more spinny as the new hits of the second joint kicked in. you felt oddly like you were made of air. your felt your eyes struggle to be properly open, you could see art’s eyes pink in the dim light. his eyelashes. you were sat up on your knees hitting the joint again, your other hand still in his hair and you passed it back to him. he hit it and set it down on the makeshift cardboard ashtray that had become a thing while you were talking before. his movements seemed slow, but fast at the same time.

you moved just a little closer without thinking of it, on your knees, sort of above him but not really. both hands of yours touched his hair, pushing the curls around his ears behind them. low-lidded, he just watched you. his head tilted up just a little to look at you. to see you. “i’m so high.” he said, quietly, like you weren’t alone.

“me too.” you giggled just a little more and he joined in. his laughter was sweet in the air and your hands stayed pushing curls away from his face just gently. you weren’t thinking about it, just him. just how he was really pretty. you felt his hand move from where it was, meeting with just above your hip, where your hip met your waist. his hand felt like it was going through you, just a little. it didn’t even phase you that he was touching you, just that his hands felt strange on your skin and the reminder that you were high circulated your mind again.

your body hummed and seemed to buzz. like all of your skin was soft static. his other hand met that other side of your waist, resting just above the hip bone. his left thumb was underneath the hem of your tank top. you were smiling at him the way you usually would, no teeth, nothing wider than that- but he wasn’t smiling back. at least not in the same way- his face rested soft and a little open-mouthed in a gaze that felt similar to that of a deer. looking at you through long eyelashes.

your hands in his hair didn’t feel real. his hair was spun gold and your hands were like clouds. limbs felt alien. but your body felt complete. your eyes felt tired though you knew you weren’t and he was looking at you for what seemed like forever and maybe you were looking at him forever too. reality was, it was only a moment, not too long at all.

he’d been your friend for almost a full year. he’d held your hand at certain points, you’d hugged probably a hundred times, but this felt different. the music playing seemed to fade out. your hands still pushed through his hair, gently. the waves of your high were only continuing to bring you upward, higher. his hands didn’t move, yours began to slide down just slightly.

inching further, curls tucked behind his ears and moving your hands down, almost subconsciously. you felt like you were floating and falling at the same time and it was dizzying. his eyes did not leave you. not even as your hands moved down behind his ears. everything was serious until then.

“you have that thing in your eyes with different colours,” you noted. your voice felt echoey, like a toy microphone. “it’s pretty.”

“you’re pretty.” he replied, lips barely moving. and you giggled, your response was to giggle. it was uncontrollable, you couldn’t help it. neither could he. he said you were pretty. art donaldson, your best friend here at school, said you were pretty. he thought you were pretty. you giggled just a little madly and you leaned, of course, into him, but your hands on his jaw now, leaning turned into slightly losing balance, his you leaned forward and you almost kissed him.

you pulled back at the last second so that your face didn’t crash into his, though you didn’t go far. your noses touched as your giggling died just a little, “oh my god, i almost kissed you-“ you said a little breathily. your nose grazed his. his eyelashes fluttered as his eyes fell from yours to your lips, then back again.

he grinned, laughing just a little. the world seemed so quiet aside from the buzzing in your ears and his light chuckle. you both swayed just a little, challenged to be steady, failing. laughing, swaying so much, heads tilted just perfectly enough to have his lips graze yours. or yours graze his. it feels unreal, like you’re watching it from across the room instead of feeling it, but your hands are on his jaw and his are still on your waist, trying to keep balance harder than you thought. “i’m sorry.” he mumbled. and you felt his words against your lips, apologizing for the way they grazed against yours despite not moving away. not changing what he was doing, in fact it happened again.

you giggled at that. so did he. but it died quickly. as your hands slid under his jaw. as his hands slid just slightly more under the back of your tank top. your lips grazed his once more, “i’m sorry.” you smiled, it was against his lips. the tension was thick, there was no other way to go.

