#and it's like why did you make that choice
Text
the alchemy
Mob!Bucky x Reader
Run-through: About a decade ago you left your home and ran away, looking for a fresh start after having had your heart broken by the boy you loved. Now you’re back and turns out Bucky Barnes – the same man who once broke your heart – is adamant on tormenting you some more. But why? Why does he want you back at all cost when he was the one who once pushed you away and crushed your heart like it meant nothing to him? What secrets has he been keeping for almost a decade? Most importantly, what truly happened that night he broke your heart?
Themes: forced marriage/marriage of convenience, angst, mob!bucky, metal arm, fluff, smut, possessive!bucky, childhood friends-to-enemies-to-lovers trope, bratty!reader, mentions of violence, explicit language, slow burn-ish, HEA
a/n: new mob!bucky pics dropped–
“I do.” You said in a sombre voice, with blood dripping from the cut on your lip as you sealed your fate and married your worst enemy.
Bucky’s face was bleeding too, your nails had done some damage earlier when you both got into a physical altercation like wild animals. You nearly smirked when you realised he looked worse than you did.
Then again you both looked like you went through hell as you stood here, at this makeshift altar, in the middle of what used to be the foyer of your father’s mansion before Bucky and his men shot at it until it was nothing but rubble, broken glass, and cracked marble.
Messy hair. Cuts and bruises all over your bodies. Dishevelled clothes. Your white jumpsuit had your own bloodstains on it, and his all black suit was torn in certain places. But he looked every bit the man they say he is. Dangerous. Cold, dark presence. The large bruise on his jaw was beginning to get darker now, thanks to the many punches from you. His near shoulder length hair was surprisingly looking neat. It pissed you off.
You looked like a mess too. And for a brief second, as his blue eyes looked down at your throat, you knew he could see a matching bruise forming around your neck from when he’d pinned you down to the floor earlier with that damned metal arm.
No one was dead, none of your people and none of his. Thankfully. But right now, as you married the man standing in front of you, you felt dead inside.
“You may now kiss the bride.” Was all you heard and you remained still as Bucky grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him.
You resisted for a moment, but then he pulled you harder until your chests collided and you had no choice but to remain pressed against him. “I’m tired of these games, princess.” He hissed in a lowered voice, looking down at you with his merciless blue eyes.
You stared back at him with equal contempt. “You’re gonna regret this, Barnes.” You sneered, in a hushed voice. Not that the injured family members and men surrounding you – both his men and your father’s guards who stood and watched the show in disbelief and shock would mind the disrespect for each other in both your tones – but you didn’t want to add to the ridiculousness of this situation.
“Oh?” He taunted with a faint smirk. Only then did you notice the small cut on his upper lip. It brought you a little solace. “You’re my wife now, you will do as I say.”
The bitterness in your tone matched his as you said, “We’ll see about that, husband.”
You could tell he’d accepted the unspoken challenge, and he would do anything to win. After all, everything was a game to Bucky Barnes. He didn’t care who he used, who he manipulated, or who he tossed aside. He paraded around like he owned this world and everything and everyone in it.
Bucky scoffed then leaned in to kiss you, hard. It wasn’t a loving kiss in any way. It was possessive though. Like he was putting on a show for whoever was watching, making sure everyone in this dilapidated room understood that you were his now.
You kissed him back, angrily. You despised him. Your entire family did. But they couldn’t save you this time. Bucky’s attack was unexpected. Your guards were unprepared. You were the last line of defence and this… union was necessary. You had to offer something, anything. Otherwise Bucky and his guys threatened to burn down your half of the city and turned it to ash immediately.
But it wasn’t always like this. Your families used to be allies. You actually grew up with Bucky, he tolerated you enough back then and you had always had a crush on him.
Then that night happened almost a decade ago…
It was your twentieth birthday party, and your father made an announcement which you were not ready for.
He announced to the ballroom filled with important people that you were to marry Bucky, and that both families were beyond happy to transform their friendship into something more solid through this alliance.
You remained frozen in place for long minutes after that announcement was made, even though your heart raced like never before. No one had told you about this, but judging by the way your family hugged and congratulated Bucky’s family you understood that this was all planned.
You kept that smile on your face though, as people walked over to congratulate you. You looked around and tried to find Bucky in the crowd to see if he knew about this but he was nowhere to be found.
You were certain he was here just a moment ago, leaning against one of the pillars and brooding as always. And he’d just disappeared.
The announcement made your heart flutter incessantly. After all, you’d always had a huge crush on Bucky. How could you not? He was the boy you grew up around, he had pretty eyes and nice hair. Sure he was broody and rarely ever smiled but you liked how it suited his bad boy personality. And your young heart was weak for the handsome boy with tattoos and blue eyes.
After people were done congratulating you, you discretely walked out of the party and decided to look around and try to find Bucky. You hated how giddy you were. Sure, Bucky was broody and rarely ever laughed. He spent his entire time glaring at you then getting jealous when you talked to other guys. But you had liked him since forever.
You looked all over your father’s mansion. Bucky was nowhere to be found indoors. So… maybe the pool area outside? You started walking in that direction, feeling like a princess in your white ball gown as you walked down an empty hallway, a faint smile on your face as you looked for the man you were meant to marry soon.
Maybe Bucky knew about this announcement. Maybe he was okay with it. Maybe this would be your fairytale in real life, you thought. Maybe you’d melt his frozen heart and everything would be perfect. Maybe he liked you back all along and you just never knew!
“...marry her?”
Your smile vanished as you stopped right before you stepped outside onto the patio. Was that Bucky’s voice? Was he talking to someone? You quietly stepped closer, hiding behind the plants as you tried your hardest to listen to what he was saying.
You could see him, standing on the black tiles by the pool. He had his back to you, and he held a phone to his ear. His broad shoulders and lean waist accentuated by how well that black suit moulded to his muscular body. You watched as he ran his fingers through his short black hair in frustration.
Who was he talking to?
“No!” He barked at the phone. “Did you not listen to what I just said? I don’t want to do this!” He yelled, not bothering that anyone around might hear him. “I tried to talk them out of it! This is so fucking stupid!”
You blinked in surprise, unable to process what you were hearing.
“I don’t care what I have to do, but I will not marry her.” He said with enough venomous certitude that a silent tear fell down your face.
All your previous delusions turned to nothing but heavy disappointment. It made you feel stupid. This gown felt stupid. The diamonds around your neck, around your wrists and in your hair felt stupid. How stupid of you to think this was all going to end well? How stupid of you to think your childhood crush actually meant something? How stupid of you to think that there was a chance he liked you back? Of course he didn’t. He wouldn’t have ignored you for years if he did.
You couldn’t stop the sudden sob that escaped your mouth. Afraid that he might have heard, you took a few steps back and hid behind a nearby, tall potted shrub.
Things were quiet for a moment or two. You heard him whispering so quietly you couldn’t make out what he said. Your face burned in embarrassment at the thought of him finding you here. You already felt stupid and childish, you didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping in this situation.
But then he resumed talking on the phone. You couldn’t risk moving to look at him so you remained hiding, and listened. Your heart broke with each word that left his mouth.
“And she’s so blind she doesn’t even see it.” He hissed, louder this time. “I barely tolerate her. Her whiny, and bratty attitude. I mean she’s a grown woman and still acts like she’s daddy’s little princess.” He scoffed. “You should’ve seen her today, she looks like a kid’s toy with that ridiculous dress on.”
More tears streamed down your face as you heard nothing but distaste and irritation in his voice. This was the boy you had a hopeless crush on? This is what he thought of you?
You didn’t need to hear more. This was more than enough to completely break you so you turned around and quietly walked back down the same hallway. You wiped your tears, and put a fake smile on as you went back to your party. This time with a plan in your head.
You endured the party with a heavy heart. Faked some more smiles until it ended. You didn’t see Bucky again for the rest of the night, which was good. By the early hours of the morning, everyone had left. You wandered around that empty ballroom like a ghost that night. For hours. Thinking, plotting. It was clear Bucky didn’t want this. And now neither did you. But your families had announced it. So what exactly could you do?
By the time the sun rose, you had already written a note to your father and left it on his desk. By the time the sky brightened, your bags were packed and you were already driving out of the mansion grounds. And you knew that by the time your father would go into his office and find that note, you would already be on a plane, on your way out of here.
You didn’t give too many details in the note. You simply said that you were leaving, not knowing when or if you’d be back.
Truth was, you had no solid plans. All you knew was that you needed to get away from home.
You didn’t know that when you’d return home – almost a decade later, so much would have changed.
Your father was angry. Livid actually, that you’d been away for years without contact. You briefly explained why you needed to leave. And how you’d been able to make a name for yourself elsewhere. But after he was done berating you for what you did when you were twenty and stupid, he filled you in on all that you’d missed in the past decade almost.
Some important points were: your family and Bucky were no longer allies, but were now each others’ worst rivals but no one knew that. The city was now secretly divided – your family ruled and controlled one side, and Bucky ruled the other.
“It’s just him now?” You had asked, and your father nodded.
“A lot happened after you left, actually–”
A loud noise cut him off. Rounds of bullets shot at the windows of the house, from all sides it seemed. And it was pure chaos. You could hear your guards fighting back, but even by just hearing the commotion you could tell you were severely outnumbered.
But whoever it was, they weren’t shooting at anyone, just at windows – making enough noise to get your attention and to get you to come outside.
You marched out of the room despite your father ordering you not to. And you were halfway down the grand stairs when he walked in and spotted you immediately with a smug look on his face.
Bucky. Walked in like he owned the place. He stopped in the middle of the foyer, which was now ruined. Bits and pieces of concrete and glass all over the marble floor. Flower pots destroyed, the gilded mirror in pieces as well. He made a mess of the home you grew up in and you almost shot him right in the heart there and then.
Here was the man who once broke your heart after making you think for years that maybe you had a chance.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You hissed. You could hear your father coming to a stop on the landing several steps behind you. He was unprepared. You were armed with only one handgun tucked into your pocket. Your guards were outnumbered. This was a shitshow.
The guards – his and yours – stopped firing and now just stood all over the place on high alert. And you knew, deep down in your gut you just knew something which you weren’t ready for was about to happen.
“I see you’re finally home, princess.” Bucky just gave you a cold smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. The action drew your attention to one specific thing. The metal arm. You frowned at it in confusion, but didn’t react.
But that word… ‘princess’ brought back memories which chased you out of this place. And it only fueled your anger.
“What the fuck do you want?”
He lifted his nose slightly in the air, like the arrogant prick he had always been. “I’m here to collect what I was promised.” His voice was strong and confident. “A bride. Now you have a choice, princess. Either we do this in peace and no one gets hurt, or…”
He didn’t even have to finish his sentence because on cue, one of his guards sneakily appeared on the landing behind you, holding a gun to your father’s head. You froze for a moment. The look on your father’s face made everything so serious all of a sudden. You had to be extra careful here.
“You wouldn’t.”
He scoffed, “Wouldn’t I?”
You argued, “It’s been almost a decade.”
“I don’t care. We were supposed to marry each other–,”
You cut him off, “Yes, and you didn’t want that, did you? I heard you on the phone that night.” You finally confessed. “By the pool. I remember every single word that came out of your fucking mouth. So don’t come here acting like you’re entitled to–,”
“You think you know everything, don’t you?” He smirked, shaking his head. “Is that why you ran away? And didn’t come home for a decade? Because you spied on me that night and didn’t like what you heard?”
That did it. One moment you were standing on the stairs, afraid that your father might get hurt and the next you had your gun out and shot right at his metal arm, knowing it wouldn’t hurt him but it would make him lower his guard for just a second.
And that one second was enough to jump him and punch him right in the jaw. Fuck, it hurt but it also felt so damn good. All those years you’d been away, you were also training in your free time. And you knew you were good at combat.
But so was he. A few punches in and he managed to throw you down on the floor and pin you to the ground with that same metal hand around your throat, keeping you in place. You didn’t know why his guards just stood and did nothing, as though they had been ordered not to shoot at anyone here.
But you weren’t under any such orders, so you managed to land another punch to his jaw before he yelled, “Enough!” Right in your face. “Stop this shit, or I swear to–,”
You cut him off by punching him again, trying to get free the moment you felt his metal hand get loose around your throat. He growled in annoyance and tightened his grip.
“You’re like a wild fucking animal. Stop!”
You gritted your teeth at the insult and scratched his face exactly like how a wild animal would. You tried everything, tried to punch him again, tried to scratch down his neck and arms which only tore his shirt instead of his skin. You went for yet another punch and only then did you feel another pair of arms – one of his guards – pulling your hands away from his face. You thrashed and tried your hardest to break free but you couldn’t and ended up biting your own lip rather badly in the process.
“I fucking hate you, Bucky Barnes!” You hissed, defeated, and now with a bleeding, throbbing cut on your lip which matched his.
Bucky kept his hand around your neck as he leaned in menacingly and whispered, “Hate me all you want, princess. But you will marry me. Right here. Right now.”
And that’s how you found yourself kissing your husband, in the foyer of your father’s ruined mansion. With your helpless father, and the many guards as witnesses.
You pulled away from the kiss, breathless and angrier than earlier. Jaws clenched, you were ready to tackle him to the ground again, maybe actually shoot him with your gun this time, but he spoke before you could say anything.
“Let’s go.” He spoke, and like the loyal followers that they were, all of his guards silently walked out of your house. And Bucky grabbed your hand firmly in his and began pulling you out of the house as well.
You resisted again. “Wait! You brute!” You pulled your hand away from his and ran back up the stairs to your father. “I ruined everything, I’m sorry.”
He just hugged you and told you to be careful and be smart. And that he forgives you. You promised you’d come to see him soon. And then you left, refusing to take Bucky’s hand again as you walked out of your father’s house.
You needed to think. You couldn’t fight him right now. Besides, it’s not like you married him legally. All Bucky wanted was to make a scene and you let him. For now. You’d need some time to come up with a plan and decide what needed to be done. But for now…
“If you’re thinking about running away and disappearing for a decade again, you better stop. You’re not getting away this time. You hear me?” Bucky spoke, sitting next to you in the backseat of his car as the driver drove to his side of the city, to his house surely. That authoritative tone of his made you want to scratch his face again.
“You seem to be under the impression that you’re in control here, Barnes. Just know, I could still shoot you right now if I wanted to.” You didn’t look at him, you looked out the window. At the city that had changed in your absence.
“Ouch.” He faked his surprise. Then proceeded to put his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest, leaning down he whispered into your ear, “That’s not a nice way of treating your new husband, now is it?”
You gave him a fake smile, ignoring the way your brain thought he smelled delicious, and reached into your pocket to pull out your handgun. Placing the cold barrel right under his chin you said, “Try me, husband.”
The driver cleared his throat in nervousness and you didn’t want to traumatise the man so you pulled your gun away but left it in Bucky’s line of sight. He pulled away then, pulling his hand away from your shoulders but placed his metal hand on your thigh. A possessive move.
Yet that didn’t bother as much. But the metal hand? Where did that come from? What happened while you were gone?
He answered your questions voluntarily. “Got caught in a crossfire. I got shot too many times, the arm was beyond saving. So I had the metal arm made. It’s a very intricate technology, but it works just fine.” He said, flexing the hand on your skin.
You didn’t miss the hidden sexual connotation in that last part of his sentence. And you certainly couldn’t ignore the way your body responded to the cold, metal touch. It looked… badass. Not that you would ever tell him.
You tried to look out the window again, but his touch on your thigh was more distracting than you wanted it to be. It was all you could focus on. Just to stop thinking about it you said, “I don’t have any of my things.”
“It’s all been taken care of. Don’t worry.” He answered, looking down at his phone. Acting like he didn’t know his hand on your thigh was messing you up.
Still you frowned at his answer, “What do you mean it’s been taken care of?” Then you paused and thought about it for a moment, “Did you–” You sighed, “You knew I was coming, didn’t you? Did you have people spying on me?”
He shrugged, “You thought I would let my betrothed be out there in the world without keeping an eye on her?” He scoffed, looking up from his phone for a brief moment, “Of course I did. I know everything about you. I even know all about that secret, women-only army you created.” He added, “I was half expecting them to pop out of nowhere earlier at your father’s house.”
You were in disbelief. This whole time you thought you’d hid well. But no.
“Where are they anyway? Your girls?” He asked, and for once it didn’t sound like a taunt. It sounded like he was genuinely curious.
“Probably out hunting and beheading men who think they can get away with forcing women into marrying them by threatening to kill their fathers.” You gave him another one of your fake smiles, “I’ve trained them well.”
Bucky smiled back. “Well good. When they get here to try and free you, we could unite our forces. We’ll be untouchable then, you and I. I have the money and you have an army.” He winked. “Ultimate power couple.”
“You won’t get away with this, Barnes.”
He looked out of the window and said, “I just came to collect what was promised to be mine that night.”
You argued, bitterly, “Oh we both know what happened that night.”
“I do.” He said, “But do you? Do you really?”
You remained quiet for a moment. This was the second time he questioned your knowledge of what truly happened that night. As if you hadn’t heard him loud and clear on that phone call.
“You–,”
He cut you off and looked out the window as he said, “We’re home.”
It had been a long day. And you were running out of energy so instead of arguing some more, you just followed him out of the car and remained stunned for a moment as you looked at his house. It wasn’t his family home. This one seemed new.
It was just as large as your father’s mansion, just a lot more contemporary compared to the more Georgian architecture-inspired one you grew up in.
Bucky’s house sat on a sprawling green and pristine property. It was a perfect blend of sleek architecture and a glass house, which allowed the right amount of privacy but also allowed glimpses of the warm, farmhouse inspired interior. Even from outside you could tell it was homey and bright inside.
Before you could get a word out, you felt his hands on you again. You tensed up and almost hit him again in defence but before you could, Bucky was carrying you bridal style – literally – and marching towards the large doors of his ridiculously pretty home.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You questioned, squirming just a little in the intimate embrace.
“Traditions,” He said, looking down at you, “Can’t have you trip at the doorstep and risk bringing bad luck into our marriage.”
You frowned at him, reluctantly wrapping your arms around his neck for support. “You say ‘our marriage’ like it’s gonna be a real thing. It won’t, Barnes. I’ll be out of here before you–,”
He used you to push open the door and the warm interior of the home shut you up. For some reason you never imagined someone like Bucky would live in a house that actually looked like a home. You pictured him living in some villain’s lair.
But this was… beautiful.
You squirmed into his arms until he finally set you down carefully. You stood there for a minute, in the foyer, just looking around. Then you couldn’t help but say, “It would be a real pain if someone just started shooting at the windows of your house like a madman, wouldn’t it?” You waved your gun in front of his face.
“I’ll send people over tomorrow morning to fix your father’s house.”
“You don’t even sound apologetic.” You scoffed.
“I’m not.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Was it necessary? To shoot at my house like that? You couldn’t just, I don’t know, ring the doorbell to get me to come outside? You absolutely had to be a child?”
He smirked then said, “First of all, that isn’t your house anymore. This is where you live now, and you will call this your home. Second of all, why blame me when you acted just as childish when you decided to run away all those years ago? Third of all, I did it because, well, I do like some drama.”
You couldn’t not believe him. “You amaze me with your stupidity, Barnes.”
“You amaze me with your bratty attitude, Mrs. Barnes.”
You stepped closer to him, slow and in a threatening manner. “Don’t call me that.”
“Don’t call me that.”
You sighed, “You know you’re still that little boy who used to bully everyone when we played as kids.”