a beat passed. your lower lip dragging across his slightly open mouth, your head tilted just a little. one more beat. lips brushing, hands on each other, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. high, so high, so fuzzy, so airy.

being this close, kissing him felt like a need. not a want. in this state of being, in this place, him in your hands, there was nothing that felt more right. kissing him. having him. and it seemed he was thinking the same thing.

your lips grazed his once more and mutually, that graze turned into a kiss. your lips pressed properly against each other’s. your hands holding his face, his hands pulling you closer. lips meeting lips fully, entirely, slowly. god, it felt so slow. a comfortable slow, not a painful slow. with your eyes closed it felt like the world was spinning around you. it was the mix of him and the weed that was so dizzying.

his lips were soft. oddly. soft, pillowy, warm, and sweet. he kissed so gently, so easily, no tongue, just lips. lips against yours. when he pulled your waist you gladly moved forward, onto his lap. it wasn’t far. moving onto his lap felt like falling through him. his hands on your waist felt like air and if you focused on his lips you couldn’t feel his hands at all. it was strange, but it was so good.

you weren’t thinking about how he was supposed to only be your friend- you weren’t thinking about how easy it was to kiss him, how neither of you had to say a single thing for it to be known, to be mutual, to kiss like this. slow and deep and god, more intoxicating than the weed.

you only felt his hands again when they moved, one of them up the back of your tank top, flat against your skin. soft. and his movements felt like the waves of your high but you knew they weren’t actually. you felt your body flush warm in reaction. like a delayed response, god, he was kissing you. you were kissing him- god, you were on his lap. your knees were on either side of his legs and your chest was pressed against his when you moved even closer. was closer possible?

you needed him like nothing you’d ever needed before. feelings underlying now surfacing. it was slow, the way he began to lean backward. tilting until his head hit your pillow and you were now on top of him. it felt like falling, despite the speed. falling into him, god you wanted to. his hand sliding down your hip. he was hard. you felt it underneath you, you felt everything, you felt his eyelashes against your face, you felt everything how could you not feel how painfully hard he was in his track pants? it came naturally to press against him now that you were on top of him.

was it wrong that him being hard from kissing set a fire that spread through your body? you had a hard time keeping balance, your hands moving down his jaw and to the back of his neck. his hand slid further up your shirt.

you giggled, just a little. you couldn’t help it. between kisses, between heavy kisses. your head spun. “what?” he asked, obviously just as out of it as you were. he spoke against your lips, sporting a dazed smile.

“we’re kissing,” you grinned.

“yeah,” he replied, his own smile widening to match your grin. “is that okay?”

you nodded and he kissed you again. and you were kissing him again. you moved forward, his head happily tilting back when you kissed him just a little harder than before. not much faster, only harder. the same way you felt him underneath you. with your eyes closed the imagery in your head was sparks. fire. you pressed against him, hips rolling instinctively. you felt his other hand grip just slightly harder, some sound slipping between your lips from him. that hand under your shirt was now on your hips, bracingly, guiding you. and friction was good. god, it was so good.

you couldn’t find any spare time to think about consequences. it didn’t feel like there could be any when he kissed like this. he was a good kisser and the hands that were guiding your hips as you ground against him were smart and calculated. paced.

the tilt of your head, the feeling of his hands on your body. feeling that pulsing need along with the heat of a dizzy high. it felt like flying to have your eyes closed, you were afraid you’d sink through him. the kiss deepened, the pace increasing. you let out a small sigh between kisses, feeling the rocking all too well. his left hand left your hip and was back on the bare skin of your back.

he was so hard it must have hurt. and your bodies pressed together so perfectly. and his hand was under your shirt. you sighed, moving back down just slightly. and moving down meant your shirt moved up just slightly- and art didn’t mean to, but he continued his accidental movement and slowly, your shirt was raised over your head. it fell somewhere you didn’t care to look. the air from the window hit your bare skin and his hands came back to holding you, sliding over your now entirely bare back. you nearly shivered.