He clarified, “No, I bullied you because you were annoying. Everyone else was fine.”
“I hate you.” You said with enough hostility you hoped it would shut him up.
It didn’t. “Well, see.” He took your hand in his and said slowly as if talking you down, “That’s something we’ll work on together as a couple.”
You pulled your hand away and were so tempted to just–
“Come,” he said, “I’ll show you where our room is.” You began protesting immediately but he cut you off by saying, “Stop being fucking difficult. We’re married now, act like it.”
“I want a separate room!”
“No.”
“I’m not sleeping with you!”
“Then don’t. But you will sleep in my bed. Like my wife should.”
“You’re a fucking animal!” You tried tugging your hand free from his grasp.
Bucky had had enough. So he pinned you to the nearest surface, which happened to be the closed door of his bedroom. He grabbed both your wrists in his metal hand and pinned them above your head. His face was just inches away from yours, and he stared deep into your eyes.
Your mind immediately went to that harsh kiss you’d shared earlier. And you hated how your body squirmed just as the thought of it. You refused to think about it any more, but his mouth was just so, so close. The cut on his lip, the slight stubble on his cheek and around his mouth, the texture of his skin, you were picking up on details you’d missed.
Bucky spoke in a calm, deep voice which sent shivers down your spine. “Let’s be adults here, okay? You stop acting like a brat, and I’ll stop treating you like one.” He said, pressing his chest into yours. “It’s been a long day, and I know you’re running out of energy as well so stop resisting me. If I was an animal, I would’ve dragged you to bed right now and would’ve made you mine in every sense of the word.” He whispered, his voice cold and dangerous. “But I’m not. So you will walk into this room, and head straight for a warm shower and after you’re done we’re gonna clean these wounds. Am I clear?”
You nodded quickly, like an idiot entranced by his gorgeous voice.
“Use your words, princess. Am I clear?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
—
You leaned against the counter, wrapped in a fluffy robe and another towel wrapped around your wet hair, and Bucky was cleaning the cut on your lip.
His wounds were all cleaned. It looked like he had used a different shower while you were in here. His long hair was damp and tied into a small bun, with strands of his dark hair falling on either side of his face. He had changed into a tight black t-shirt and PJ trousers. It was frustrating to look at him. Because he looked so damn good.
Last time you’d seen him was when he was a twenty year old boy. He’d changed since. He seemed taller somehow. Or maybe it was just the muscles making him look bigger.
You couldn’t look away from the metal arm. And the intricate details on it.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asked, throwing the used cotton balls and napkins in the trash can.
You didn’t miss the way he was being gentle all of a sudden. Calm voice, calm movement. Very different from the man who’d forced you to marry him just hours ago.
“No.” You answered, turning around to look in the mirror. The bruise on your neck was very much visible now. You didn’t notice Bucky approaching you again, you didn’t notice how close he got, not until he reached out and touched your neck with his warm fingers.
And for the first time, he sounded genuine when he said, “I’m sorry. About that.”
You met his eyes through the mirror and remained quiet for a moment. For a brief moment you thought back to that night. What if you hadn’t heard him on the phone? What if you had married him back then? Would this be a normal, daily thing? Sharing a bathroom, a bed?
“I punched you. Multiple times. This makes us equal.”
Bucky scoffed, then nodded. Then said, “Come to bed when you’re done.” And left you alone in the bathroom.
Shit. You stared at yourself in the mirror. What a day. All you wanted was to pay your father a visit and maybe spend some days at home and then fly back to where you came from. Having your father’s house be attacked, getting married, and having to share a bedroom with the man who once broke your heart… yeah, all that wasn’t in the plan.
You changed into some comfy PJs Bucky had brought you earlier and walked out into the bedroom. You found Bucky on his phone again, standing by the foot of the bed.
“Which side do you sleep on?” He asked, not looking up from his phone.
“Uh, right.” You answered, because for some reason now he felt the need to ask for your opinion.
Bucky didn’t say a word as he moved to the left side of the bed and peeled back the covers before getting in. Like this was just another day. Like this was normal. You awkwardly walked to your side of the bed and just stood there for a moment.
“Just get in bed. I won’t touch you.”
He didn’t even look at you as he spoke and, well, the lack of attention from him bothered you. Oh what the hell. You pulled the covers and got under them. You curled onto your side, with your back facing him.
Soon, you heard him click something and all the lights turned off. You sensed movement behind you but that was it. He didn’t touch you. In fact, there was so much distance between you two that your back felt cold. And now that annoyed you as well.
You couldn’t sleep.
An hour went by, you still couldn’t sleep.
Another hour went by, and now you’d begun tossing and turning so much that you heard Bucky groaning.
“Will you stop that?”
“I can’t sleep.” You mumbled.
“Don’t make it my problem. Stop moving.”
“Wow. Some husband you are.”
Silence. Then you felt your body sliding across the bed as Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his warm chest.
“What the–,”
“Shh.” He cut you off, his warm breath tickling your cheek as he spooned you from behind. “It’s cold. We could both use the warmth. Now go to sleep.”
You scoffed, but didn’t move. “Your fancy house doesn’t have a thermostat? Fix the temperature.”
“I like this better.”
“I better not find your hands wandering.”
You moved around for a bit, finding a comfortable spot. Then you moved some more and Bucky tightened his arm around you and whispered into your ear, “Stop wiggling against my cock. I understand it’s our wedding night and all but I’m too tired to do anything.”
Your face burned in embarrassment. You tried to put some distance between your bodies, even though you liked his body heat, but thankfully Bucky pulled you right back.
“Did I say you can move?” He chided.
“What now, I need your permission to get comfortable in bed?”
“Brat.”
“Asshole.”
—
You didn’t know when you fell asleep at night. But the heat from Bucky’s chest definitely helped. It must’ve been that. And in the middle of the night, you must’ve searched for more heat. That was probably the only reason why you woke up and found yourself sprawled all over him, face into the crook of his neck and both your hands under his shirt, legs tangled with his.
“You call me an animal. But look at you. Touching me while I was sleeping.” He mumbled. “Shameless.”
You pulled away so fast, but then regretted it. Because now you missed his warmth. You shivered even under the covers. “Would it kill you to keep your damn house a little warmer?”
He just yawned and got out of bed. “Get ready.” He said, “We might have a guest coming over. And you have to be a good little wife and play host.”
“Fuck you.”
“Oh you will.” He teased, “Soon.” Then he winked and walked out of the room.
Well, he at least was giving you some privacy and let you have this bathroom all to yourself. Screw his and his mind games. First he barges into your house, forces you to marry him, then cuddles you to sleep.
You caught yourself frowning multiple times while you showered, did some skin care, and found the closet on the other side of the room. You weren’t even surprised when you found a whole section filled with all you could need. All the shoes seemed like they would fit you, all the outfits as well.
Nothing fazed you anymore. Not even the fact that your new husband might be a bit of a stalker. How else would he know your underwear size!? And there were drawers full of them.
You tried not to worry too much as you got dressed. You were gonna get out of here soon anyway.
Once dressed and ready for the day, you got downstairs and immediately heard Bucky’s voice, along with another voice. They were laughing over something. You found out where they were and approached the high-ceilinged, charming, farmhouse-inspired kitchen which blended with a spacious, cosy dining area.
The other man had his back to you, but you knew that voice. Even though you hadn’t heard it in years.
“Sam?” You couldn’t help but call out, lingering by the large doorway. Bucky remained leaning against the kitchen counter with a coffee mug in his hand, while Sam got up from where he sat at the breakfast counter.
He turned around and his familiar, warm brown eyes met yours. He gave you a comforting smile. You, Sam, and Bucky all grew up together, along with some other kids from families similar to yours. And Sam had always been a sweetheart. You’d missed him.
So you didn’t even hesitate to walk right into his arms once he opened them, wanting a hug. You squeezed him tight and said, “I thought I’d never see you again, Sammy!”
Sam hugged you back just as tight, “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in almost a decade.” He pulled away to look down at you before giving you a loud kiss on the cheek. Safe to say, he was just as handsome as he was when you left this place. “How have you been?”
You looked over Sam’s broad shoulder and found a broody Bucky. “I’ve been better.”
Sam got really serious, and was about to say something but Bucky’s voice rumbled from behind. “That’s enough hugging and smooching. Sam, stop touching my wife.”
“Ooh, your wife.” Sam teased, before letting go of you and letting you walk out of his arms. “First of all, why didn’t you tell me you two were planning to get married this whole time?” He asked Bucky in an accusatory tone. “My childhood friends got married and I wasn’t even invited.”
Sam sat back down at the breakfast counter, so he didn’t see the questioning stare you sent Bucky. So Sam wasn’t aware of the circumstances under which you got married? Of course he didn’t. Nobody knew, and Bucky wasn’t about to tell anyone
“It all happened so quickly, Sam.” You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as you said, “Bucky was… impatient. Even my father didn’t have time to prepare much. It all just, you know, happened.” You spoke as you helped yourself to some breakfast, taking a seat at the table where you could see both men well.
You didn’t miss the way Bucky’s jaws kept clenching and unclenching as you tiptoed the line between telling the truth and lying to Sam.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “I know how impatient he can be.” He glared at Bucky, who shook his head in disbelief.
“I take it you two work together now?” You only asked because you remember how the parents would always talk about how wonderful it would be if these two boys worked together. Apparently they made a great team back then.
“We do.” Bucky answered, placing his mug down before turning around and began chopping some things.
“You see,” Sam began explaining in a playful tone. “After everything happened, Bucky was all along. Poor little princeling with no guidance and a kingdom to run.” You saw Bucky shaking his head at Sam’s words. Sam continued, “So I knew I had to step in and become his mentor. He wouldn’t have survived without me.”
You made a mental note to ask about what ‘everything’ he was referring to, but couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie between them, despite it all. Sam had always been a good company. He was the sun rays filtering through dark clouds, and Bucky was the dark, gloomy day who needed the sun’s brightness.
“Wouldn’t have survived.” Bucky muttered, mocking his friend. “You helped me train sometimes. You introduced me to people. That’s about it.” He clarified, bringing over a bowl of chopped fruit over to you and pushed it towards you without a word said.
You liked fruits for breakfast. And you assumed he remembered. But he did it all too casually. As if he did it every day. You didn’t want to cause a scene so you accepted the bowl quietly.
“That’s about it?” Sam shook his head, then turned to you. “I took care of him like a parent–,”
“No you didn’t. You–”
“–and this is how he treats me. I should’ve let you bleed out from that bullet wound that one time. Maybe you wouldn’t be here disrespecting me then.”
You chuckled, clearly on Sam’s team. Bucky didn’t like that. “What about my wife then? Who would be taking care of her?”
“I would.” Sam answered without missing a beat. “We all know if not you then I was gonna marry her.” He turned to you, knowing damn well he was gonna get a reaction out of Bucky any time now. Sam lived to mess with Bucky after all. He always did, ever since you were all kids. “Wouldn’t you have married me if Bucky had died?” He asked you with that mischievous smile on his face.
“I–,”
“You answer that and you’ll never see Sam again.” Bucky said, narrowing his eyes at you, before you couldn’t get a word out of your mouth.
Sam smirked triumphantly.
You rolled your eyes at Bucky and looked right at Sam and said, “I would’ve married you in a heartbeat, Sammy.”
Sam went to grab your hand, surely to bring it up to his lips for a kiss, but Bucky threw a napkin right at him before he could.
“You touch my wife again and I swear–,”
“Must you always threaten people?” You asked, glaring at Bucky.
He glared back. And opened his mouth to say something but Sam cut him off. “Hey, hey, kids. No fighting.” He quickly changed the topic, “Now, since you have gotten married and no one was there, how about a party? To announce it to everyone? We could invite the whole city.”
Party. Yeah right. The last time you attended an extravagant party you had your heart broken. Not just broken, but stepped onto and crushed to a pulp.
You went to say no, “Maybe we shouldn’t–,”
But Bucky declared, “Absolutely we should. After all, we waited almost a decade to marry each other.” He looked right at you as he said that. “It’s time everyone knows you’re finally mine.”
“Perfect!” Sam began planning immediately. He had always been the life of all parties, and he loved them.
While you occasionally answered his questions, you didn’t stop glaring at your husband while you finished your breakfast. There was something he was hiding. You were certain of it. But what?
—
A couple days later, it was finally the night of the party.
The past few days had been more or less similar. You’d always wake up sprawled all over Bucky’s chest, and he always made a teasing comment about it. You’d have breakfast in silence, after which he’d disappear and then he’d come home in the evenings. You never talked while having dinner.
The one time you did talk, it didn’t end well.
You brought it up at dinner. “I tried to go out today. Your people followed me into the city.”
“Our people.” He corrected. Bucky didn’t find anything wrong with that apparently because he simply said, “And they’re your security detail. They’ve been ordered to follow you.”
“So I don’t escape?”
“So you’re always safe.”
“Oh come on. You can’t keep me here forever.”
He shrugged, “You’re not being kept. This is your home, we’re married. This is where you live now.”
You stood up from the table.You didn’t care that the housekeepers you’d been recently introduced to could hear. “And who are you to make that decision for me?” You asked, in a surprisingly calm tone.
He replied in a similar tone. “Your husband.”
You sighed, trying your hardest to keep it all contained. “I have a life, you know? A totally separate life I’ve been living since I left this place. I have to get back to it at some point. You proved your point. Now let me go.”
He ignored all of that. “I’m working on transferring all your businesses and staff here.” He announced. “I’m buying a brand new building in the city, you can have it and set it up however you want. The only thing I can’t find is your secret army of highly trained soldiers.”
“You’ll never find my girls.”
“Why’s that?”
“They’re trained to outrun men like you. All men, in fact.” You added, “I made sure of that. I made sure they’d never be used and moved around like pieces on a chessboard then discarded by people like you.”
“Sounds like you speak from experience.”
“Fuck you, Barnes.” You spat before walking away.
You made sure to sleep on the very edge of the gigantic bed that night, as far away from him as possible. But in the morning, you still woke up snuggled into his chest, on his side of the bed, like you’d been trying to burrow under his skin seeking warmth at night.
You didn’t speak after that. You made sure to ignore him. Each time you left the house, to go see your father or to just roam around the city you’d missed so much, you’d look in the rear view mirror and find big, bulky SUVs following you around.
And here you were now, after days of silent treatment, you stood in front of the large mirror in the closet of your bedroom and watched your reflection. Of course the bastard had chosen an extravagant evening gown for you to wear which looked eerily similar to the one you wore that night for your birthday almost ten years ago.
Except this one was much more elegant. And looked a lot like a wedding dress. With its simple square neckline, thin straps, fitted bodice and a majestic skirt. All white and sparkly. The last time you felt like a princess, the night ended terribly. So this time you were afraid to even let yourself appreciate the beautiful woman in the mirror who stared back at you.
You kept fidgeting, with the skirt of the dress, watching it swish around. You didn’t notice Bucky approaching you from behind. Not until he stood right behind you, his chest brushing against your slight exposed back.
He looked… unreal in his all black suit. Shiny black tie and a small shiny pin. His hair was perfect as always, and his all black outfit really made his eyes seem bluer than ever. Or maybe it was the lights in this closet that did it. But it made you notice the lines by his eyes, which gave away just how much time had gone by.
He was still that bad boy with tattoos whom you had a crush on, who made your race whenever he looked at you. Except now he was older, meaner. And your husband. Whom you hated.
Did you?
You tensed up when he placed a hand on your waist, right where the bodice and skirt were sewn together. You met his eyes through the mirror, but said nothing. You had no mean words to throw at him this time and neither did he.
“You look beautiful.” He said, leaning in just a little to rest his cheek against your temple.
You froze at the soft touch which drove you insane. You must be ovulating, you thought, because there was no way that mere touch was making your heart race like this for no other reason. You began breathing faster, that’s how fast your heart was racing.
You almost leaned into his touch, ready to forget it all just for one moment of warmth. Of peace and quiet. Just one moment to appreciate that you looked beautiful and you had your husband’s attention and all was well. To appreciate that you two look great together. To stop fighting this weird alchemy between you two which kept drawing you to one another no matter what. But then you remembered.
“Do I?” You asked, keeping your voice steady. “You sure I don’t look like a kid’s toy with this ridiculous dress on?”
He remembered too, judging by the look on his face. He looked surprised, then briefly apologetic before settling on a familiar, broody frown. “What did I say about being a brat?”
“I’ll stop being a brat when you stop being an asshole.” You scoffed. “You always were so… careless. With people. With everything. Always thinking you were above everyone else, ever since we were just kids.” You added, “I hate you.”
He smirked, then grabbed your elbow and turned you around so he could look at you, or glare at you with his ocean blue eyes. “You didn’t hate me back then, did you?” He pushed you against the closest surface, which happened to be a wooden dresser. “You craved my attention back then. You used to find excuses to hold my hand when we were little. When we got older you used to hate it when I looked at other girls at school. Now look at you. You’re in my house, you sleep in my bed.” He leaned in, whispering in your ear, “You’re my wife. Then why do you keep resisting me, hmm?”
“I was stupid back then. Wasted so much time trying to get your attention, and all I ever was to you was a whiny, bratty–,” You cut yourself off with a surprised gasp as you watched Bucky lower to his knees in front of you, his hands lifting the skirt of your dress. He was rough with it, crumpling it in his strong fists. “What are you doing?” You asked, shocked and surprised but not making a move to get away. “You– you’re ruining my dress.”
He looked up at you, bunching some of the fabric near your waist and holding the front part of your dress up, pinning the bunched up skirt at your abdomen. As if he wanted to–
Your entire face burned when you realised just how close and intimate this was.
“I bought this dress. I’ll ruin it if I want to.” He spoke in that arrogant tone you weren’t sure you entirely hated at this moment. “You’re lucky I’m not tearing it off of you.”
“And you’re lucky I’m not–,”
He cut you off by leaning in and kissing your inner thigh. Just like that. As if you weren’t on the verge of arguing just now. You were still processing that soft kiss he left on your thigh, and he was already moving to spread your legs apart as he slowly looked up, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop or push him away.
You didn’t.
His eyes remained focused on your face as his hand reached out and he ran his metal knuckles between your legs, along your wet folds through your thin underwear, making you shudder at his mere touch. You flinched at the cold, but didn’t pull away.
“You’re dripping.” He commented, slowly sliding down your underwear. “Does arguing with me turn you on, baby? Is that why you do it all the time?” He smirked, finally throwing your underwear to the side.
You glared at him, opening your mouth to argue yet again but you ended up just letting out a soft moan as you felt his metal fingertips gently trail up and down your legs. He chuckled at how sensitive and responsive you were. Bucky placed a kiss on your inner thigh again and you gasped.
“Looks like you haven’t been taken care of in a while.” He said, moving his fingers over your clit, circling it slowly. “Have you?” He sounded like he was accusing you.
“No.” You hissed, angry at how much you didn’t mind his touch. “You barged in and married me before I could go out and find someone who might–,”
“I tolerate you talking to and about Sam because he’s our friend.” He cut you off. “But if I hear you talking about any other man, I promise I will be committing unnecessary crimes and it’ll all be on you.” He paused, glaring at you. “You hear me?”
You nodded. Fuck he looked good from up here.
He held your stare as he leaned in and placed his mouth to your core, giving your clit a firm such before his warm tongue slipped past your folds and teased your dripping hole. One hand holding part of your dress up while the metal one worked in tandem with his tongue, circling your throbbing clit and parting your wet folds with ease.
“Should’ve known you’d taste like fucking heaven,” He whispered, almost to himself.
You couldn’t hold the moans and whimpers in, feeling his stubble rubbing against your soft skin, craving more of it. You couldn’t help but slide hesitant fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. “Please, more…” You whined.
That made him wild. And he ate you out relentlessly, taking his time and learning what worked for you and what didn’t, until your legs were shaking and your moans were louder.
He slid his fingers, just a knuckle deep inside you and watched how much you loved that. “That feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”
You only whimpered in response.
When he was certain you were right on the edge, hips moving in a frantic way which made you grind against his fingers and tongue, only then did he pull away and let go of your dress before standing back up to face you with a condescending smirk.
“You think it’s that easy?” He spoke, but you focused more on the wetness coating his lips rather than his words.
You blinked a couple of times to break out of whatever spell he’d just put you under using that damned mouth and fingers of his. He’d… he’d dared bring you right to the edge. But hadn’t let you come.
You were breathing heavily, feeling hot and tingly all over.
He chuckled, enjoying the speechlessness which was rare when it came to you. “If you want more, then behave tonight. Be good and tell everyone how in love we are and all the nice things, and I promise I’ll take care of you later tonight. Okay?“
You knew what he was doing. He wanted you to tell as many people as possible because the more people knew, the harder it would be for you to sneak out of this place again.
He didn’t even wait for a response. He just licked his lips clean, shamelessly holding your stare while he did. Then turned to the mirror and fixed his suit before bending down to pick up your discarded underwear. You looked away, embarrassed but waiting for him to hand it to you.
Except he didn’t. He pocketed it like it was nothing and said, “Come on, our guests are waiting.” Then he walked out of the room like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t made you almost lose your mind just minutes ago. Like he didn’t have his tongue and fingers inside you. Like he hadn’t gotten so close to making you come.
Like your heart wasn’t still racing even after he’d left the room.
Eventually, you calmed down. Fixed your makeup, hair and dress again before heading towards the temporary, clear outdoor party tent Sam had people install in Bucky’s huge backyard. The closer you got, the more it looked straight out of a fairytale. Given the clear walls, you could see the golden lights and decor inside.
The chandeliers, the floral arrangements, the tables and the dance floor where people danced with their partners.
Speaking of partners, there by the entrance stood a tall, dark figure. Your husband.
“Took you a while.” He muttered once you got close enough to him.
You stopped by his side and sighed. Then answered in a monotone voice, trying to hide how bothered you were. “Well, some conceited asshole left me to deal with a mess he made so there’s that.”
Bucky snickered. “Don’t act so indifferent. You were dripping all over my tongue and hand just minutes ago.”
“Keep your voice down.” You hissed.
“Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not taboo for a husband to take care of his wife, you know?” He sounded just as annoying as you expected he would.
You looked down and noticed he had his elbow extended out for you to take. You took it and spoke once you two began walking into the venue. “If you think you are getting anywhere near me to take care of me again, husband, you are dead fucking wrong.” You put a fake smile on as people began noticing your arrival and flocked to you.
Bucky whispered one last thing into your ear before he left you in the care of the excited, curious, and loud group of ladies coming your way, “Oh you’ll beg me to touch you soon enough, wife.”
Then he was gone again. Leaving you right on that edge again.
Damn him!
—
You had to give it to Sam, he knew how to organise a party. The decor, the food, the music, the performances, all of it was perfect.
He even re-introduced to all the people you might have forgotten while you were gone. And naturally everyone had questions. You repeated the same answers to them all. The same lies.
Where were you this whole time? You wanted to do your own thing, and make your own name so you decided to get away from home.
Why did you leave right after it was announced that you were to marry Bucky Barnes? Oh your father never said when you were to marry him. He just said you would. Besides, both you and Bucky were too young to marry back then.
Did Bucky know you were going to be gone? Of course he did! You two were childhood sweethearts after all. Yes, you did keep in touch this whole time and only fell more and more in love. Yes, distance does make the heart grow fonder and all.
Why did the wedding happen so suddenly and in secret? After almost a decade of being far apart from each other, you two could no longer wait anymore. So you eloped the day you came back.
There are rumours that your father and Bucky have some kind of tension going on between them, is any of it true? That was the one question you didn’t feel too confident about. Because your father never ended up telling you why that was. How did the rivalry start? You lied and said, it’s just because you eloped. Your father wanted to be involved but you were too in love to think straight. So now your father was giving your poor husband a hard time for stealing his little girl.
As you paraded around and met everyone, you could feel Bucky’s eyes on you at all times. You didn’t have to look to know. You could feel the burning sensation along your back and you just knew he was watching you.
And he watched all night. Up until the moment people began leaving and you had no choice but to find him again, not knowing what else to do.
“You lie very well.” He commented, holding his elbow out for you to take again.
You did. And also leaned into him a little because you had been standing for too many hours. You decided to ignore the hostility for just a minute. “Yes, I’m a natural.”
“Everyone bought your bullshit about how we are childhood sweethearts turned lovers.” He whispered, turning his head to face you.
“Well, you did say to make it believable.”
“Oh it is.” He boasted, “Especially since you’ve been looking at me like that the whole night.”
You rolled your eyes, “How?”
“With longing, and desire. You’re all hot and bothered. You crave my tongue back on that throbbing little clit, don’t you?”
“You’re delusional, Barnes.”
“And you’re dripping wet for me, Mrs. Barnes.”
—
The party ended, and after Sam left you and Bucky made your way back inside the house. Sam, being the angel that he was, had made sure a clean up crew would be here early the next morning so you had nothing to worry about.
Not that it should bother you whether or not Bucky’s house is tidy.
You had a faint smile on your face as you went about your nighttime routine. Shower, skin care, a quick snack in the kitchen. And while you were downstairs, searching the pantry for something sweet, you saw Bucky near the thermostat.
The pantry hid you well, so Bucky didn’t see you. But you watched him mess with the temperature. You squinted and realised he was lowering it. The damned bastard was making it colder! No wonder you were freezing each night and woke up each morning snuggled up to him, basking in his warmth.
This asshole.
You remained in hiding until Bucky left, and this time as you made your way upstairs you vowed you wouldn’t reach for his warmth. No matter how cold it got. And he wouldn’t get to use you as a personal heated blanket either. Let him freeze.
You barely lasted thirty minutes under the covers.
And he was quiet and didn’t move so you thought he was asleep already as you carefully scooted a little bit closer, trying to feel where he was in the dark. If only this bed wasn’t so damn big. You patted around, trying not to move to much as you–
“I can hear you, you know? If you want to cuddle, just say it.”
You stopped moving immediately. “Shut up.” You muttered, frowning at him even though he couldn’t see it. You could see his faint silhouette in the dark, so you knew when he turned on his side to face you.
“What is it, wife? You need some warmth on this cold, cold night?” He asked in that mocking tone of his.
“No.” You answered, lying. Because yes you did.
He muttered ‘stubborn brat’ under his breath and then grabbed you and pulled you close until your back was completely pressed against his chest. His warm, comfy chest. You bit back a sigh of relief once you felt his body heating wrapping you in a cocoon.
“I saw you messing with the thermostat.” You admitted.
“Oh?”
“Yes. You make it cold on purpose.”
“Oh no.” He mocked. “ Why didn’t you fix it then?” He asked, and it hit you how childish this was. He leaned in just enough so that his lips brushed against your cheek when he spoke. “Could it be that you like cuddling with me?”
“Shut up.”
He scoffed, finally wrapping his arms around you, but you hissed upon feeling his metal arm on your body.
“It’s cold.”
“Warm it up for me then.”
“What–”
You stopped talking the moment Bucky grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on top of his, spreading your legs to make room for his hand as you both remained on your sides, with him spooning you from behind.
His metal hand found itself sliding into your shorts, past your underwear and he cupped you with such confidence and authority that you couldn’t help leaning into and grinding into his touch. His other hand slid under your pillow and down so he could grab and give your breast a firm squeeze.
Fuck. His hands felt like they were touching you everywhere.
“I told you I’d take care of you if you behaved.” He whispered into your ear. “Time for a little reward, wife.”
He slid two fingers inside you, you gasped at the feeling of him being knuckles deep inside you. You whined as he stretched you a little, moving his fingers around until your hips were moving on their own, trying to get him to move some more.
He chuckled. “That feels good?” He murmured into your ear.
His voice, his warmth, the softness of his embrace, the unhurried way his fingers were moving in and out of you, sliding over your clit and stroking your walls like he had all the time in the world.
Your hands wrapped around his metal wrist, keeping his hand in place as you rode his fingers the way you wanted. Hips moving forward and causing his fingers to slide in and out, while you moaned and whimpered.
His lips brushed against your cheek over and over again as he whispered against your skin, “See how nice it is when you behave? Hmm? You can have me whenever you want, baby. Just be good for me, and I’ll do anything for you.”
The animosity between you was forgotten at this moment. Here, in this dark room the past didn’t matter for a few minutes. Nothing mattered, just that you wanted something and he was giving it to you.
His thumb caressed your clit, teasing it a little more until you cried out, “Bucky, please…”
He froze. You did too. Then he chuckled and said, “So all is takes is a little finger fucking and now you have manners and you call me by my name?” He sounded just as annoyingly playful as you knew he would.
“Oh fuck you!” You spat, then immediately let out a loud moan as he sped up and really fucked you with his fingers until you were a whimpering mess. “Please, please, please…”
“What did I say, huh?” He hissed. “Keep acting like a fucking brat and you’ll be treated like one.” He kept his fingers moving in and out of you. “I planned on really taking care of you tonight, but you know what? This is all you’re gonna get.”
Your moans and whimpers got louder and louder until you began clenching around his fingers, coming undone with a loud cry of his name. Body shaking and your hips grinding down on his hand as you savoured the last moments of your orgasm before he pulled out and pulled away from you.
You thought he’d go right back to sleep but then you felt him get out of bed. “Where are you–,”
“I’ll fix the temperature.” He mumbled, sounding annoyed. Rightfully so. “Go to sleep.”
And that was the last you heard or saw of him until the morning because you passed out right after. You didn’t even know if he returned to bed or not. Not that you cared much.
Right?
—
Things changed after that night.
A lot changed actually. Bucky had, miraculously, managed to uproot ten years of your life from elsewhere and planted it right here in the city. He took you to the building he’d been getting ready for you and it sure was something. You didn’t know what you expected but a brand new skyscraper was not what you had in mind.
The day he handed over papers and keys and gave you a tour of the huge building was the first time you felt a shift in this… bond you shared with him.
“Thank you.” You simply said as you both stepped into the shiny elevator so he could take you all the up to the top floor, to show you to your new office.
Bucky slid his hands in his pockets and turned to face you. “You think being nice equals sexual favours from me, wife?”
You could’ve told him to shut it. Or told him to go get fucked. But he was trying to be good to you, wasn’t he? Even after all he did, he wanted you next to him for some unknown reason and frankly you were tired of resisting. Your entire life was here now anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to… try. Would it?
So instead you answered with, “Doesn’t it?”
Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, searching for the catch. He didn’t find any so he said, “We’ll see about that.”
And that night he followed you into the shower and kissed you hard under the falling water. “I see you behaved yourself today.” He whispered against your mouth.
You pulled him closer by grabbing his neck and said, “Do I get a reward then?”
He didn’t say anything, just kissed you hard again and walked the two of you backwards until your back collided with the cold clear glass of the shower cubicle. Then he pulled away, looked down into your eyes. His own filled with lust and hunger as he asked, “You’re gonna let me fuck you?”
You nodded quickly before saying, “Yes. Please.”
He didn’t waste a single moment. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it to his hip, spreading you open. He kissed you senseless again while he pushed inside of you. You moaned into the kiss as he filled you up, his cock stretching you out, making you whine and whimper as he slow fucked you.
“Fuck…” He breathily moaned against your open mouth while he moved against you. Pushing deeper, in and out of you until your moans and whimpers got louder and louder. The sound of the water falling from the shower drowned out most of it, so he fucked you until you moaned loud enough that he could hear you over the falling water.
“Please,” You cried out. Weeks of frustration wanting to be let out. “Please, Buck…” Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, and you held on while he fucked you.
Bucky almost froze again at the sound of his nickname falling from your lips. But he maintained his composure and sped up into you, feeling your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock.
“You’ve been good today,” He said, noticing the way you clenched around him hard at the sound of praise. “You didn’t talk back, not once. Is it because you wanted this cock, baby?”
You whined in response. Feeling his damp skin rubbing against yours, and for a brief moment you wanted to live in this moment forever.
“Oh, poor baby.” He gave you a messy, heated kiss then said, “It’s all yours, you know? You just have to ask nicely. And you can have it whenever you want.”
“Please…” You begged again, your pride nowhere in sight. “Please, Bucky.”
“Come for me, baby…” He breathed against your skin. His hands held you in place as he pounded into you. “Come for me.”
You did, moaning so loud it was all he heard as he came right after you.
—
It became a daily thing over the next few weeks. You’d seek Bucky out at random times during the day or more often right when he’d get into bed at night.
“Were you good today, wife?” He asked, his hands already moving all over you trying to undress you as fast as he could.
“Yes,” You breathed into his ear, your hands touching him all over his tattooed chest. “I even made you breakfast, remember?”
“Those burnt pancakes count?”
You shut him up by kissing him, pulling him down onto the bed and straddling him, then proceeded to ride him until you were both moaning and spent, too tired to move.
—
Things got… playful.
Oftentimes you’d catch yourself wondering why you weren’t actively working to get out of here. But your whole life was here now. Work, your family, and your husband. You didn’t hate Bucky as much as you thought you would. Just a few months ago you wanted to kill him on sight but now…
“I saw the new building you work at. He bought you that?” Your father asked one morning when you went over to join him for breakfast.
You cleared your throat and answered, “He did. He moved everything here. My businesses, my staff, all of it.”
“And the girls?” He asked, referring to the infamous, feared, and fierce army you had raised and trained over the last ten years.
“My girls are free to go wherever they want to.” You let pride fill you as you thought of them. “Besides, they don’t have to be here for me to know I can always count on them. They’re just a phone call away.” You explained. “Plus they have work to do. People to save, women to recruit. You know, the usual.”
“I’m proud of you, you know?”
You smiled at your father. Then a few moments passed and you couldn’t help but ask, “What happened after I left? Where is the rest of Bucky’s family?”
Your father looked surprised. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
Your father shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. They’re all gone anyway. Plus the boy, he… he treats you right, doesn’t he?”
You nodded. Then left it at that. You wanted a peaceful morning with your father, you didn’t want to ruin it by insisting he tell you about whatever it was that he wanted to keep in the past.
—
But it bothered you, knowing that something happened while you were gone that you knew nothing about and everyone refused to tell you about it.
All except one man. Your beloved friend, Sam.
He showed up one morning, demanding to see Bucky.
“He said he has an important phone call to attend to. With someone named Steve. He’s been outside for over an hour now,” You explained to Sam, who stood at the foyer looking disappointed, “It looks like he’ll be out for quite some time.”
Sam frowned, and sighed. “He said to come over for a round of golf.” He sounded like he’d been betrayed. “Ever since he started doing business and being friendly with that Steve guy,” Sam complained, “That bitch has been trying to steal my best friend.”
You chuckled and grabbed his hand to lead him further into the house. “I’m sorry my husband ruined your playdate, Sammy. But you can hang out with me.”
Sam reluctantly agreed only after you promised to make him blueberry muffins. He liked those ever since you were kids.
He agreed to help, and you both had a nice, comfortable conversation going while you worked. You caught yourself shaking your head a few times thinking about how just a few months ago if someone had told you you’d be in Bucky’s kitchen making muffins you wouldn’t believe it.
But here you were now.
Then Sam casually said, “I’m glad you two worked it out, you know? You’re so perfect for each other. Even back when we were kids, remember how everyone used to tease you two and say you would surely marry one another?” He laughed. “I mean after he told me all about how you heard him on the phone with me by the pool, I was worried you might never clear up the misunderstanding.” He chuckled, keeping his eyes down as he lined the muffin tin so didn’t see the way you froze. Sam continued, “I thought that’s why you left when I heard about your sudden disappearance. But–”
You cut him off, heart racing as memories of that night came flooding back in. “Sam… what do you mean on the phone with you?”
Sam looked up, frowning. “That night of your twentieth birthday. Remember how you found Bucky by the pool? He was on the phone with me that night. He was so angry when he told me what his family was planning to do to yours, how they were going to–,” Sam cut himself off as the realisation set in. “Did he not tell you the truth?”
Your heart pounded. Something was wrong.
“Tell me what truth?”
Sam’s eyes softened. “Oh, I shouldn’t be the one to–,”
“Sammy, please.” You begged in a whisper. “Even my father refuses to tell me anything. I have the right to know. What happened?”
Sam tried his hardest to make sense as he told you everything in a rush. “Look, something went wrong back then. Bucky’s family began siding with the rivals and they were trying to take your father down. They tricked your dad into thinking that getting you and Bucky married would be a good idea and well, your father chose to believe his friends so he made that announcement at the party.” Sam sighed, “But Bucky’s family were planning something really bad. They were going to use the wedding as an excuse to gather all your family in one place and… end all of you. Just so they’d be able to expand their territory. Bucky found out about this plan and he was pissed. So that night, he called me. To vent.”
You felt your eyes begin to water.
Sam continued. “But then you found him. I remember him whispering to me that you were doing a terrible job at hiding behind a plant or some shit. Then your huge gown gave away your hiding spot. But given you were listening, Bucky decided he’d get you annoyed enough to have you at least try to call off the wedding which would buy us some time to figure out what to do. That’s when he began saying those things about you. Trying his hardest to sound like he truly did not want to marry you.” Sam sighed, “I mean there might have been a better way of doing it rather than fake dialogues on a phone call, but we were twenty year old boys. We didn’t know better. We didn’t know you’d write that note and just disappear.”
What the actual fuck.
“Sam…” You whispered in disbelief.
He shook his head. “Please tell me you didn’t truly believe all that. He lied when he said those things that night, you know? Bucky liked you ever since we were kids. You don't remember how he used to get mad at me whenever I was around you for too long? How he always ignored your hiding spots when we played just so you’d win at hide-and-seek? You don’t remember how he used to bully your stupid boyfriends as we got a older?”
You couldn’t believe any of this. But Sam would never lie to you.
“Wait,” Sam put the pieces together. “So you didn’t know about any of this?”
You closed your eyes and sighed, “I didn’t. I heard all the things he said that night and… I had spent my entire life loving him and I thought…” You sighed. “I was young and stupid and heartbroken so I just left.” Then you explained. “I got back recently, Bucky made this whole show of raining down bullets at my father’s house and, well, we kinda got married that same day, in my father’s destroyed foyer.”
“You didn’t talk to each other this whole time?” Sam was in disbelief. “Oh for fuck’s sake. And I thought Bucky just never mentioned you while you’ve been gone because… well, he’s not exactly good at the whole heart to heart thing. He’s Bucky.”
Your surprise morphed into anger really quickly. “I need to find my husband.” You said, quickly walking out of the kitchen.
Sam yelled behind you, “I'm gonna take this muffin batter and go before he shoots me after he finds out I told you all this!”
You just yelled back, “Bye Sammy, I love you”
Sam’s voice sounded distant as he yelled back, “Don’t let him hear you!”
You ran out to the back, where Bucky said he would be. And you found him by the pool. Again. The sight of him standing there gave you déjà-vu. Except he wasn’t your twenty-year old crush, in a black suit, arguing with who turned out to be Sam, on the night of your birthday anymore.