shirtless, braless on top of him, it was only fair he do the same. you grinned between kisses, your hands swapping place with his, slowly trailing along to trade. hands up your waist, coming to rest on your jaw while yours trailed down his side, coming up underneath the hem of the t-shirt you were so fond of on him. he stopped kissing you only to pull it off. you weren’t sure of what was going on, but you liked it. moving back to kissing him felt like a constant loop but it was just the weed. every time your lips connected it felt like the best thing in the world. so deep, so slow.

your chest pressed to his now, but that didn’t stop you from running your hand down his chest. he was soft, like silk, all of his skin aside from the light happy trail from his belly button down. half-lidded, your lips grazed against each other’s, both catching your breath for a moment. shirtless. you beamed, your cheeks hurt from smiling you wondered how that happened when all you were doing was kissing. it was a pause, just a slight pause and you looked at him, meeting his eyes.

his mouth hung just slightly open, he looked dazed, gone, but it turned into a reciprocated smile with ease. his eyes didn’t even glance down. but it was easy to know that you both wanted the same thing. he was out of it, so were you, feeling spinny and high and with those unspoken words you kissed again. this time harder, faster, and it was only a moment before you tugged the drawstrings of his pants.

you rose up just slightly and kissed over him again. he was bracing all he could, trying to pull you back against him desperately, but it took a second for him to figure out what to do. you moved to the side of him while he took them off, still kissing you, hands in your hair when they could be. the moment he kicked them somewhere, your hand rested against his bare chest.

he kissed you like he needed you the same way, yet he was so gentle. everything about him, all movements gentle, his hand in your hair, your roots. he was warm like the breeze in from the window. he felt like air and god, so good. his lips against yours, still soft, but the kiss heavy with intention, both of you dizzy with a lust that filled the room. it was with that hand on his chest that you dragged a gentle finger down his stomach, over the waistband of his boxers and gently let your hand slide over his dick, which stood properly, tenting the fabric.

he made a noise close to a whine when you touched him. it sent another little fire dancing through your veins. you’d never thought about what he’d sound like. or what he’d taste like- but you’d been in the know for about ten minutes. and you wanted him. he wanted you. your hand pressed over him, back and forth just once before your hand slid the other way and rimmed the edge of his boxers. he took them off. it was easy to.

you lost your balance just a little and rolled the wrong way but he brought you back, hand on your waist again. you looked down- he was impressive, pretty. gorgeous. smooth. your lips crashed against his again. every pause felt like minutes and seconds at the same time. and your hand found it’s way to him and he moaned into your mouth. it wasn’t just the marijuana, god, his moan was possibly the most sobering thing. all your thoughts cleared from being clouded. you needed him more, more, more.

you worked him up and down, sitting up on your knees to get that leverage you need. his hum against your lips felt like the best thing in the world. you could kiss him until you died. all of it felt unreal. like you weren’t truly there. like you’d wake up, maybe. you’d kissed him in a few misplaced dreams but you’d never thought it would ever happen though if you asked any bystander, especially patrick, he would have said it was a long time coming. it just so happened today it all crashed in. today you felt everything and god, you’d feel more.

you weren’t sure how long you’d been doing it but your hand wasn’t cramping. or maybe you couldn’t feel it. you were immune. it was probably ages. he moaned into your mouth and it was everything. fuck. “stop- stop, stop, stop-“ he mumbled. “i’m- close.” he said it like he was shy about it. you stopped the first time he said it. he still kissed you, leaking over your fingers. your body was hot, aflame, burning, feeling like the bed was rocking like a boat on the water, worsening when he said he was close. worsening when he looked up at you, eyes soft, tugging at the bottom of your shorts.