He was older now, your husband, wearing dark trousers and a loose white-button up shirt, standing by the pool with the sun setting behind him. You stood on the patio, for a second more, admiring him. The metal hand casually shoved in his pocket and his heavily tattooed arm held a phone to his ear.
You called out, no longer containing your anger. “You absolute piece of shit!”
Bucky looked towards you and just frowned, before rolling his eyes. Then said on the phone, “Hang on a minute, Steve. My wife’s angry at me again.” He lowered the phone to his chest and whispered to you, “What is it this time?”
“How long were you going to keep the truth from me?” You accused him. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
He raised the phone to his ear again and said, “I’ll call you later Steve, something came up.” Then he hung up, tossed his phone onto one of the lounge chairs before turning to face you again. “Don’t get mad–”
“Stop telling me what to do!”
He sighed. “Did Sam tell you anything? I saw his car coming in earlier.”
You hissed, “Oh leave him alone! He’s a good man who doesn’t lie to me!”
Bucky shook his head, understanding that you knew all about what he’d been hiding, and too calmly said, “They were gonna kill you. All of you. Not just your family members, but the guards, the family friends, the members of your family who aren’t even in this life – all of you. I had to do something. My folks were wrong, I couldn’t let innocent people die just because my family got too power hungry.”
You took a step forward, “Why didn’t you tell me before I left? I would’ve talked to someone.”
“We barely even talked to each other as we got older. I thought you wouldn’t believe me.”
“But you could’ve at least tried to say something!”
He was quiet for a moment. Then said, “I came to see you the next day.” He confessed. “The morning after the party. But your father had found your note and you’d already left. You never mentioned exactly why you left in the note, so I let him think it was because of me.” He explained, “Since there would be no wedding I didn’t have to worry anymore. But the threat remained. So I goaded your father into a fight. He took the bait and tried to shoot at me. He missed, of course. But enough people heard about it so he ended up declaring war against my family.”
He paused. You listened quietly.
“No one knew it was all because of me. But at least from then on, your father was more cautious. And he began hating my folks. And they couldn’t keep pretending to be his friend for much longer either. All the truth began spilling out. Soon the city was divided and the attacks began. Allies became enemies, just like that.”
You were quiet. Processing everything. All of that shit happened and you were not aware.
For some reason, you asked, “During those attacks… Is that when you lost your arm?”
You only realised you’d been stepping closer and closer to him when he raised said metal arm and touched your cheek gently. He smiled and said, “No, baby. That was a different time.”
You had a tear sliding down your face. He wiped it away. “What happened then?” You asked.
“My folks didn’t stand a chance. Your father was not only angry and betrayed, but he was also sad that he lost you because of them, or me.” Bucky explained. “It got… really bad. Your father lost a lot of his guys. Then he got angrier. So he stopped responding to the petty attacks and came after my folks directly.”
“He killed them?” They were his friends once.
Bucky said, “He still doesn’t know I helped him all the way until the end.”
“But he spared you.”
Bucky smirked. “He just could never catch me.”
“But your family…” Bucky went against his own you realised.
“They were bad people. Not just because of what they planned to do to you but…” He sighed. “They were doing bad things in the background. Dealing in substances, and people.” He spared you the gory details.
But you understood.
“Why didn’t you tell me all this that day we got married?”
“You wouldn’t have believed me. You had just spent ten years hating me.” He shrugged. “But hey, it kept you safe.”
You stepped closer to him, feeling tired with all that you felt inside you. “So you never meant the things you said that night?”
Bucky pulled you close, cupping your face in his hands. “I have loved you my entire life. I never stopped.”
You sniffled, looking up into his pretty eyes. “We lost so much time. I spent years hating you for nothing.” It hurt thinking about it.
He smiled at you, “I should’ve thought it through better. But I was young and rash, and my family threatened to kill the girl I loved. I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you away.” He sighed. “I just didn’t think I was going to lose you for almost a decade. I was always aware of where you were and what you did in life in those years. I was so proud of everything you did, the name you made for yourself. But I couldn’t reach you. You were angry and you hated me. So I waited. And then you came back and… I needed you with me. I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait any longer.”
You wrapped your arms around him, shoving your face into the crook of his neck as you let the tears fall quietly.
“Shh,” He whispered, running a comforting hand down your back. “It’s okay now, I’m here. We’re okay.”
“I’ve been mean to you.” You whispered. “I’m sorry.”
He chuckled quietly, “And I shot at your father’s house. We’re equal.”
“I… I love you too, you know?” You sniffled.
Bucky pulled away so he could look down at your teary face. “Sorry to say this, wife, but this isn’t half as romantic as the first time you told me you loved me.”
You frowned. “What?” Did you talk in your sleep? Oh no. Did you? “When did I say it?”
“We were seven, playing in the hedge maze in your father’s backyard.” He smiled, thinking about that day. “He had just had a new water fountain placed in there, and you wanted to show it to me. You must have thought it was pretty and that I needed to see it too. Then you dragged me all the way there and told me you loved me.” He smirked, “Seven-year old you would be disappointed in you right now.”
A chuckle escaped your lips at the faded memory. “I wish we could go back in time.”
“Well, we can’t. But we can have the rest of our lives together.”
You sniffled again, wiped your tears. Then nodded, and leaned in for a kiss. Deepening it the moment he kissed you back. Your fingers found their way into his longish hair and you gently tugged at his roots.
He smiled into the kiss when you whispered against his lips, “I like you with long hair.”
“I see you’re being nice again,” He murmured in between kisses, “Does my wife need something?”
You giggled this time. “I want you, Buck. Just you.”
“You have me.” He said. “Always.”
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Can you do a toxic! Slyhterin boys where they found out y/n is actually pregnant? Cause let’s be honest, they wouldn’t be happy and sweet about getting their girlfriend pregnant
Slytherin Boys – Reacting to you getting pregnant
Warning: Toxic boys, mentions and talks of abortion, toxic relationships etc., not proofread (cause I'm lazy)
A/N: Thank you for the request! I totally agree with the idea that they wouldn't be happy at all!
Hope you'll like it!
Mattheo …
… glares down at your trembling hand holding the offending pregnancy test, his nose pulled up in disgust.
… suddenly views you as this stupid person that is unable to use birth control. If you aren’t on birth control and only use condoms, he’d still think you were the cause for this mess. Did you poke holes into the condoms? Did you want to get pregnant and trap him?
… would be so turned off by the idea of having a child at that age, that he’d project all that frustration and negativity on you – he’d start detesting you. Gone is the obsession he had felt for you and replaced by pure annoyance.
… stared at you coldly as he told you he didn’t want to see you anymore – that he didn’t want to be involved with anything regarding the child – his child.
Theodore …
… stares at his phone dumbly – his mind completely blank as he assessed the situation. Well, fuck.
… immediately blocks you – a poor attempt to push you and his new problem out of his life.
… desperately hopes you don’t try to confront him – he’s an asshole but he doesn’t want to be cruel to your face, duh. But obviously, you did confront him.
… rolls his eyes when you start crying in front of him, obviously scared and overwhelmed by the situation and his apathy.
… rudely interrupts you and tells you to fuck off – that he cannot have a child yet. If you refuse to just leave, he’ll obliviate himself out of your life. Problem solved, right?
Lorenzo …
… would get angry. Not at himself – no, he’d be mad at you. How could you destroy such a beautiful relationship?
… is desperate – he loves you but the thought of having a child make his balls shrink.
… would force you to make a choice: Him or the child. If you want to keep the child, he’ll break up with you – which further angers him, because he still wants you but if you decide to terminate he’d be back to being his usual loving and obsessed self.
Draco …
… enters panic mode. He knows his parents and he knows the chaos that would ensue of they found out, so he begged you to terminate. If you refuse to, he’ll try to gaslight and manipulate you into doing it.
… will hold a grudge if you do not terminate and his parents find out, which would result in you two having to get married.
… would be kind of put off by the thought of you carrying and growing a child and distance himself from you.
… would definitely cheat to satiate his desires and needs because his feelings for you were clouded by hatred.
Blaise …
… laughs in your face when you tell him. He thinks it is a joke. When he takes in the state you are in it quickly dawns on him that you aren’t joking after all.
… groans loudly as a string of profanities leaves his lips – why did everything have to be so complicated?
… suddenly accuses you of cheating on him because no way in hell could he have gotten you pregnant. He’d try to talk his way out of it – spewing lies about his fertility and turning the situation in a way that makes him look like the victim.
… tells you to leave and accuses you of being a filthy cheater.
Tom …
… will demand, no, force you to terminate – because he would not allow any mistakes. He doesn’t want to be a father – especially not out of wedlock.
… doesn’t give you a choice – because you can’t be trusted. He’ll help you through the procedure and ensures that you actually go through with it.
… he’ll not break up with you though but will put you on birth control and watch you take the pills every. Single. Day.
… does not show any remorse or empathy, because he simply cannot understand why you’d be this devastated. If he has to, he’ll obliviate you and make you forget about the whole incident.
#slytherin boys#toxic slytherin boys#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys headcanons#slytherin#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott imagine#theo nott x reader#draco imagine#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#lorenzo berkshire imagine#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire#blaise zabini#blaise zabini x reader#mattheo x you#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#yandere tom riddle
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hope you don't mind me asking but could reader adopt harris officially? it'd be a sweet little blurb ☺️
Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Summary: Harris makes a special request on his birthday: for you to adopt him and officially be his mommy.
TW: mention of parental neglect/drug use, pretty much just all fluff and happiness
WC: 2.2k
A/N: Happy Mother's Day to all of the moms out there! Y'all are badasses who deserve to be celebrated. I used this video for the judge's dialogue to ensure accuracy.
February 2001
“So, Har,” Eddie starts through a mouthful of cake, “did you have a good birthday?”
Harris nods emphatically, digging into his own slice. A dollop of vanilla frosting dots the tip of his nose, but he continues eating, unbothered.
Eddie looks at you as you try to contain the inevitable mess that Hendrix will make. His chubby cheeks are already decorated with chocolate cake, and he’s only a few bites in. “Can you believe we have a nine-year-old now?”
You shake your head. The years truly have flown by, and though you haven’t had the privilege of being there for all of them, it feels as though Harris’s fifth birthday was only yesterday.
“What’s crazy to me is that Harris is the same age you were when I took you in,” Wayne says to Eddie. He glances at his nephew, a wistful look in his old eyes.
“Oh, yeah!” Harris grins. “I forgot you took care of Daddy.”
Eddie leans back in his seat and smirks. “Did you ever regret adopting me, Old Man?”
“Every damn day.”
While he may have tuned out his dad and grandfather’s back-and-forth, you can see Harris pause before he continues eating. He’s never been one to stifle his curiosity, the wheels in his head turning as he processes the information.
His time to ask a question grinds to a halt when Hendrix slams his little palm right into the cake slice, grabs a chunk of it, and smashes it into his face. If any actually got in his mouth, it would be a miracle.
Harris gets his opportunity later that night. Eddie tucks him into bed, pulling the SpongeBob comforter up to his chin, and kisses his head.
“Daddy?” Harris asks before Eddie can stand up.
“Hmm?”
“Why did Grampa adopt you?”
Eddie exhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek. As his eldest son has gotten older, he’s become more honest with him, not constantly shielding him from painful truths. He chooses his words carefully before speaking again.
“Well, my mom and dad weren’t good parents. They didn’t take care of me, and they made a lot of bad choices,” he says. Memories flash through his mind, ones of eviction notices and strangers constantly in his home. Ones of police officers snapping handcuffs on his parents’ wrists, the two of them too far gone to even register to the severity of the situation. He shakes it off, turning his attention back to Harris. “And so Grampa Wayne took me in and adopted me so I would have a safe, happy home.”
“Like how my mom made bad choices? My real mom?”
Eddie nods, wondering if Harris knows how closely their situations resembled each other. Except you did what your father didn’t–you changed, he reminds himself.
“Yeah, like that.”
Harris thinks for a moment. “But now Mom is my mom. So does that mean she adopted me?”
“No, she didn’t adopt you.” His heart sinks when he sees the small pout forming on Harris’s lips. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Why not?”
Eddie scratches at his jawline, his nails digging into a particular itchy patch of stubble. “Well, honestly…we wanted to make sure it was what you wanted, Har. Because Mom will love you no matter what,” he makes sure to add.
Without any hesitation, Harris declares, “It’s what I want.”
“Are you sure? You can sleep on it—” Eddie feels a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth despite his attempt to remain neutral. Yes, his son often acts on impulse, but Eddie can tell this isn’t one of those instances.
Harris huffs out an impatient sigh, irritated that he even has to explain himself. “Dad, I’m nine now,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’m almost double-digits. And I know I want Mom to adopt me.”
Eddie grins wider, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. “All right, bud. You got it.” He stands up with a grunt, something that Harris has already dubbed an ‘old man noise.’ “We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, okay?”
“Mm-hm,” Harris agrees sleepily, cocooning himself in his blankets while Eddie turns out the light.
Eddie is teeming with excitement when he sees you sitting in the family room, an open bag of sour cream and onion potato chips in your lap. Hendrix was fast asleep in his crib, and it was finally time for you and your husband to relax.
“So,” Eddie says, sliding onto the couch cushion next to you and plucking a chip from the bag, “it turns out that the birthday boy has one more gift request. A big one, actually.”
You raise your brows. “How big? Like, Hot Wheels track big or space camp big?”
“Neither.” Eddie’s eyes gleam. “He wants you to adopt him.”
You sit up quickly, a smile stretching across your face. “Are you…are you serious?”
“One hundred percent.” Eddie says with a nod. “He insisted on it, actually. I don’t think you could say no even if you wanted to.”
His teasing would normally draw a snarky retort from you, but you’re too overwhelmed to come up with a quip. “Harris wants me to adopt him,” you say slowly, letting each word seep into your tongue.
Eddie kisses your cheek, his nose brushing your warm skin. “This is everything I ever wanted for him, you know,” he murmurs. Another kiss, then he tilts your chin so he can place his lips on yours. “Thank you for loving him.”
You snuggle in closer, your head resting on his shoulder. “Thank you for letting me.”
September 2002
It’s a special occasion when you can convince Eddie and Wayne Munson to wear a suit and tie, but you didn’t even have to ask today. Both men are dressed with their shirts tucked into their slacks—not jeans.
You smooth out a pleat in your dress, scoop Hendrix out of his Pack-N-Play, and grin at your family.
“You guys ready?” You ask, desperate to get everyone into the car before someone spills something on their clothes. While Harris and Hendrix would be the most obvious culprits of a mess, the men are just as capable of causing chaos.
Eddie slings Hendrix’s diaper bag over his shoulder and takes Harris’s hand in his. “Let’s ship out, team.”
“Ship out!” Hendrix echoes–loudly, right in your ear. You wince, but you can’t stay annoyed for too long, considering how happy you are. How happy everyone is; even the baby of the family, who doesn’t know why he’s in a good mood, just that he is.
Everyone piles into the sedan: Eddie in the driver’s seat, you in the passenger seat, and Wayne squished between his grandsons in the back.
“Don’t know how I ended up here,” Wayne grumbles, reaching behind for his seatbelt.
Eddie grabs your hand as he pulls onto the road, giving it a tender squeeze. This is a huge deal; logically, you know this. To Eddie, he’s officially giving his son the mother he always deserved, and you’ll be able to make all sorts of important decisions for Harris. But to you, there is no piece of paper that can strengthen or weaken your love for your oldest son. Still, this is a promise from you to Harris, one that you will never break.
The courthouse’s silence is promptly broken with the Munsons’ arrival, as your family’s presence tends to do. Hendrix enjoys the way his delighted shrieks reverberate down the empty hallway, and Harris grips a nearby bench to jump out his nervous energy.
“Har?” you call out, waving him over to a private spot. He stops jumping long enough to follow you, shaking his hands excitedly.
You crouch down to his height and dig through your purse until you find what you’re looking for: a shiny silver compass with a quote engraved on the back:
“If you don’t get lost, there’s a chance you may never be found.”
“Uncle Dusty recommended his favorite compass, and he said you can bring it on your next camping trip” you say with a smile, your lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “I hope that every time you use it, you remember that I’ll always be here to help you find your way.”
Harris looks from you to the compass and back again. He grins and flings his arms around you, nearly knocking you over in the process.
“This is so cool!” He cheers. “I’m gonna show everyone!”
“What do you say?” Eddie reminds him, a twinkle in his eye.
Harris barely turns around to you to yell, “Thanks, Mom!”
Mom. That title never gets old, and you don’t think it ever will.
“Munson?” You jump slightly when a bailiff announces that it’s your turn to see the judge. He gives a small smile as you enter the courtroom, probably relieved that this is a joyful occasion that won’t likely require his intervention.
This is it, you think. You wish your dress had pockets to hide your trembling hands.
Everyone takes their positions. Harris stands between you and Eddie, and Wayne holds Hendrix at the end, ready to make a quick getaway in case the youngest Munson decides to throw a tantrum.
The judge addresses you directly. Her tone is firm but warm as she says, “Do you understand that if your petition for the adoption of Harris Wayne Munson is granted, you will be legally responsible for him?”
“Yes.” You feel Harris’s palm slide against yours; when you briefly look down, you see that his other hand is holding Eddie’s.
“And do you understand that this support includes food, clothing, shelter, as well as medical and educational support?” She continues.
You nod. “Yes.”
“And do you understand that if your request is granted, that you will be Harris’s parent in all respects, just as if he had been born to you?”
“Yes.” Your heart swells with love. Just as if he had been born to you. Even with the memorable pains and trials brought on by carrying and delivering Hendrix, you considered Harris just as much your son.
“And do you understand you will be undertaking the intellectual, spiritual, and moral guidance of Harris?”
You can almost hear your husband’s thoughts: Better her than me.
“Yes.”
The judge goes through a few more questions, all regarding your abilities to care for Harris. With each one, you feel Harris’s bouncing get more exuberant; part of you wishes you could join him.
Finally, she declares, “Based upon the reports and recommendations, this court finds that granting this petition is in the best interest of Harris.” She looks directly at Harris as she says, “Congratulations, she’s officially your Mommy.”
A choked sob escapes your throat, and your free hand flies to your mouth. You and Eddie both crouch down to embrace Harris, and you can’t help but notice the tears in your husband’s eyes. Wayne makes his way to you and, as best as he can with Hendrix still in his arms, wraps you in a hug. You think he might be the only adult not crying, but a tell-tale sniffle gives him away.
Hendrix is very confused by the overt display of emotion. The last time Wayne cried was well before the boy was born, back when the Colts won the 1970 Super Bowl against the Cowboys.
“Daddy? Mommy? Grampa?” He asks. “Why you cry?”
“We’re fine, buddy. Just have some big feelings. Happy feelings,” Eddie clarifies, kissing Hendrix on a chubby cheek. He looks at Harris and grins. “How does it feel, Har? Now that Mom adopted you?”
Harris scrunches up his face. “Like the same.”
You laugh and ruffle his hair. It’s not as wild as it was when he was your student, his curls less of a mop. “Good ‘the same’?”
He grins, nodding and hugging you again. “I can’t wait to tell all of my friends, and Uncle Dusty, and Mr. Will…”
Harris continues listing people he’s going to share his news with all the way to the parking lot. Some names you recognize, and others he might as well be making up.
“Wait! I almost forgot!” You reach into your purse and pull out a Ziploc bag containing five Oreos. “Everyone take one, but don’t eat it yet.”
When each person has an Oreo in their hand, you raise your own to eye-level and begin your toast. “To my first son, Harris. Thank you for making me a mommy.”
“To Harris!” Wayne and Eddie chorus, and Hendrix just yells his brother’s name before chowing down on his cookie.
As you all pile back into the car, Eddie takes your hand in his. Chocolate is still tucked into the crevices of his lips.
“To you, Sweetheart. Thank you for being the mommy Harris always wanted. Thank you for making us a family again.”
The kiss tastes of vanilla creme, sugary sweet, and you swear you wouldn’t have broken it if Wayne didn’t clear his throat.
“No need to make a third kid up there,” he mutters under his breath.
Eddie glares at him, hoping Harris didn’t overhear the comment, but you press on. “Shall we celebrate at the diner?”
“Can we share pancakes?” Harris beams.
You crane your neck and look back at him, once again overwhelmed by the amount of love you hold for him–for your son.
“I’d love to.”
--
#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#fanfic#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things#tui
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Do you think that Astarion is actually decently intelligent or do you think he is real good at hiding his own stupidity?
Ohhh this is an interesting question. I have a whole theory on why Astarion seems like a ditz in game.
Astarion was (technically still is) a magistrate. The man is smart. He went to law school, and likely grew up highly educated. He's not stupid. His vocabulary is quite rich, though you can also attribute that to 200 years ago being the last time he had an earnest conversation with another being. The version of common spoken now in Faerûn is a bit duller. Even Wyll and Gale, also two highly educated men, don't speak the way Astarion does. Wyll even mentions at one point how Astarion's choice of words gives away his age (the whole "agog" bit).
However.
Given how smart Astarion is, him playing the helpless fool works in two ways for him: 1) it guarantees protection from others by way of gaining sympathy; and 2) it allows him to get close to potential targets without raising much suspicion. Mind you, those are both things he did (or at least tries to do) to Tav/Durge if you romance him.
HOWEVER.
My theory toward why he seems a bit off in terms of smarts has to do with him being enthralled by Cazador. Cazador keeps the spawn underfed on purpose as a way to make them more submissive and easily controlled. Their minds are clouded constantly by hunger -- only ever getting enough to keep themselves from going feral. Blood could dance under their noses and they'd never be able to touch it, unless Cazador wills it.
Astarion is essentially starved when we first meet him. But not for long, as he quickly takes off into the night to hunt (probably something he did at first just to see if he could and likely out of pure desperation). Once he realizes he can gorge himself on whatever amount of animal blood he can, he graduates to pushing the boundaries of another rule: the blood of thinking creatures. Yet another thing that was banned by Cazador. Astarion comments on how much sharper his mind is after having fed on the PC.
Anyway, my theory is that once Cazador is dealt with and Astarion is free, he slowly begins to regain all his prior memories as well as his intelligence. Everything is just being suppressed. Once Cazador is gone and he's given regular feedings, the man is a menace. A "too smart for his own good" menace.
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The Owl’s Sweet Judgment - Matias
An “If you were lovers” story. As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this
If Prince Matias and I were lovers…
Matias: So this is your home…
After having a fun date with him while he visited Rhodolite, I dragged Prince Matias to my house.
While he was distracted by my room, I locked the door and peeked out the window.
(No one’s following us. That’s good…)
Matias: A woman’s room should smell nice.
……Ahhhh, it’s better than I imagined.
(Just what were you imagining…You know what, let’s not think about that)
Emma: Since you’re here, I’ll go prepare some tea.
Matias: I’ll help.
Emma: No, don’t worry about it. I’m the one who dragged you to my home.
Matias: I see... Then I’ll take you up on the offer.
Even though I was treating him, Prince Matias followed me to the kitchen.
It was like he didn’t even think about making himself at home, and his earnestness had me smiling.
Emma: As you might expect, this is rose tea.
Matias: Rhodolite even uses roses for tea? You’re very consistent.
Emma: We’re the Country of Roses. It’s delicious.
(I’ve never seen it in Achroite so I’m sure this is the first time Prince Matias has been offered this drink)
After retrieving the tea set from the shelf, I started preparing the tea.
Meanwhile, Prince Matias just stood and watched.
Emma: …Isn’t this boring?
Matias: Not at all.Your every movement has my interest.
Moreover, should you spill the tea and stain your clothes, I’ll need to take action.
Or perhaps you’ll need my help retrieving equipment from a high place.
I’ve fantasized about such situations happening and I’m confident in my ability to deal with those incidents.
Emma: That’s promising.
(...Just how many ideas unfold in Prince Matias’ mind?)
There were 100 questions I could’ve asked, but I kept them to myself.
Matias: By the way, why did you invite me to your home? That wasn’t part of our plans…
Emma: I’m sorry…There wasn’t a particular reason, I just suddenly felt like wanting you all to myself.
Matias: You always have me. I only have eyes for you.
Emma: I don’t want to get too greedy.
(Prince Matias really hasn’t noticed)
While we were walking around town, all the women we passed by would turn and look at Prince Matias.
They were like butterflies lured by sweet nectar—
It seemed like the tremendous amount of charm Prince Matias unconsciously gave off affected women left and right.
(I had no choice but to escape because his charm was turned up more than usual)
I didn’t want other women to share the same experience of having my heart race and body heating up, and feeling charmed just by being around him.
That selfish pettiness what brought us to our current situation.
(...I lied, but I don’t want him to know my true feelings)
Matias: …Sorry.
I took out the necessary amount of tea leaves and was about to put the jar back on the shelf when Prince Matias, who was standing beside me, grabbed my hand.
Matias: I always thought I was focusing my efforts on conveying my love, but…
I guess I haven’t been doing enough to make you greedy for me.
Matias pressed his lips on the back of my hand and his sex appeal was unleashed with a bang.
(And here I was thinking about going outside again when this overflowing sex appeal settled down)
He nipped at my index finger and the charm increased in proportion to my racing heartbeat.
(This is dangerous…Very dangerous!)
Emma: Prince Matias, you show your love well…Really well.
Matias: Is that so? I was considering unleashing the rest.
(The rest?! This wasn’t all?!)
Emma: Don’t do that or I’ll die!
Matias: Wha…You’ll die?!
Emma: That’s right, people die when they get too excited!
(I haven’t actually heard about that being a cause of death, but…!)\
It wasn’t a lie, and it could happen if Prince Matias’s villainous sex appeal grew stronger.
Matias: Is that so? I wasn’t aware.
I need to show how I love you without making you worry…That’s truly a challenge.
(I’m sorry, Prince Matias)
Instead of apologizing, I wrapped my arms around Prince Matias’ waist and hugged him.
Since he was a former soldier, it was obvious his body was well-trained, even with all those clothes.
Matias: Can I hug you back?
Emma: Of course.
When I nodded, Prince Matias gently wrapped his arm around me as if holding a fragile item.
Matias: You’re still so small…
But I think you’re hiding something in this small body of yours.
Emma: Huh?
Matias: What exactly are you hiding?
Emma: I’m not h-hiding anything—
As I looked away, Prince Matias played with my hair.
Matias: Since we entered your house, you’ve been acting suspicious and haven’t stopped looking around.
That’s usually how liars react.
Emma: …
Matias: If you’ve been lying in any way, then you’d be guilty of fraud.
Are you really not hiding anything from me?
He placed kisses on the ends of my hair and I got dizzy from the sensuality that reaped my sanity.
(It’s not good…I can’t hide it)
(I wasn’t planning on saying anything…)
Emma: …I really want to have you all to myself.
I couldn’t stand the suggestive looks you got from the people we passed by…
Matias: That happened?
Emma: It did.
Matias: Is that so? I didn’t notice. I was only looking at you.
(This guy…)
Matias: No wonder you’ve been acting strange the whole day.
Emma: …Are you disgusted?
Matias: Why would I?
Emma: I thought I was acting petty…
Matias: Really? If you call that being petty then I’d like you to be more petty.
So much that there’s no place for anyone but me.
Emma: Prince Matias…
It was like that sincere smile before me saved me.
Matias: …However, fraud is fraud.
Emma: Huh?
Matias: You lied by hiding your true feelings, didn’t you?
I’m the Guardian of Law…Therefore I need to punish you impartially.
Sweet, dewy eyes the color of shadow on snow, completely different from those aimed at criminals, approached and I closed my eyes.
The sensation of the savory kiss and feeling of his palms caressing my waist added on to the suffocating charm.
(...I’m going to melt like ice)
Matias held me up as I was about to collapse.
The wet sensation on my lips raised my body heat a bit more.
Emma: It’s a punishment…but it’s very sweet.
Matias: You’re special.
(Ah…I’m feeling more intolerant)
(With Prince Matias, there’s no limits…)
It doesn’t seem like we’ll be leaving my house any time soon because of the Guardian of Law’s sweet judgment.
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Worry Worry
Bucky called out for you just as you entered, "Baby?"
You closed the door behind you.
Bucky peaked out of the kitchen with a smile plastered on his face, "Heyyy,"
You meekly smiled at him, "Hi."
You heard a drop, before he appeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands on the apron, "Are you ok?"
You nodded.
Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your hands wrap around his biceps, as you looked up to meet his careful eyes,
"Y/N,"
"Buck,"
He pressed his lips on your forehead, "You'll tell me if something is wrong, right?"
"Mhm,"
You leaned into his touch, just for a second.
You pulled back and walked away with your back towards him,
"I'm going to take a shower, do you need help with dinner?"
"No." Bucky continued, "Doll?"
You turned to him, "Yep?"
He looked at you, his eyes making you nervous.
"Buck?"
The intensity decreased this time, "Do you want me to get you ice-cream? We're out of it."
You smiled, "No, I'm okay, don't worry."
You basically ran out of the room before he could stare at you more.
You knew you were doing the right thing. Right?
Before you could analyze your choices more, you got out of the shower and gave yourself a pep talk.
You are NOT going to break. How hard is it to keep a secret from him? You're a strong, independent wom-
"Doll?"
Fuck
You walked out of the room, with the fakest smile plastered on your face. If anything, this whole thing proved that you have no future in acting.
"Damn, this looks good!"
You went through your usual convos way too quickly today. You tried engaging him with random stuff but you knew he wasn't buying any of it. After ten minutes, your eyes were glued to your plate and his were on you.
You looked up, "Food's really good."
"Yeah?"
You nodded.
You looked up again and looked back immediately down. It was starting to annoy you, why was he staring into your soul?
"Can you stop?"
Bucky kept his beer down, "Stop what?"
"Looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
You scoffed, "Like this," you did the best Bucky impression you could, but he wasn't impressed. He frowned, "I don't look like that."
"Well, next time go check yourself in the mirror when you do it, WHICH IS ALL THE TIME."
"What's wrong?"
The questioned angered you more. You didn't like that he was pushing you.
"Nothing."
"Doll,"
"I'm done."
You get up to clear your side of the table.
"Fine, don't tell me."
You turned to him, "Oh, is this annoying to you? When someone won't just say what's bothering them. I can't imagine how you must feel."
You hated it as soon as it came out of your mouth. Not that you showed it to him, you turned back to close the dishwasher and walked to your room.
You were fuming at him and yourself. Maybe you blew this way out of proportion.
After a weak try to get through your night routine, you plopped under your covers, hoping it would hide you from the mess you made.
You followed his every step outside though. Him cleaning up, his night checks before he heads to bed, his footsteps getting closer to the bedroom, him shuffling around the room before he settled in.
You laid there in silence, in the dark, for a while, confused about how to start, worrying if he was mad or hurt by what you said or the way you acted.
"I'm sorry."
Silence followed. You fucked up, BIG TIME.
Your eyes watered, but then he turned. He turned and hugged you. This was the last straw for you, you couldn't help but break in his arms. The stress of the day, the stress of hiding things from him and the guilt, it all hit you like thousand bricks.
You turned to face him and hugged him tightly. He held you through it. He let you cry into his chest as he ran his hand on your back, soothingly.
You sniffed, "I got your shirt all wet."
He laughed, "That's okay."
"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
He kissed your forehead and wiped your tears, "I know you didn't mean it."
"I didn't. I don't mind waiting for you to open up."
"I know, I've seen it doll. You don't have to say anything."
"I'm sorry, I really love you and," your voice cracked, your eyes were watering up again.
He held you closer, "I love you too. It's ok, I promise, I'm not hurt."
You pulled away to turn on the lamp.
"I need to tell you something."
He sat straight, looking at you intently.
"So I went out to get lunch. You know the cute cafe that opened nearby?"
"Yeah?"
"That one. Did you know they have another branch at-"
"Doll,"
"Right, so when I was walking I felt like someone was following me."
Bucky immediately tensed up, his eyes widened,
"Buck, I'm fine. I'm here."
You hold his arm, trying to calm him down, but it didn't help.
"What happened Y/N?" He asked sternly, his voice no longer understanding or calming.
"I walked a little more to see if it was in my head. Turns out, it wasn't." You paused, knowing the next part was going to make it even more worse, "I- I tried calling you but,"
"Fuck." Bucky said under his breath. He pulled back, "Fuck, I didn't pick up your call because of the meeting."
"Bucky, I'm fine."
"Something could have happened to you and I didn't pick up when you needed me."
"Buck," you moved closer, but he wasn't having any of it, "What did you do?"
"I called Sam. He told me to wait for him at a restaurant nearby. He was on the call the whole time. He came, we spoke about what happened and he said he was going to look into it. He left me back to the office and even came back to drop me home."
Bucky was ticked off, you saw it on his face, his jaws clenched and his voice heavy, "I saw him before I got out, why didn't he tell me?"
You remained silent.
"Why didn't he tell me Y/N?"
"I told him not to."
Bucky stood up, but you reached out for his hand, "Buck, I wanted to tell you. I knew it would freak you out and make you spiral out of control. I wanted to be the one to break the news to you. It's not a big deal, I-"
"You getting followed is a big deal Y/N. The biggest fucking deal." He said each word slowly and clearly.
He paced around the room, muttering under his breathe.
"I'll stay home and work. I won't go out alone. We'll be fine."
"No, we need to move. We're staying at the headquarters for a bit, till I figure this out. We need to get new numbers-"
"Change my face too while we're at it?"
Bucky's look immediately shut you up.
"Why didn't you tell me immediately? Why did you try to hide it?"
You pointed at him, "This. I knew you would worry and I don't know, I just didn't how to say this without you worrying."
You looked down, cursing whoever followed you for ruining the peace you had going on.
The bed dipped beside you, "Y/N?"
You looked at him. He no longer looked angry. He looked worried, nervous, "Are you ok?"
You nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine Buck. I promise."
"I'm sorry for not being there for you. I should've been there."
"You didn't know. You think I don't know that the minute I mention I need you, you won't be there in a heart beat? I know that Buck, I know you'll be there for me."
"I'm always going to worry about you. You're my, my everything, Y/N. My job is to protect you, everything else comes after."
"Technically, your job is to protect the world."
Bucky's eyes softens, "You're my world,"
You pulled him into a hug, a tight one, "Cheesy, but fine."
Bucky chuckles.
You look at him, "Are you mad?"
"Not at you."
"At Sam?"
"Not for you to worry about."
"Buck, I told-"
Bucky's lips brushed yours softly. You sighed into him, your hands sliding up his chest to wrap around his neck. The kiss deepened, each exploring the other with a mix of urgency and tenderness.
He slowly pulled back to rest his forehead against yours, "We'll figure this out together."
#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky fluff#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#james barnes#marvel
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Ōrālis
Dr Jonathan Crane was a man of great restraint, but he wouldn’t hold himself back from indulging in your self-gratification.
Jonathan Crane x Reader
A/N: I’ve been secretly obsessed with Crane for a while, and just had to make something based off this post! Vaguely dark content (it’s Crane) so please read the tags before proceeding. Minors + ageless blogs DNI!
Word count: 3.1K
Tags: SMUT / DUB-CON / Manipulation / Power play / Misogyny / Abuse of power / Dom + Sub elements / Masturbation (fem + afab anatomy) / Scientific terminology / Dialogue heavy / Crane being weird and unsettling (canon) / Reader is wearing a skirt for logistic purposes
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
You never knew why you even bothered to show up to your sessions early anymore.
Before your previous therapist, Dr Spencer, had retired, you’d used the time to gather your thoughts, perhaps flick through the contents of the random assortment of magazines on the waiting room table, but never to actively contemplate dropping the process entirely whilst staring at a clock, wishing you were anywhere else. Wringing your hands, you shifted uncomfortably on the bench as you tried to suppress the painfully familiar feeling of bile rising to your throat. It was all Dr Crane’s - the Dr Jonathan Crane famed for his work at Arkham – fault, being an uptight, anti-social excuse of a psychiatrist, who, technically, shouldn’t have been treating you regardless. His mutual discontent for the matter was all too obvious, his blunt and borderline disinterested demeanour making you feel that your every thought, choice and emotion was a mistake.
You’d had a painfully exhausting week, from closing deadlines at your job to your cousins’ wedding plans leaving you feeling like you were on the brink of a breakdown. To make things worse, your bus had broken down on the way in, forcing you to walk four blocks of grimy Gotham streets in the rain.
Once the door opened – right on the hour at 5PM as usual – you felt like you wanted to die.
“Might I remind you that this is your time,” his smooth, yet commanding voice said. “If you’d like to waste it, then be my guest.”
You huffed and shifted in your seat, making small circles with your foot as you held back a frown. If it wasn’t his personality that made things uncomfortable, then it certainly was the fact that he was handsome; rather painfully so for someone in his position. He had dark hair, plump pink lips and a chiselled jaw, all of which were spectacular together but couldn’t compare to his eyes; striking, intense and a sharp blue. His eyes, whilst his best feature, was certainly one of the pitfalls of being in an enclosed room with him. They were always watching; staring into your soul and taking you apart, piece by piece, limb by limb.
Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose before pointing your hand at him in a vaguely accusatory manner.
“Look, Doctor, I’ve had a long week. Can you spare being snarky for at least a minute?”
“Interesting that you characterise my frankness as ‘snarky’, Miss L/N,” he said, unmoved by your tone. “It seems like you’re not used to people being direct with you.”
“I have been, remember? You’ve been treating me for two months now.” You replied sarcastically.
“Yes, and I haven’t seen much progress,” he said flippantly, pausing to flick through a notebook before looking back up at you. “I suppose I’m now inclined to ask how you are.”
“I’m amazing,” you said pointedly. “Luck is on my side. I walked here because the bus broke down. Not to mention the fact that I’m four days out from my deadline at work, and I’m probably going to be sick for all of them because of the weather. And my cousin’s wedding is in a month and we still haven’t gotten invitations out, so God knows —“
Crane made a small humming sound that stopped your rambling, a small smirk on his face as he did.
“Did I say something?” You frowned. This man was so self-assured that he found menial, everyday things like this amusing. He probably pitied you.
“It’s clear to me that you’re doing a lot for other people,” he said. “Work is completely understandable, but preparing a wedding is not. You’re not under any obligation to do this.”
You blinked, brows furrowing in confusion as you tried to make sense of what he’d said. His lips were folded into a straight line as he watched you unscramble your thoughts, his oh-so powerful gaze making you feel as if you were a blathering idiot.
“She’s part of my family,” you said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Family help each-other…”
He angled his head in a small nod. “From my understanding, yes; with aspects such as parenting and homemaking.”
“Marriage is a kind of homemaking. It’s very common for families across cultures to be involved in matrimony.” You shrugged.
“Then, what do you suggest you do?” Dr Crane said matter of factly. “Slave over fickle things like necklines and bouquets? What do you gain from torturing yourself in this process?”