he kissed you as you took them off. eager, excited. so excited, but he wouldn’t let you touch him again. or he would, he just wanted to touch you more. he would have done anything. your hips knew more than you did, directed toward him and he took it seriously, pulling you back over him by your waist. his upward dick pressed to your bare stomach, his hand on your left boob, gently squeezing as he kissed you. your hands cupped his face once more and you raised yourself just a little. enough. felt like a freefall. every little detail, every little feeling was felt tenfold. bared to him, there was no room for insecurity, you knew he wouldn’t judge.

and you moved a certain way, sitting back up on your knees, him sitting up to chase your lips and it was dangerous, how close you were. lips on lips, touching, feeling, sitting up and the overwhelmingly all-consuming. his hands slid over your chest, your waist, your bare hip, your ass.

“art-“ you said between kisses. bodies

moving in sync.

he didn’t stop, your hands on his jaw, the back of his neck. “mhm?”

“art, are we-“

“if you want.”

“i want.” you said breathlessly. you could feel that crooked grin against you. “do you?”

“so bad,” he sighed. his hands were tight on you. holding. really holding. his words were the right words. “i’m sorry.”

“shhh-“ you kissed him again. and this time when you lifted yourself to kiss him, to get that leverage over him again, he fixed things below. so that when you moved back, which you did, you sank down onto him. slowly. easily. dizzily. you were surprised it was such a smooth movement. he felt like… “god-“ you breathed.

his noise was muffled. or he tried to muffle it. you pushed down onto him and felt as he slowly, so slowly, filled you. you fit like a puzzle piece against him. feeling everything already, of course you felt every inch as it pushed up. neither of you cared about anything except each other and this, here, now, as you slowly began to ride.

it had been ages since you’d last had sex with anyone and already, this was better than you’d remembered. food tastes better high, best believe sex feels amazing. not only that, but art’s hands on your body, his mouth on your own were delicious and ten times better than you could have ever imagined on their own. sharing air, breathing hard as you slowly rocked on him, moving up and down at the same time.

his hands rested on the crook of your hip that bent around his body and it was the best feeling, being pulled and pushed. neither of you cared about the open window. “fuck…” he groaned. “i-“ his words succumbed to a moan. it felt like power. you pushed against him, grinding with him fully inside you, causing your own moan to mix with his. low, quiet, breathy. “oh my god-“

you were a little proud of yourself. the sounds he was making- he way he grabbed onto you for dear life. his fingers dug into your skin but it didn’t hurt. all you felt was good. your entire body hummed with pleasure. you could feel him and his hands and that was enough. you rocked on him, bouncing just slightly, trying to feel more. chasing a different high. he was above average not by much, but more than you’d ever had, and you could feel every inch. your head spun. it felt so good, you could see colours when you closed your eyes.

“fuck,” he breathed. he sounded like he couldn’t breathe. neither could you- i mean you could but you’d much rather kiss him. or it was less of a kiss, more sharing air while you rode him. it didn’t matter, it was perfect. his body pushing against yours, having him buried deep inside you hitting everything just right, his fingers dipping into the flesh of your hips and ass. he moaned like a whine and it drove you crazy, helping you pick up the pace. he must have liked it, fingers digging deeper, “oh my- fuck- you’re-“ he couldn’t speak. he couldn’t say anything. he couldn’t think. neither could you.

you just grinned, but it was cut short by a fervent kiss. one of his hands held the back of your neck keeping you pressed close as you continued against him. skin on skin, warm, sweaty, sticky in the best way. you moaned, feeling everything a hundred times over, those waves of high crashing against waves of pleasure. how long you’d been at it was a mystery again, but you felt like you could go forever. his hips raised to crash against yours, filling you entirely every time with a grinding force in between. deep.

his moans were deep, from his stomach. both of you not thinking much about volume or sounding pretty as you fucked. it sounded like sex, it smelled like weed, music playing gently in the background sounded unreal and echoey. it felt like heaven though after this you were sure you would never truly see it. it didn’t matter. not now. you were fucking your best friend and it was possibly the best thing you’d ever felt in your life when mixed with the marijuana.