“It’s not about me, it’s about my cousin. She deserves to be happy.” You said through gritted teeth, now inexplicably becoming heated. It was clear that he wasn’t one who had many friends – if any – and a relationship with relatives seemed out of the question.
“That statement is almost entirely untrue,” Crane said bluntly, brow raised as he cocked his head in a knowing manner. “We as humans are made to be self-serving. I’m not denying that one such as your relative does not deserve to be happy, more that you want something from making her that way.”
You scoffed. “Are you asking me or telling me?”
He didn’t answer, but merely swallowed, breaking his gaze with you to look around the room cooly before focusing back on you.
“I say this because it’s not uncommon for women to experience envy in these positions. Some have the fickle idea that their assistance in the process will bring themselves further along to matrimony,” he stated. “Thus, your apparent stress on the matter paired with your reaction to my previous statement about familial obligation gives me reason to think that you’re particularly jealous of this cousin.”
You scoffed.
“That is not true.”
Crane hummed and adjusted his posture.
“Is there a significant other in your life?”
“No…” you replied, your voice practically a mumble at the statement. You were almost a hundred percent sure that he’d known that, given he had Dr Spencer’s files in-front of him. Like most things with him, it was just another way to make you feel small.
Again, he didn’t follow up the statement but instead moved on.
“I could go on about how jealousy is a one of the many products of fear, but I’m rather interested about this love life of yours,” he said, placing the notebook on the table below him. “A relationship is one thing, but nowadays there are other options to companionship.”
You swallowed.
“I don’t do hookups, nor friends with benefits. They’re too complicated.”
“I see,” he said. “I wouldn’t write them off too quickly. They can be a fix to what you’re currently experiencing.”
You raised your brows and shook your head at the implication. Not only was Crane making you feel borderline histrionic for simply having a stressful week but suggesting that you were just succumbing to your base desires was even more insulting. Insulting because on some deep level, you knew it was true.
Perhaps you just needed a good, old-fashioned fuck for that sweet boost of dopamine and mental clarity. Truthfully, you couldn’t remember how long it’d been since you’d had sex, let alone been in a relationship, to the point that if undoing your virginity was possible you would’ve been Mother Mary herself.
“Do you partake in masturbation?”
“I don’t think you’re allowed to ask me that.”
“Once again, Miss L/N, that’s untrue,” he said, exhaling as he took off his glasses and folded them into his pocket. “I’m a doctor, and my duty is to help you. Certain ways of masturbation can affect the mind, and I presume that’s one of the sole reasons you came to a therapist. The act releases dopamine, which is certainly good for the brain, not to mention it encourages blood flow to your pelvis,” he said precisely. “Therefore, I ask again. Do you partake in masturbation?”
He cocked his brow this time; piercing blue eyes fixated on your own. You couldn’t tell if he was getting off on your discomfort, the vision of you touching yourself, or a weird mix of somewhere in-between. For a small man, he had a tremendous way of making you feel alone, as if you were the world, yet so seen. You fiddled with your hands, avoiding his gaze as you answered to the ground, wooden flooring suddenly becoming interesting.
“I do... I-It’s just been a while...”
“I’d appreciate it if you answered to me rather than at the floor,” Crane replied before swiftly moving on. “I think we should use the remaining time to work on that.”
Your heart dropped at the statement, and you finally broke your gaze with the floor to stare at him.
“H-How —“
“Start by making yourself comfortable,” he began. “And place your legs up onto the table as you spread them.”
You felt ill, yet there was a painful curiosity in your loins that made you want to follow his every command. It was clear that he wanted to present yourself to him, virtually in a platter, and as much as it made you sick that this was a man you despised, you needed this. “Doctor, I don’t think this is necessary —“
“We’ve got forty minutes,” he interjected. “I suggest you make this quick.”
It’ll make you better, you thought to yourself as you placed your feet onto the table, leaning back as you allowed yourself to relax into the couch. The hem of your skirt rode up as you did, giving him an eyeful of your thighs and up towards your pelvis. Once done, you stared at him expectedly, and he hummed (one that judging by his frown of his lips were of displeasure) getting up from his seat and adjusting you himself. Nothing was ever good enough, something always needed to be fixed. Typical Crane fashion
His hands were cold on your skin as he spread your legs apart, adjusting your footwork so that he’d be able to see more of you. You shuddered as his fingertips momentarily lingered on your inner thigh, and you suddenly became self conscious of your clamminess derived from the sudden condensation of entering the building.
“Interesting,” he spoke, cocking a brow as he wrote something down. “You’re clammy to the touch and your legs are trembling. Is there something you fear?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer.
“Perhaps this will clear your head,,” he said softly, undeniably amused. “I’m going to guide you through your fears…Remove your underwear.”
His voice was noticeably more breathy and ragged than previously, and you took a quick glance down at his crotch, which, if you weren’t to be mistaken, was slightly raised, his usually smoothly ironed clothes now somewhat crumpled. Hesitantly, you shifted your hips up to slide your panties down your legs, quickly unnerved at the fact that you didn’t know what to do with them.
“Put them on the side,” Crane instructed. “Inhale, and place your hand between your thighs. As you exhale, I want you to place your fingers at the top, on your hood.”
Your chin wobbled nervously as you did so, eyes locked on Jonathan’s own. He swallowed, and you could’ve sworn that you saw his lip tremble in the process. You didn’t know to be scared or proud that he was seemingly anxious about it all.
“Now begin to stimulate the area as you would if you were alone.”
You nodded, using two fingers to rub small circles on your hood. Sometimes, when you’d tried in the past, it’d been apparent that there simply wasn’t enough lubrication.
Today that wasn’t the case.
The action gave you a tingle, but it wasn’t enough to make you feel better. Jonathan seemed to sense this.
“Use pressure. It’ll make you feel better.”
It did. The force of your middle finger down on your sensitive clit hood sent a pulse down you legs, building to a steady rhythm as you resumed your motions. You let out a broken sigh and bit your lip, your restraint a great disappointment to the man across from you.
“Why must you insist on running from your own pleasure? I want to hear you, and I’d appreciate it if I didn’t have to ask twice.”
Craning your neck, you willed yourself to let out a moan, finding that it was far easier than you’d expected. It was just one of the many things you let build up in your head.
“Good.” Crane hummed, and you could’ve sworn that he had unzipped his pants, relieving some pressure from his swollen bulge. “Now, move down to spread your labia apart. Allow yourself to indulge in your deepest fantasies, and use more fingers. I want you to explore yourself for me.”
Letting out a whimper, your eyes fluttered shut as you found yourself lost in the smooth timbre of his voice; sensuous, pointed, with a deep rumble. It pained you that this man – this antagonist – was the individual within your fantasies, much more the fact that he knew it. How long had he been waiting to do this?
There was a slight pain upon entering yourself; your walls moulding to accost themselves to the unfamiliar intrusion as you pumped your hands in and out of you. Your slow but methodic movements brought you a great sense of pleasure as you spread your arousal across your fingers, stimulating your hot sex.
Jonathan let out a slow hum as he watched your chest rise and fall, succumbing to his basic urges as he mindlessly rubbed his hand over his cock. He wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of taking it out; let alone masturbate in-front of you. No, that would come much later.
“Take your fingers deeper,” he instructed, subtly biting the inside of his lip. “I know it worries you. Too often we fear the unknown, but if you want to feel better, you’ll do it for me.”
You did, burying your fingers into yourself to the point that your first phalanges disappeared within you as you motioned your fingers in a controlled movement. Finding yourself growing a quiet confidence from Crane’s amused smirk, you began to fasten your pace, pistoning your fingers like a machine.
The wet sounds of your sex filled the room, the shine of your fingers undeniable as you spread yourself apart, baring your pussy just for him. This is what he wanted.
This was what you wanted.
Right?
Right.
“Very good,” the man crooned. “It feels good, doesn’t it? If this was all it took for you to be obedient, I suppose I would’ve introduced masturbation to our sessions a while ago.”
The differences were stark; all your spite from the beginning of the session had dissipated, and you were like putty in his hands. He’d integrated your mind like a parasite, a snake, and had carried out his word – he was making you better.
“Y-Yeah..” you whispered, mind blank as you found it difficult to keep your legs up. Crane was stimulating himself through his trousers, small breaths from his chest ragged as he spoke.
“Good girl,” he sighed. “Is my voice turning you on? Would you like me to bring you to release?”
You nodded, an uncharacteristic squeal escaping your lips as you brushed past your clit. Jonathan sighed again, his lips pursed as he fought the urge to do it all for you, just for a feel of your wetness and tight walls. Alas, unlike other men, he knew how to exercise control.
“Taste yourself.” he commanded without an ounce of hesitation. You winced, hands trembling as you removed them from inside of you and bringing them to your lips. Cautiously, you took a small lick of your juice, squeezing your eyes shut as you tasted yourself on your tongue. You’d never done that before.
“Now touch yourself again, only faster. Keep your legs up, I want to see you. All of you. In this room, in this moment, you belong to me.”
You wanted him to fucking consume you. Frantically, you switched between stimulating all of your zones, from your lips to your clit, a pornographic squelching sound coming from your nether regions. Crane bit down on the inside of his cheek, his nostrils flared as he palmed his cock, feeling spurts of pre-cum coat his pelvis.
He let out a restraint grunt, and for some reason it made your loins tingle, sending a pulsing heat to your core. Given the way your head spun, and your vision became jagged, you could tell that you were close, which Crane took great joy in.
“Perfect…” he hummed. “Look at me when you cum. Can you feel yourself lose control? This is what you needed, wasn’t it, you silly whore? Give yourself to me. All of it…”
Had you been in a clear state of mind, you would’ve taken that as a threat, but in your bout of ecstasy it was hard to not be intoxicated by the idea. His voice was so soothing, so controlled and yet menacing that you felt like you’d sold your soul to the devil himself. Perhaps in a way, you had.
Your legs were overcome by the force of your orgasm, quivering as you found it difficult to stay still. Squeezing your legs shut, you came around your fingers with a cry, your fluids spurting around your fingers and trickling onto your thigh and seeping down your legs.
It felt impossible to come down from your own palpitations, and Crane’s stare was far from useful in relieving your anxieties. The man had barely moved, but he looked somewhat flummoxed, his hair slightly curly and tousled from sweat, whilst his pink lips looked raw, as if he’d been gnawing on them.
Had he cum? Had he enjoyed this at all? Oh God, you were wondering if your therapist had cum from your private masturbation.
The reality of what you’d done was coming back to you now, and you truly didn’t know what to think. You wanted to stay; to be petted and showered with praise for your show, and yet run and hide completely. You’d only known him for two months.
And. He. Was. Your. Therapist.
And so, you found yourself glancing back up at the time again.
“That was…quite something,” Crane said slowly, clearing his throat as he nonchalantly polished off his glasses before putting them on. “I assume you’re feeling better now. I think I’d like to integrate this into our future sessions, starting with next week,”
There was his usual detached tone. You thought orgasms brought mental clarity, but Jonathan was an enigma.
“- It might be useful for you to wear a skirt, something accessible...I happen to like the colour you’ve got on now.”
#florence writes!!#jonathan crane x reader#scarecrow x reader#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#jonathan crane smut#tdk! scarecrow#dc x reader
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I’LL PICK YOU UP ON THE WAY HOME
Summary, Jealous ex-boyfriend, Harry picks you up from a party after a last choice call was made from you.
Warnings, Jealous Harry?
This is so many words and not much dialogue. Enjoy the first of many!!
…
Harry was an ex you hadn’t spoken to in almost two years.
He was someone you had loved very much at the time, he was just a little bit too protective over you at the time, which is not what you had wanted as a 21 year old girl who’s friends loved a party.
You had never ridded his contact of your phone, it felt strange since he had been the first number to go in it after you had gotten it with him. Plus, he had never done anything wrong and you felt slightly bad for ending things the way you did.
You hadn’t been together that long at the time, you had told yourself hundreds of times, trying to rid the guilt you had whenever one of your girlfriends would tell you how miserable he was.
It was terrible that one of your girlfriends was dating his best friend, and you were a main source of topic for their entertainment.
You had thought about calling him as soon as your date had pulled up to the house, you could hear the music booming atleast 4 streets away and the place looked crammed with 17 year olds, a weird place for a 25 year old to take you on a first date.
He had led you inside the house, letting you follow his heels, greeting almost everyone that was in his path.
Your first red flag was a girl coming up to your date, who was unfortunately named Chad, you’d heard it all from your girlfriends already, and him hugging her with his hands a bit too close to somewhere they shouldn’t be.
This had made you pull your phone out, scroll down to the very bottom of your contacts and send a quick message to someone who may not even answer you, you’d been so lucky he hadn’t blocked you already and you were so grateful.
You sent a quick “hey” and hoped the recipient didn’t hate you as much as you hated yourself for texting him.
…
About an hour later, the party felt a bit dull compared to when you had arrived, everyone feeling lulled on the couch from everything they had drank, smoked and consumed in many other ways.
Including your date.
You had never been happier to feel your phone ringing in your back pocket and feel the excitement yet dread when your screen read “Harry Styles”
“Hello” you said sounding a little ashamed, making your way to sit on the front porch away from the booming music and the yelling of party goers who were still feeling their high.
“Hey” he replied sounding a little too groggy for you liking, like he’d woken and immediately called you “Why’d you text me? Thought you wanted nothing to do with me”
You felt your heart pang a little at this, but you could feel the hurt in his voice also “I’m at a party with a bunch of high schoolers. I need an escape”
“Gonna need more than that to get me going Y/N” he’d never sounded so irritated to you, but you also understood. The first time you’d texted him in almost two years was for an excuse to leave a party.
“Please come get me, i’ve basically been ditched and none of the girls know i’m here” You sighed feeling so ashamed you were doing this”
Harry ended the call. You waited, hoping he was still the sweet boy you had met 5 years ago.
…
10 minutes later, Harry’s car pulled up outside of the house. You jumped to your feet, jogged over to the car and placed yourself in his passenger seat
“Thank you so much Harry” you looked at him, your eyes pleading for his to meet yours.
He hummed in acknowledgment.
You sat in silence for 5 minutes while Harry drove in the direction opposite of your apartment, He came to a stop when he came to a quieter road with houses all using dimmed lights. He turned the car off and placed his hands in his lap.
“What are we-”
“Why have you done this to me Y/N? You know i’m still so utterly in love with you. So you text me at 11am a shitty message saying ‘hey’”
“In my defence you’re the one who called me, you could’ve ignored my message and blocked me, you can’t blame me for your lack of self control”
You heard harry chuckle quietly to himself, that’s when you realised you’d said something that maybe you shouldn’t have.
“What are you even doing at a party full of children, you’re 23 Y/N” Harry finally looked at your face, your red cheeks prominent and wasted makeup.
His heart broke knowing after he dropped you home, you were gone again and there was nothing he could do about it.
“I was supposed to be on a first date, but instead he drove us to a high schoolers party. Basically touched up a girl right infront of my face, then got pissed and probably even high while letting me fend for myself when these are people he knows”
Harry slightly laughs to himself, but tires to cover it up by slapping his hand over his mouth. “You sure know how to pick ‘em”
“Picked you. You’re alright” You remarked back and Harry’s head quickly snapped back up to you and slightly glared at you “Sorry, that was really mean”
“I really fucking hate when you go on dates, y’know. Makes me so cross knowing ‘yer going out with all these shit guys when i’m right infront of you”
It’s like he was on his needs begging, pleading for you to love him. Tearing his heart out of his chest ready to give to you.
“You’ve always been such a jealous prick” You smirked at him and he couldn’t help his lips curling up into a smile.
“Hard not to be, look at you. You’re insane and i had my chance and fucked it with you, Cause i was scared to lose something i wanted forever”
You sighed and reached over to place your hand on top of his, he flinched away slightly. You curled your fingers around his hand and held it tightly.
“I love you” You admitted shamefully “It never went anywhere and i think i may just be slightly ashamed that i ended something so good just for what? To get drunk and dance around at a party full of strangers. When i had you waiting for me with open arms no matter the time i came back”
Harry shifted in his seat and moved towards the centre console of his car, you kicked your shoes off and sat cross legged on his passenger seat. Turning towards him, being able to see his face fully.
“You infuriate me, you know that don’t you” He says moving closer, close enough you could feel his breath of your face.
Swearing you can heart his heart beating out of his chest.
“Can you please” You thought for a second, were you making the right decision? Telling him you wanted him all over again, when you feared you may be slightly high from all the fumes in that house party.
Harry hummed gently “What would you like, Angel? Anything for you. I swear” His eyes flicked down towards your lips but quickly returned to your eyes.
“Kiss me” you practically begged him.
His lips crashed onto yours, his hands finding your jaw and cupping your cheeks while you sat in, what felt like an isolated area.
Kissing a man that you thought was just madly possessive over you, instead he just wanted the world for you, and you were the world to him.
#harry styles one shots#harry syles one shots#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles social media#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you
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Evan Buckley Week 2024
The prompts for Evan Buckley Week 2024 are here!
This event celebrating our very own Evan "Buck" Buckley from 9-1-1 will be held from the 12th until the 18th of August 2024.
You don't need to sign up to participate, just make sure that when you post your work here on Tumblr, you use the tag #buckweek2024. Since tags can get a bit finicky here on Tumblr, you can choose to let us know you posted by also tagging @evanbuckleyweek in your post. Fics posted to ao3 can be added to the Evan Buckley Week 2024 collection.
We've provided prompts for edits as well as fanfiction and art. However, you don't have to stick to one specific list. We encourage you to choose from whichever one sparks joy, as long as you make sure to post on the corresponding day the prompt belongs to!
Edits
For edits, we have some prompts for you where you can pick your Buck-related favorites to make an edit with. All kinds of edits are welcome! Show us your gifs, image-edits and collages!
Day 1: Buck + favorite rescue
Day 2: Buck + favorite line
Day 3: Buck + favorite near death experience
Day 4: Buck + hugs
Day 5: Buck + bi disaster moments
Day 6: Buck + love language
Day 7: favorite headcanon or free choice
Fic & art
For fics and art we're giving you a few prompts to choose from every day. You can choose only one of these, or choose to combine two or all three of them! Every day consists of a line, a theme and a feeling.
Every part of the prompts is completely open to your interpretation. Surprise us with your creativity! We look forward to your fics and all variations of art and other creative works!
Day 1: “Why did you do that?” | reckless behavior | fear
Day 2: “This is my home” | catharsis | hope
Day 3: “Stop lying” | walking away | anger
Day 4: "I really don't like thunderstorms" | late night conversations | anxiety
Day 5: “I wonder what it would have been like if I had known sooner” | bi pride | acceptance
Day 6: "that's why I love you" | love languages | joy
Day 7: favorite headcanon or free choice
Some last things before you go and create your masterpieces:
Please make sure that your fics on ao3 are tagged with the proper ratings and warnings.
We want to ask you to refrain from submitting any of the following: works with character bashing or ship bashing as well as works containing explicit rape/non-con, pedophilia and incest (exploring the aftermath or trauma of these things is okay). Fics that do contain any of these will not be accepted into the ao3 collection and posts will not be reblogged to the Evan Buckley Week blog.
If you have a question, check our FAQ page to see if the answer is there or drop an ask in our inbox!
#evan buck buckley#evan buckley#buckweek2024#911 on abc#9-1-1#911 abc#911 fox#Evan Buckley Week 2024
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Paper Hearts Part 3
Thank you for the lovely response to this story, it makes me warm and fuzzy inside.