moving in sync, with a pattern, with a repetitive motion- “i’m s-so-“ he couldn’t speak still. he groaned as you used your common sense to figure out what he was trying to say, picking up the pace, fucking him harder. god, you needed it harder, needed it now. you’d forgotten protection but this was worth it. he grabbed you harder, kissed your harder, you felt his teeth just once as he did. “god-“ you could feel he was close and honestly, you felt it too. a knot in your stomach, begging to be undone.

like he was psychic, you felt his hand slip down between you. down your thigh, over your stomach, down to where you met him. his hand made things worse. or better. but worse. he knew exactly where to touch, finding it immediately and intensely, more pleasure pulsed in your veins. he would get you off like this. fuck impairment, he would. you moaned louder than before and you felt him smile. his smile was so pretty. sometimes you just thought about his smile and who wouldn’t, when he smiled at you more often than anyone? you breathed his air now. he breathed yours.

“i’m-“ you tried. he got you back. you couldn’t speak. you smiled too. “i’m so-“

“mmm-“ he replied, hand working. hips still raising desperately to crash against yours. fuck. you were close. so was he. you were unravelling. you felt your muscles contract and so did he, your moans were in sync and he didn’t give a fuck who heard. the people in the dorms above, below, beside, all probably hated you now. the people in the common room probably hated you now. hell, anyone walking outside should hate you.

he spoke quickly, with no air in his lungs, “i’m going to-“ he was waiting. high, waiting, ready. hand still going, he knew what he was doing. you could feel it all. “oh my god-“

you were saying the same things, his hand working fucking magic, god you were so close. you put a little extra force into it, feeling how he touched you making you come undone, you just needed for it to peak. he had no restraint. he didn’t want it. you were high, you needed higher, god, you were so close.

“i’m- fuck- pl-“ between a moan and whine from him. he was trying so hard. “please.”

you smiled, biting your lip just slightly as you felt yourself closer, closest. “art-“ you sighed. you thanked the weed for giving you endless stamina. you couldn’t feel anything but him and how you were coming undone right now, everything coming to peak, crashing waves against a wall. your body flashed hot, flushed pink, god- his hand was so good. you felt yourself tighten around him, the tightest you’d been the entire process and with a muffled moan, you felt him follow you over that edge. he held his breath, you could tell. his hand on your hip gripped tightly, bracing as he finished hard into you.

you felt, warmer within you. deep. it was a good thing you had plan b in the pill cabinet. you were a mess, he was a mess. it was the greatest orgasm you think you’d ever had. it wasn’t just the weed. it was him. it was this. he was thinking the same thing. it was you.

breathing hard, harsh against each other, you rode it out until your hips just had to stop. his hand retracted and came to rest on your other hip. and you kissed him. you didn’t know what else to do, you didn’t want to do anything else, just kiss him. those waves pulled back from the shore with no impending tsunami and just calm. just calm. high, calm. this kiss was gentle, soft, not hungry, not anything else but peaceful. your hands cupped his face, your lips were warm with that dulled passion. only a moment.

you disconnected, his cum seeping out just a little but you passed him a folded towel from your desk chair. it was wordless. you didn’t want to move, but you had to, so it was quick when you cleaned yourself up the best you could, going to the bathroom and opening the cabinet, doing what you had to and coming back within four minutes. it was a good thing that minutes felt like seconds when you were high.

you came back to where he was laying on your bed on his back, also cleaned up with the tilt of a nearby water bottle onto the towel you gave him. you just flopped down onto the bed next to him, still without clothes. “wow.” you sighed, resting a hand on your stomach, staring at the ceiling.

“wow,” he replied. when you closed your eyes the room still spun like a record. the room was silent a beat, just another moment, before you felt that giggle bubble up and escape your lips. but he chuckled too. it was hearty and strong and you both couldn’t stop it. laughing too hard, too much. you were both still catching your breath. you couldn’t stop laughing.

it made sense. laughing fits weren’t out of the ordinary after smoking weed, but sex sure was. and feelings, admitting to any wouldn’t seem too real right now so all you could do was laugh. the unspoken words were just about as loud as the action and that was funny. you turned onto your side just a second to face him and he cut your laugh short by kissing you again. just because he wanted to. actions just as loud as words. kissing you after sex, meaning he wanted you. all around. and you kissed him back and it meant the same thing. only breaking to breathe and laugh. it was peaceful.

it only went on for so long before you both calmed to tired high. his hand, pretty, soft, pushing your hair behind your ear and sliding down your neck, your shoulder, squeezing your upper arm just gently. not a word was spoken until you smiled to break the kiss. “is this weird?”

“no,” he replied. “just don’t tell patrick.”

“why?” you smiled.

he grinned his winning smile back at you, “because i want to.”

“uh huh.” you laughed and shoved him just a little, it was more like a touch. you didn’t mind if art told patrick. it didn’t feel like this was just a whim sort of thing. you liked art. really liked him. you shook your head, “ugh, i’m still high.”

“hungry.” he replied. “pizza?”

“dining hall.”

“not open.”

“ugh.”

“we have iced tea?”

“pizza.” you nodded. and like nothing was different at all, you both got dressed again and headed out. he held the door for you. it didn’t feel like much had changed at all. you were tired, that was one thing, but with art it just felt right, what you’d done. there truly was no downside. no consequences. not with him.

“you really shouldn’t wear that shirt in public.”

“why not?”

“shhhh.”

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queenimmadolla · 11 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

(eddie munson x pregnant!reader)

Summary: You and Eddie discuss your current pregnancy craving...or, in which you want something not all that common of a craving and ridiculously difficult to get a hold of, and Eddie teases you over it even though you both know he's going to get it for you.

warnings: references to baby making activities.

a/n: those damn tiktoks keep getting to me. lil drabble. more dad!eddie here. masterlist.

Pregnancy was not something Eddie Munson believed he would ever understand. Wasn’t something he thought he’d have to do.

Until—at the very responsible age of twenty─he took to finishing inside of you and one of his swimmers took. Played hide-and-seek for a good five months before either of you knew she was there.

You hadn’t started showing until about two or three weeks after finding out, and now at almost seven months, you had the cutest baby bump Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off, a ravenous hunger for the most peculiar things and absolutely no tolerance for the weirdest fucking things; the sound of kernels popping made you want to throw up, and so did the scent of baked goods and the ‘air on Tuesdays’ (Eddie was still trying to work that one out).

Whatever you wanted, Eddie got you. Albeit, with tons of questions asked. Like, right now.

It was late in the evening, chilly throughout the trailer but warm in the room thanks to the trusty space heater Eddie had had for years. The both of you had traded your day clothes for pajamas, so you were in one of his t-shirts and nothing else while he was only clad in a pair of sweats because his body temperature always ran a little on the hot side, and you were curled right up to him. Your head had been previously nuzzling into the crook of his neck, placing kisses over the tendons there and nosing along his jaw but now it was craned back, batting those pretty eyelashes up at him with pleading eyes and a pout.

“Pleeeaaaaase, Eddie?”

“Branzino.” Eddie repeated your request with amused disbelief.

“It’s low in mercury, so I can eat it.”

“Branzino.”

“It’s what she wants!” You chirped, moving a hand to rest over your growing bump. Baby Munson, your little Penny, had recently learned she had legs and could stretch them out in there. Despite the two of you settling down, she seemed to be filled with energy; you could feel her moving around, targeting certain areas with her kicks. She’d been pretty still for a good hour or two so you thought she might have woken up from a nap.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, quirking his brows with lidded eyes, so engrossed with how caring you were for his baby already.