This chapter is just 2000 words of Wayne and Eddie being sweethearts to Steve.
Part 1 Part 2
****
Eddie led the way through his trailer to the kitchen past Wayne, who was sitting in his armchair reading the newspaper, a defeated Harrington limping behind.
“What did I tell you about bringing home strays, Ed?” Wayne huffed, a small, gentle smile on his face.
Eddie shook his head, his curls flying. “I’m just watering and feeding this one before I return it back to its owners.”
Harrington blushed and ducked his head. “I got lost.”
Wayne’s eyebrows shot up. He looked over at Eddie who nodded his confirmation.
“This is my Uncle Wayne,” Eddie introduced them. “This is Steve Harrington, Uncle.”
Wayne’s eyebrows stayed raised. Of all the people Eddie could have brought home, he was pretty sure this was the biggest surprise.
“You got your car?” he asked.
“This dumbass was out running around with his head in the fucking clouds,” Eddie scoffed.
Wayne’s glance at Harrington was far more appraising. He looked him up and down, taking in the sweat on his brow, the limping, the slumped shoulders, and vacant expression.
“You do that often, son?” he asked Harrington, folding up his newspaper.
Harrington just shrugged. “I like running to get out of my head.”
Wayne licked his upper lip slowly, calculating. “Uh-huh.” He looked over at his nephew, who had his hands on his lower back and staring at the floor. “There is some leftover beef from Sunday.”
Eddie jumped excitedly. “Yes! That would be perfect.”
He loped over to fridge and pulled out a Tupperware container. He set it on the counter. He got out two plates and a glass. He filled the glass with water and handed it to Harrington.
“Don’t worry, princess,” he huffed. “Our water comes from the same place as yours does.”
Harrington rolled his eyes. “I’m not worried about you poisoning me.”
“You’d be the first,” Wayne said with a chuckle.
Harrington furrowed his brows and looked between them in confusion.
“Surely,” Wayne said in amusement, “you’ve heard about Ed’s reputation going to that school of yours.”
Harrington shook his head. He looked down at his feet. “I mean, I hear rumors and shit, but I really don’t believe that he chased three freshmen with a hunting knife.”
Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “You would pick the one rumor that was actually true.”
Harrington’s head snapped up. “What? Why would you do that?”
Behind him the microwave beeped and Eddie hurried to get their food out. He piled on the food and handed it to him.
“Because they were trying to buy drugs off me,” Eddie muttered as he handed Harrington a fork.
Harrington blinked at him a moment and then nodded. “Is there an age that you do start selling to high school students?” His eyes went wide and looked at Wayne in panic. “I mean, if you were selling drugs. Not that you do or anything.”
Wayne chuckled and shook his head. “I am more than perfectly aware of my nephew’s side business, thank you. I wish he didn’t have to do it, but he hasn’t had a lot of choices in the legal employment racket, not for someone like Ed. But sometimes a couple of grams sold is the difference between not having to chose to pay the water bill or the power bill.”
“Uncle Wayne and I set down ground rules when I started dealing,” Eddie huffed. “One of them was not selling to anyone under the age of sixteen.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
Harrington ate his food in silence.
“Do you need to call your parents?” Wayne asked. “Won’t they be worried where you are?”
Harrington shook his head. “They’re going to scream the same amount if I was five hours late or on time. I’d rather just deal with it the once thanks.”
Eddie and Wayne shared a worried glance over his head. Eddie was far too familiar with that nugget of parental discipline, because that’s exactly what Al would do with him.
“You ready to go, Stevie?” Eddie asked as he set their now empty plates in the sink.
“Don’t worry about cleaning up, Ed,” Wayne said. “I’ll take care of it while you take him home.”
Harrington blinked up at Eddie after he used his given name. “Oh, yeah. Of course. Thanks for dinner and the water.”
Wayne nodded. Eddie led the way back out to the van.
“All righty,” he said, pulling his door closed. “You’re gonna have to give me directions, pretty boy.”
Harri–Steve blinked at him for a moment. “I thought everyone had been to my house at one point or another.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, dude?”
Steve just curled his hands on his lap and then mumbled directions.
Eddie cursed himself in his head. He had gotten the other boy to come out of his shell a little bit while they were talking to Wayne, but now the lid had slammed shut.
Because Steve was right. Even though he only invited the popular kids, his parties always exploded way past the original guest list. But Eddie had avoided it when it was Steve’s place though. Dealing at Hagan’s or any of Steve’s former pals was easy enough, his van fit right in with all the vehicles no problem. But in Loch Nora? Yeah... that was like showing up to a funeral in torn up jeans and smelling strongly like booze.
“Let’s just say my van is a little more conspicuous in Loch Nora,” he said after they had driven in silence for a couple of miles.
Steve’s head snapped up. “Oh. Shit. Yeah. My neighbors might not call the cops on any of my parties but they would absolutely be on the horn if they saw your van parked anywhere on the street.” He picked at his nails. “I keep forgetting shit like that.”
Eddie risked a glance at the other boy, whose shoulders were rounded against being bullied.
“Dude,” he huffed, “the whole fucking school saw what you looked like when you came back after tangling with Billy that kind of damage leaves lasting affects. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Steve scoffed. “Asshole fucking cheated. Took a plate to my head and then just started wailing on me. Probably would have killed me too.”
“So what stopped him?”
“Being tranq’ed by his step-sister,” he snorted. “She was visiting a friend of hers. One Billy didn’t approve of because of the color of his skin. Billy threatened to kill the kid, so I hit him. Would have won, too, if he hadn’t fucked me up with the plate.” He took a deep breath. “Anyways, they had some tranquilizers because one of their parents were having trouble sleeping. She grabbed one and jabbed it into his neck.”
“Pretty brave thing to do,” Eddie conceded. “Sounds like there were two badasses there that night.” Then he shook his head. “So you got the shit beat out of you for defending little sheep and Wheeler still went for Byers? I don’t know, man, sounds like she wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit her in the ass.”
Steve huffed out a breath of laughter before he caught himself. He hid his smile under his fist. “Something like that, yeah.”
They pulled up to his house and Steve let out this strange little pained noise. Like it was relief and disappointment all rolled into one. A sound Eddie was far too familiar with.
“My parents aren’t home.”
Eddie looked over at him in curiosity. “How can you tell?” Because yeah, the front lights were off and the house seemed quiet, Eddie knew these houses were big enough that if there was a light on in the back of the house, it couldn’t be seen from the road.
“The garage is closed,” Steve huffed. “They only close it when they leave. They have to show off to the whole neighborhood the cars they drive.”
Eddie blinked at Steve in confusion. “Aren’t they worried someone will steal their car?”
Steve shook his head. “It’s insured, plus they don’t believe anyone would rob them in their fancy house while they’re home.”
Eddie looked up at the large house, so big it could only really be called a mansion. “Are they stupid or arrogant?”
“Both.”
“Look, Steve,” Eddie said, stopping him briefly. “I need to apologize and every time I see you you distract me. So I’m just going to come out and say it. I’m the one that shoulder checked you the day you hurt your hand.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed dramatically.
“You see, you had this far off look my uncle gets sometimes and the best thing to do is make a noise or bump into him. Just something that reminds him that his not where ever his mind is and that’s in the present. But I heard these assholes saying that they got their kicks out of kicking your stuff and stomping on your hand and I realized that it was my fault that happened and I’m really, really sorry.”
Steve stared at him for a moment. “Oh. Hey, it’s not your fault, you were only doing what you thought would help. I wasn’t spacing out or whatever. I was just feeling sorry for myself over a stupid holiday. But apology accepted, I guess.”
Eddie nodded, feeling a little bit better about it.
Steve hopped out of the van and he turned back to Eddie. “Thanks for the ride, Eds.”
He slammed the door behind him and walked up to his big, dark, lonely, still house and Eddie felt a small pang of something like pity for the guy. And wasn’t that a kick in the teeth.
When he got home, Wayne was waiting up for him.
“Did that boy get into any trouble when he got home?” were the first words out of his uncle’s mouth. Not so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘by your leave’.
Eddie shook his head. “They weren’t home. I don’t know if they went out to dinner without him or if they just went on one of their infamous business trips.”
Wayne cocked his head to the side. “What’s so infamous about them?”
“They leave so often,” Eddie murmured, “that Steve is pretty famous for the ‘rich kid, empty house’ trope you see movies these days.”
“He’s got friends he can stay with, doesn’t he?” Wayne pressed.
Again Eddie shook his head. “He blew up his friends group awhile back, called them all assholes and bullies over some chick. Then the chick broke up with him over the eldest Byers boy.”
Wayne patted the spot next to him on the sofa. “Tell me about this Harrington kid. You used to all the time, ranting and raving about something or another that he did and then you just stopped.”
Eddie flopped down on the sofa with a heavy sigh. “Like there wasn’t anything to tell after that, you know. He just faded into the background. Gave up his title of King of Hawkins High and then Friday happened.”
“And you found out he was being bullied,” Wayne finished. “I see. That’s got to be rough to go from being surrounded by people to not having anyone there for him.”
Eddie threw his head back onto the back of the sofa and let out a loud groan. “Like it’s my thing. Picking up the lost and the lonely. But this one comes with a lot more baggage than the others and I’m not afraid for me or the rest of my friends but...” He buried his fingers into his hair and screamed.
Wayne nodded. Eddie befriending Steve could make things worse for him and not better. But inaction might hurt the boy in the long run.
“Maybe do something for him that he doesn’t know it’s you,” he suggested to his nephew. “That way he knows he’s not alone, but your reputation won’t make things worse for him.”
Eddie frowned for a moment and then his eyes went wide. “Oh! I think I know exactly what to do!”
Wayne smiled at him. “I figured you would.”
****
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Thinking about Venti's role as an archon and how he might be doing his job- as Celestia intended- better than we think.
Archons, in Gnosticism, rule over the material realm and prevent souls from leaving it. Barbatos, in the Ars Goetia, "reconciles disputes between friends and those who hold power".
Everything we know about Venti implies that he hates Celestia and opposes all forms of tyranny, but if their goal is to keep humanity from advancing, realising the truth of the world and taking actions that could threaten the status quo...
...isn't the best way to prevent rebellions and slow progress to make the people you rule content with what they have?
Venti is all about making his people's lives leisurely and seemingly free (I'll get to that in a second). It's in his gemstone quote, the thing which summarises his approach as an archon:
"Still, the winds change direction.
"Someday, they will blow towards a brighter future…
"Take my blessings and live leisurely from this day onward."
We see this reflected in Mondstadt's culture and economy. There are still hardworking individuals in the Knights of Favonius, the Church of Favonius and the Adventurer's Guild, but this attitude isn't universal even within those organisations and the rest of Mondstadt's people generally have a slow, relaxed approach to life relative to other nations. They haven't produced any internationally notable industries outside of alcohol, and why would they? They have everything they need, graciously provided by the anemo archon himself*, so why strive for more?
This has already left them vulnerable to the whims of more powerful nations, incapable of meaningfully opposing the Fatui without inviting consequences they can't handle.
*Also see Jean's story quest for a scaled-down version of this. Mondstadt's general population relies on her hard work a bit too much and she enables them.
We also see Mondstadt have a softening effect on outsiders multiple times in-game. There are at least three cases of people questioning their life choices because its people and/or scenery are that nice. Two are branches of hangout events, one is a soon-to-be-ex treasure hoarder chilling on Cider Lake's coast. I've joked that Mond is a lotus eater hotel scaled up to a nation based on this, but what if that's somewhat intentional?
But why would he do this?
It could be an unintended side effect of efforts to improve people's quality of life. He was allegedly naive enough not to forsee the aristocracy situation, after all. But at the same time... he's a god of freedom and hope in a world where his people have no hope of freedom.
-Harmost's Notes (II), Remuria.
He knows what happens to human civilisations that advance too far and attempt to rebel against this world. He likely knows a god much like him, themed around music and desperate to free his people from fate, tried and failed horribly. He lives in the shadow of a celestial needle. The Cataclysm would only reinforce this perceived futility of resistance. He still hopes for a brighter future, but he may be pinning all of his hopes on a descender taking pity on Teyvat's people and choosing to help them. To quote the description of Mondstadt Statues of the Seven:
A monumental stone statue that watches over Mondstadt. Legends say that it was sculpted in the image of the Anemo Archon. "Seeds brought by the wind will grow over time." The statue silently anticipates the arrival of a noble soul to arrive, while thousand winds of time will soon unfold a new story...
Apart from that, what else can he do besides be passive and complacent? Besides make his people comfortable and hope they don't rock the boat too much before liberation is actually possible?
And the thing about resolving disputes with those in power worries me. It could just translate into his pacifism, but it could also mean he's less willing to act against Celestia than we'd hope. Why did the Tsaritsa, the only archon named after a saint and willing to take a stand against Celestia, fall out with him? He has reasons to be pissed at her methods but I suspect that won't be the only factor.
All we can do is wait and see.
#this is throwing things at the wall; hope it's coherent#am i cooking with this#genshin#genshin lore#venti
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"Influencing influencers"
Im Byron, im kinda popular on the media, wouldnt call myself an influencer but at least an small celebrity for certain people: gay guys. Im popular between gay guys.
Then there is this guy, Tod, he do Is an influencer, another gay guy pretty popular, and we have done some colaboration videos, thanks to this i got a bit of highlights recently, getting more followers, but just some days ago Tod posted something off, at least for his usual:
Fart jokes? Superhero referentes? Both together!? Really weird if you ask me to. The situation got weirder when a lot of popular guys from the "gymbro side" of the media started comenting, celebrating his video... And he wrote back, in the weirder way posible:
"@markobroskii: Sick Bro! Superman Is next
@Tody_yourguy: Aded to the list broski!"
Didnt tought too much about It until he post a video that made my jaw drop:
He wasnt just wearing clothes that didnt match his usual but he was in the lingerie zone playing with the undies, saying he was making the zone 'More enjoyable to the View"
That sell the deal. I send his a message and went to his place to check on him.
In the way to his place i saw his @ on media changing to @Tod_thebro.
Wtf!?
When arrived, i notice diferences since he open the door, he stank!
- Jesus! Tod, thats your smell!?
- Yeah, some bro scent, go ahead bro, take a sit - he said With a voice that sounded diferent, he was talking with this "Frat Bro" acent we used to laugh about.
His apartament was now a mess, full of empty - and not so empty - pizza boxes, empty beer cans, dirty clothes, and sticky looking socks... He offer me a beer from a brand i didnt knew, but i'm not really a drinker so maybe thats why. I took it just to be polite, took some sips... Wasnt that bad.
Tried to find the cleanest place and thats where i sat.
- Sup bro, what did you wanna talk about?
- Well... About this... - I said looking around -Whats happening? First that gross fart video - I saw him chuckle when i mentioned that - then that also gross video on the lingerie store and Now... Look at your apartament, what hapened?
- I woke up bro - thats his only answer.
- Huh?
- I realice that gay life wasnt right for me
- What the fuck you- he interupt me
- Going to the gym, no worries about skin care routine - he keep talking - no worries even about showers, not washing my butt every-time-i-have-a-date - he said that words sounding indeed really sick of it- or not washing my butt at all, no using it for please other guys, just using it for this:
After saying that he lifted a leg and rip a long, smelly and loud fart
PRRRRRRFFFFFFFTTTFFFF the fart resonated for all the place, stinking everything, i had to cover my nose inmediatly, which make Tod laugh.
- Tod, theres no way to go straight, u have always been against that believe!
- Used to, but theres way, and you Will UAAARP agree soon
- What do you mean? - i said confused, and a bit of worried
- See, my awaking start when i had the first can of a beer from this weird brand a hot masc guy gave me, that same beer you are drinking now
Oh fuck.
- Oh n-OOUUUURRRRRP
- It's already starting, bro
- Theres no way, uh-PRRRRRRFFTTTFFFF
Tod was smiling with and almost evil smile, chugged a can of beer, belched and said: Cheers bro.
While here, I was burping non-stop, feeling my brain a bit foggy... Why I was worried about?
...
@ morningboy💕:
Oh!, Byron finally posted something, and it looks like a colab with Tod! Maybe he make him come back to his senses, all his 'turning straight' story really afect to the community.
Anyways lets see the video...
Ok, that outfit was a choice, Byron - I tough
Keep watching.
Oh... Oh no, is Byron having a fart contest with Todd!?
This feels wrong... Wait! Why his user just changed to @Byb-ronski...
#dumber#male tf story#gay to straight#fart kink#gay#fart#bottom to top#alpha bro#male tfs#fart story
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Partners In Crime
Summary:
Matt leads a dangerous life, and his wife is keeping one hell of a secret. What happens when she almost loses her chance to tell him?
Word Count: 738
TW: Angst with happy ending, hurt/comfort, near death experience, guns, mafia, hidden pregnancy
A/N: This fic is a submission for the Bratzfornick141 writing contest!!! Hosted by @bratzforchris & @nicksbestie (Angst, Mafia X Goody, Taking Care Of Each Other, Hiding a Big Secret)
-Madi <3
“”“”“”“”“”
I stare down at two pink lines on the bathroom counter, as I realize that I don’t know what to do. I love Matt so much, and I know he wants a family together… but it’s not safe with the work that he does. He does his best to protect me from it, but I know I’m always in danger. I know that he would leave it all behind to start a family with me, but I can’t ask him to leave behind the life he built with his brothers.
I’ll just wait until the time is right, and then I’ll tell him. Whatever he decides is going to be okay.
“”“”“”“”“”
Three Weeks Later
I quickly walk through the warehouse, towards my husband’s office. He hates it when I visit him at work, but this is too important to wait. I understand his hesitation with letting me into this part of his life… he just doesn’t want to risk me getting hurt, but there’s no way I let him out of my sight for too long. I’m constantly worried that something will happen to him, but there’s no way that he would leave the empire that he built from the ground up.
“what are you doing here?” He’s already annoyed. I had no choice but come to him, since he refused to come home early. “You know I hate it when you come here, I can’t let anything happen to you baby.”
“I have to tell you something…” All of the sudden it’s like the words refuse to leave my mouth. I didn’t mean to hide it from him for so long, but we’ve seen each other for a total of one hour over the last two weeks… I can’t keep a secret like this anymore. “Matt… I’m p-” all of the sudden I’m getting pushed to the ground by my husband.
I hear it, before I see the reason. It’s all so sudden. The guards tackle a man with a gun in his hand. Then it clicks.
“MATT!” He’s toppling to the floor, and I barely stop his head from hitting the ground.
no.
no.
nononononononono.
this isn’t happening… this can’t be real… wake up!
my husband lays with his head in my lap, gasping for air and wincing in pain. The black button up that he wear is slowly turning a dark shade of maroon.
I place my hand directly under his left rib and push down hard. “MNPHH… Did he hit you?!?!” Matt reaches up to my shoulder trying to decipher whether I was hurt or not.
“No, I’m okay…” suddenly there are guards pulling Matt away from me, and escorting us to a blacked out car. Once we’re in the backseat, I tear open Matt’s shirt…
there’s so much blood…
Shit.
all of the sudden everything starts spinning, as I feel the bile rising in my throat. I quickly reach for my purse and dump it out, before emptying the contents of my stomach into it. I quickly zip it up and turn back to Matt, taking his shirt off completely and using it to apply pressure to the wound. He’s squirming away from my touch, but I can’t stop applying pressure… I can’t lose him.
“I know baby… I know it hurts, but you’re going to be okay… you have to be okay.” I’ve never seen Matt so pale.
why won’t the blood stop?