Witnessing you go from awkwardly acknowledging her existence with a pat or uncertain conversation to almost always having a hand over your bump, as if to protect her from a threat while talking to her as though she was already cradled in your arms, had Eddie always so tender with emotion.

He was so proud and in love.

You hummed in confirmation and when Eddie’s hand moved your (his) shirt up, you immediately grasped his wrist to place his palm over the area your baby’s foot was currently pressing up against. Eddie grinned as he felt the movement just under the warmth of your skin, firm and held surprisingly long before it retreated and he rubbed over the area as you relaxed further into him.

“She was stretching.” He correctly deduced.

“Mhm, she’s been kicking the heck out of my ribcage, so I think her head is right here.” You placed your free hand over your bump, just under your left breast, “She only got active after we showered, so she just woke up.”

Eddie felt a little guilty about that, it had probably been him railing you against the shower wall that stirred her from her slumber.

“Sorry, sweet pea.” He mumbled, continuing to rub your belly if not somewhat more apologetic, “I’m just so excited that I can’t get your mom pregnant right now, ‘cause we already have you, and she’s just so horn—“

Eddie laughed as you delivered a swift whack to his chest with the back of your hand, fighting a smile as he teased you through an attempt to talk to your baby.

“Excuse me, you were the one trying to feel me up on the couch!”

“No, I did feel you up. And if I recall correctly, which I do, it was my fingers you were cum—“

“Distracting!” You pointed an accusatory finger in his face, booping the tip of his nose with it, “You’re trying to distract me. Branzino.”

“Ugh,” Eddie sagged into the pillows, but the smirk on his face told you you’d be getting exactly what you wanted, like always. He just liked to give you a hard time. Banter with you was like foreplay to him. “Alright, alright. Since you must have your fish dish─”

“I must,” You placed the back of your hand against your forehead as you fell dramatically back into the pillows.

“And since she’s craving it─”

“She wants branzino so badly and I’d get it for her myself but I’m utterly exhausted─no, not because we had sex,” You had immediately clocked the grinch like twist in his smirk at your mentioning of exhaustion, “I’ll have you know I probably made a good chunk of her brain today. That takes energy. Dedication. And she probably sucked the bone marrow out of me to do it, or something.”

Eddie threw his head back and howled with laughter. You giggled along with him but tried to reason, “Okay, I’m not being completely dramatic, though! She really does steal some of my own body to make hers! I could lose my teeth, Eddie. I read it in a book.”

The bed shook with how hard Eddie was laughing and you delighted in being the reason behind it. Once he calmed down, his head lulled to the side, cheeks red from all that amusement and warm brown hues focused on you.

“You read it in a book, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Ask your doctor about it?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“…��Cause I’m scared she’ll say it’s true.”

You sent Eddie into another laughing fit. When he was done with that one, he launched himself out of bed and you snuggled into the spot he’d occupied—so warm and cozy—to watch him grab a shirt and hoodie from the closet, and his jacket from where he’d thrown it on the dresser. A beanie was shoved on his head and as he wrapped the scarf you’d gotten him around his neck, he eyed you with mirth twinkling in his pretty eyes.

“Branzino in the middle of winter.”

“It’s what she wants!”

“It’s what she wants.” He conceded with a fond smile, “I’ll be back after like an hour and a half of driving around to find a Greek place open so you can replenish your bone marrow with it somehow and grow the rest of her brain.”

You hummed in appreciation, beaming at him as he neared you to lean over and get a thorough kiss goodbye.

“Thank you,” You mumbled shyly against his mouth.

“You don’t have to thank me . . . but you’re welcome.” He teased.

Driving around in the cold didn't seem all that terrible with you blowing him kisses from the bed, and his baby growing inside you.

That damn fish was so worth it.

1K notes · View notes

bucky-fricking-barnes · 11 months ago

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

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