”it’s o… okay, I love you so much ma, a…and I know that you will be oka- okay, no matter what happens.” He gasps for air. This can’t be real.
“NO!” He looks at me, this time less scared of death, and more scared of me. “You aren’t allowed to die…” he tries to argue again, but I cut him off. “NO, You aren’t allowed to make me a single mother!” I choke on my tears as I say it, and it feels like something in Matt’s eyes changes.
“okay… I won’t leave you alone.” He says softly.
we finally arrive at the safe house after what feels like hours, and they sweep Matt away to get him to emergency surgery. Nick and Chris arrive shortly after.
“WHAT HAPPENED?!?!” Nick screams as he runs up to me. I flinch back at his volume. Chris gently grabs my arm, in an attempt to comfort me.
“it’s all my fault… he pushed me out of the way, and I couldn’t stop him… I think it was someone who works for y’all, the guard tackled him… it was supposed to be me.” I devolved into sobs and apologies, as Chris and Nick hold me. We sit like that for what feels like an eternity.
“”“”“”“”“”
when they finally allow visitors, Chris and Nick tell me to go first. I nearly burst into tears when I see Matt, fragile and tangled in wires.
“Hey, ma… or should I say Mama?” With that I run to his side sobbing. He manages to adjust himself so that I can lay with him. I fall asleep peacefully with him next to me, knowing that our little family will be okay.
“”“”“”“”“”
@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi
#bratzfornick’s 141 writing challenge#madi writes things#matthew bernard sturniolo#major character injury#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt x reader#matthew sturniolo x reader#mattsturniolo
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I understand that people are going to cope how they are going to cope, and trying to find meaning in the handling of Tech in season three is part of that, but it’s also okay to criticize the show.
I like a good character death. Tech’s departure was not that. My issue is not that he’s presumed dead, my issue is that it and the handling of it is nonsense. So (I once again get very negative about my favorite show under the cut):
1. When you kill off a main character, you really have to kill them off. How you do so can vary from story to story, but you really have to do four things:
One, you need a good reason to kill them off in the first place. (“Stakes” is not a good reason. A secondary character, sure, but not a main one. More on that in a minute.)
Two, you need to make it perfectly clear that the character is, in fact, dead.
Three, you need to show the other characters processing and accepting that death. This is important because doing so will allow the audience to do the same and let the character go. This is especially important if you’re writing for a young audience.
Four, you need to make it explicitly clear that the character cannot come back. This is especially true in sci fi or fantasy. Especially if you’re the Character Resurrection franchise.
And guess what the show didn’t do?
Any of that. Any of it. What it did instead was ambiguously remove Tech from the story (uniquely in a show that loves making us watch characters die on screen; last time we saw Tech for sure he was alive), never gave a good reason for doing so in or out of the show, never showed us any character working through the impact of his loss (even though there was ample opportunity for Omega, especially, to do so), and ripped the “could he come back?” box wide open by parading CX-2 in front of our faces. It is never, at any point, handled like an actual main character death. It’s handled as a plot point from which the narrative moves fairly quickly, and treated by all parties as an absence. By all the rules of storytelling, Tech isn’t dead. He’s just ambiguously gone. And that means the writing team did a terrible job if what they wanted to do was kill him off. We should not be debating this after the show has ended if he’s actually dead.
2. I understand why some fans are trying to find meaning in losing Tech. I am not, because that meaning is not offered by the text itself. And, if the plan was to never bring him back, it should have been.
We are not, for example, offered a lesson about how not everyone comes home from the war. In order for that to have been the case, we would have needed to see someone, probably Omega, working through that. We would have needed to see her refusing to accept that Tech is gone—like we do in Plan 99, by the way—and slowly coming to terms with the idea that her brother isn’t coming home. But we don’t get that, not even as subtext.
Something else we could have gotten that would have worked with all the little visual reminders of Tech, empty chairs, name-drops, and even the CX-2 leading? The batch being so haunted by losing Tech and not really knowing what happened to him for sure that they start seeing him everywhere. But for that to work we would have needed, again, to see that as an explicit subplot where someone, probably Omega, again, gets really invested in the signs that Tech is coming back and even starts assuming that CX-2 is him, only to realize that she’s seeing what she wants to see and having to accept that Tech isn’t coming back, but that she can still keep Tech’s memory alive by following in his footsteps. That’s something you can kind of project onto what we’re given in the epilogue, but you do have to project it, because it’s entirely absent from the rest of the show.
As is, Tech’s sacrifice isn’t given any weight. From a narrative perspective, it was an incredibly contrived set of circumstances that accomplished nothing except punting Tech off a train, and gave Tech no choice but to remove himself from the story—exit, stage down. Losing Tech doesn’t, even sub-textually, serve as anyone’s motivation. It does nothing to move the plot or anyone’s character development forward. The primary motivators of season three were Omega’s kidnapping, Crosshair’s PTSD, and Hemlock needing to get Omega back.
Tech’s absence does nothing to move anything forward and only really serves to slow the plot down and make the others struggle to do anything because he’s not there to carry the team like he did in the first two seasons—and nothing about that would have played out any differently if Tech spent the season in a coma in a bacta tank. The only part of Tech’s sacrifice that has meaning is that he loved his family enough to offer it. And that is profound, but that’s not something that would be negated by a return because the love and the offer remain. As for his presumed death? His return couldn’t have taken meaning away from that, because the show never gave it any meaning in the first place.
And no, Tech “dying” isn’t something I have to accept. Tech isn’t a real person, he’s an idea, and an idea that didn’t come to fruition. I can point out the ways the handling of his departure didn’t work all day if I want.
3. CX-Tech was not an overly online theory. I need people to understand this. It was an assumption made by most of the casual audience. My sister, who has no contact with the fandom and doesn’t like me discussing the show at all until she’s seen it, assumed he was Tech. My brother-in-law, who was a die-hard Tech-has-to-be-dead-shut-up guy for the entire hiatus and the first half of season three, was convinced he was Tech. Every kid I’ve spoken to who watched the show thought he was Tech and is deeply confused that he got speared like that. My brother, who doesn’t even watch the show but who does walk by when I’m watching it sometimes, thought he was Tech. You can’t get more casual and away from the fandom than that.
The thing is, the answer we get isn’t that he’s not Tech. It’s, “We’re not telling.” Which means that as it currently stands, a season-and-a-half of CX buildup amounted to a five minute boss fight and a non-answer. That’s…not something that works! That’s atrocious writing if that was the whole sum of their intent all along.
And you can say, well, that was a clever misdirect! Plot twist! Except, one, misdirects and twists only work if the real answer is more satisfying than the false one, otherwise it just falls flat. Two, if it was a misdirect, it’s not one the creative team is willing to own. No one will touch the Tech-CX-2 parallels with a twenty-foot pole, except the Kiners, who have incredibly meaningful explanations for every musical choice but then say shit like, “that chord just sounds good in brass” about Battle of the Snipers (…before going on to say that the four note lose motif from “Plan 99” is Tech’s leitmotif…which is also all over Battle of the Snipers…and is only there according because the batch is divided in that scene, a scene in which Crosshair’s leitmotif is entirely absent even though he’s just supposed to be fighting his own dark side represented by a guy who’s totally not Tech. Sure. I’m going to go eat drywall.) Because acknowledging that and saying that was supposed to be Tech will just make the audience angrier, and they may not even be allowed to do so, and saying that it is Tech—you can understand why they can’t do that, right? The implications are horrific. But that horrific implication is probably what at least some of the casual audience who will never interact with the fandom or a single interview is going to walk away with.
4. The thing that bothers me most about all of this is the combined toxicity of the fandom and the leading from the marketing and social media. Part of the fandom saying that there were never any signs Tech could have survived (in Star Wars, no less) is starting to feel like gaslighting; and while I don’t think there was any malice in the leading in the marketing and social media—I’m even willing to give a tiny bit of leeway for the creative team maybe knowing something we don’t yet—it was handled badly, expectations for this season should have been set early and clearly, and as of right now it all feels like an incredibly cruel prank at autistic fans expense, whatever the intent may have been or may still be.
5. And finally, here’s the thing: I’m willing to give the writers a bit of leeway on this. I’m willing to grant that some choices may have been out of their hands for unknown reasons. I’m even willing to say that maybe they’re not really done with this story yet, that The Bad Batch could just be the first chapter of a longer show that was split up for stupid business reasons, and that the finale is the way it is because they had to have an ending of sorts without actually resolving anything. I’m willing to grant a lot of grace there. In fact, I actually think there’s a very good chance we’ll still get Tech back alive in canon, and sooner than later, if only because no one (not even the voice actors) seems happy about this, most fans are coping but disappointed at best, the creative team got asked about Tech non-stop for a solid year and a half, and the writers don’t seem at all committed. We know from the rest of the show that they know how to definitively kill a guy, and, frankly, Tech in the first two seasons comes across as something of a writer favorite. They like using him!
But whatever I’m hoping or suspecting, and whatever leeway I’m willing to grant the creative team here, the final product is all we have right now. And I am going to criticize that final product for badly handling a (presumed) character death and straight up breaking the central conceit of the show in doing so.
#the bad batch#one thing I will say#is that if I knew for sure#that ‘the cavalry has arrived’ was simply a midpoint#not really a series finale in the writers’ heads but just a season finale#and that this story was going to continue but now with more focus on Rex and Echo#with Tech as the bridge between the two series#I would not be nearly as harsh about the finale as I am#it doesn’t resolve anything it simply stops#because it had to end
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Three Nights Remain
Leona Kingscholar loves sleep more than anything else in Twisted Wonderland. So he is determined to continue sleeping all through the night when he has to host two freshmen crashing in his dorm for taking a rather stupid deal he had nothing to do with. It wasn't his problem.
Yet for some absurd reason, the three nights that the prefect stays in Savanaclaw, he doesn't get a wink.
Second Choice, Last Place
(part one) (part two) (part three) (read on AO3)
Word count: 4.5k
The moment Leona saw one of his freshmen bringing the herbivore and the weasel into his dorm, he knew that it was going to be trouble for him. He tried to avoid it as much as he could. Anything that didn’t involve him wasn’t his business, and wasn’t about to become his when it meant more work added to his plate he kept purposefully empty.
But here he was, watching his dorm get humbled by that very same freshman and strange package deal, where one wasn’t anything more than a pipsqueak and the other didn’t have a drop of magic in him. Here he was, finding that strangely enough, the person he thought would be dead last in a fight seemed oddly good at throwing down when the need arose.
Here he was, in his room, with two extra freeloaders on his couch that were much too loud and much too foolish for his taste, if they had gotten into a situation dire enough that forced them to stay here of all places. “Thank you again for letting us stay here,” the prefect said, as he made sure for the umpteenth time that his and Grim’s bags weren’t taking up any more space than they had to like a good little student.
Leona just hummed, making himself comfortable on his bed. “Don’t make me regret it.” Out of all the reactions that could have gotten out of him, the herbivore laughed. It made Leona crack open an eye to peer at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” Yuu sighed as he shrugged out of his uniform jacket, still trying to be as unimposing as possible as he draped it over his bag. “Usually I’m the one regretting things. Like this deal, for example.”
“Getting cold feet now?” Leona taunted, almost more a leer than a real question. He couldn’t help but smirk just a little. “You made your bed, herbivore. Now you gotta lay in it.”
Yuu huffed lightheartedly, the faintest hint of a smile etched on his lips. “Grim’s already taken care of that, I’m afraid.” He looked down at where the thing was already conked out, spread out on enough of the couch that it’d be a pain for the freshman to fit, too. Maybe that was the reason why he sighed, glancing down at bare wrists revealed by scrunched-up sleeves. “You wouldn’t happen to have a first-aid kit, would you?” he asked, that smile turning into something of a frown.
Another hum, as Leona eyed him through the slit he had to see through. “Didn’t know the herbivore was so easy to knock around.” He didn’t look all that beat up, but Leona could smell the tang of metallic blood in the air. Somewhere, skin had been broken. Wherever it was, he did a good job of hiding it, he’d give him that.
Maybe Leona was being a little mean. Something in him paused when the prefect’s eyes flickered, a dimmer thing flashing in them. “Didn’t know the lion took such pride in playing with his prey,” he shot back, making Leona’s second eye open as his eyebrow raised. “What a catch I am. ‘Doe-eyed and dimwitted,’ I think you put it. You must be flaunting me to everyone who’d listen as your best hunt.”
So the herbivore still had guts, even after facing beastmen full of snarling teeth and crackling spells. Leona smirked this time, tail flicking from where it was next to him. “Finally decided to drop that little act of respect, huh?”
Yuu grinned back, something twisted and dark and just evil enough to make Leona wonder if this frosh was really as out of place in this school as he originally thought. “Not at all.”
Doe-eyed, dimwitted and cheeky, he mentally added, a little more amused than he should’ve been to find out that the prefect had claws beyond just physical fights. “If I got anything, it’d be in the bathroom,” Leona finally said, trusting he wasn’t blind enough not to miss the door.
“Thank you very much, Housewarden Kingscholar.” He almost didn’t let the laugh that got out of him be anything more than another hum, but it did when Yuu somehow schooled his features to look as prim and proper as physically possible. He didn’t know how to feel about it. He could be asleep and yet here he was, laughing at some forgettable freshman’s joke.
Leona decided he’d sleep now, letting his eyes shut again. It wasn’t his problem that he had been foolish enough to make a contract with the cephalo-punk, and it wasn’t going to be. The only thing that he would contribute and take from this was a temporary lodging and a new, equally temporary servant.
But then little noises kept coming from beyond the wall—clinking and ripping and the shuffling of clothes—and he found that it was enough of a distraction to keep him awake. “Knock it off,” he called with a lazy snarl, turning onto his side. There were days that he didn’t mind his heightened senses, and then there were nights like now, when he almost wished he was as deaf as a human so that he could get to rest.
“Sorry. I’m almost done.” Leona’s ear swerved as he picked up something else. A faint gasp, the sharp inhale of a hiss. He felt a growl rising in his throat when he heard it, though he didn’t know quite what it was directed at. Irritation that he was still awake, he decided on, when another of those breaths were sucked in.
Leona dragged himself off his bed, stalking over to the doorframe. Yuu almost jumped when he saw him, making a little flash of predatory satisfaction run through the housewarden. It was accented with the smell of blood, sharper now, since the wound was exposed to the fresh air instead of covered like before. It was a gash on his arm, still weeping a thin stream of scarlet.
It wasn’t just that one place, he realized, when his eyes slid to the hand gingerly letting his bunched-up shirt fall again. There was a bandage already on his abdomen and a bruise budding on his hip, only the very edge visible from where it dipped below his pantline. Leona supposed if he looked closer, took in a deeper breath, he’d find hints of even more blood and blue on his body.
That growl returned. “You really are easy to rough up,” he scowled, eyes smoldering as he looked at the prefect. Yuu averted his for a moment, but then thought better of it, staring right back with a face that said how unafraid he was. Leona’s glower grew. He was too bold for his own good.
“I’ve managed just fine until now,” the herbivore reminded, going back to his wounds as though Leona was nothing but a shadow on the wall. He didn’t make a sound when he dabbed some sort of ointment on the cut, biting the inside of his cheek to muffle it. But Leona still caught the faint scent of pain, something just as sharp and thick as though he was feeling it himself. If he looked close enough, he could see the way the herbivore’s eyes squinted, in annoyance and exhaustion and a list of other things Leona didn’t want to list, because he shouldn’t be thinking about it anyways.
What a pain.
Yuu opened his mouth as Leona stepped closer, undoubtedly about to shoot another quip at him, but he stopped when he noticed that the housewarden had swiped a roll of bandages, ripping off just enough to wrap around his injury. His wrist was thin, Leona found himself musing when he felt the way Yuu’s heart skipped and thudded from his vein. It was almost impossible to see what he really looked like, thanks to the uniform that was at least three sizes too big for him, but even then, he wasn’t nearly as brawny as he’d imagined, to be able to take on the number of his dorm members he had and win. Then again, he would have to be small, to avoid the spells that seemed to follow him like fire streaking through dried grass.
He didn’t say anything, even as Leona tied the bandage ends together, keeping it there to cover the slice on his skin. “Thank you,” Yuu finally murmured, when Leona dropped his hands and leaned back, eyeing him a bit more. He really was puny. He couldn’t imagine that he’d be close to a filling snack to the menaces that were the Leech twins, let alone himself.
“Just stop making noise.” Yuu sighed, but the hints of a smile were on his face. Leona almost scoffed at it. The prefect started to put back together the supplies, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen into his face back again. That was when he saw it, able to look at it without distractions like other people or fights that he’d started.
Leona had known that Yuu got hurt from when he’d overblotted, but he had never been able to see just exactly what he’d done. It was the first time he was seeing it from so close up—taking in the claw marks that spread from the side of his head to the corner of his jaw, still red and still fresh, even though the tournament had been some time ago now. With how big and long the four scratches were, Leona was almost surprised that the herbivore still had an ear on that side. But miraculously, it was still there, only with a few nicks and tears to speak of.
It was healing as nicely as it could, but even so, it would no doubt hurt like no one’s business if it was put in saltwater—like the very sea he was going to dive into. That silent growl returned, but now Leona knew what it was directed at.
“You’re staring,” the prefect mused, not looking over at him as he crouched to put the kit away. “I’m done now, I promise. You can go back to sleep.”
He felt something whisper inside him, like mounds of sand were forming to weigh him down. “Change into something else,” Leona grumbled, despite the way something putrid covered his tongue like rotten meat. “Your shirt’s bloody.”
The prefect blinked, and it almost looked like he was noticing that for the first time when he caught sight of the crimson stain on its front. Leona fought the urge to make that growl audible. “I don’t really have anything else,” he admitted, looking a little embarrassed as he did.
Of course he didn’t. Whether that was because the eels didn’t give him enough time to pack, or he just never had enough clothes in the first place, Leona didn’t know. He sighed either way, feeling the telltale drag of drowsiness start to pull him back to his bed. If he didn’t get to go back to it within a few minutes, he’d be angry. “Take something of mine then,” he ended up saying, trying to make this go faster so that he could get to sleep earlier.
“Are you sure?”
Leona just eyed him in return. “Anyone with half a sense of smell in this dorm would catch a whiff of it. They’d be on you in seconds if they knew it was from you.”
It wasn’t a lie. The members of Savanaclaw were more feral than they should be some days, and it ended badly for anyone who was foolish enough to show their weakness off for others to exploit. If they knew that Leona was housing a wounded defect instead of just a defect, things would get bad for the both of them.
Only, he wasn’t either of those things. Leona didn’t know what to think as he watched Yuu tentatively open his closet while he stalked back to his bed, taking out the first shirt he thought Leona wouldn’t mind him wearing. This was a person—a herbivore—that had somehow taken him on at his stupidest, weakest, but still most powerful moment, something that he still didn’t know all the details of and didn’t want to, and won. Out of everyone in this school, Leona could count the people who were capable of that on one hand.
And yet, he still got pushed around like he was the weakest in the pride, beaten and used like a chew toy. Every time Leona had seen it, when those little spats had taken place in the botanical gardens for whatever reason, he had seen how the prefect had never fought back. He just defended himself with a look of set grimness on his face, and once his assailants were satisfied, he just went back to his day like they did. Maybe it was because he didn’t have magic. Maybe it was for some other reason, but all Leona knew and cared to know was that that was the way of the world. Those not favored were always second choice, and those not gifted were always last place.
Leona’s eyes narrowed as the prefect reappeared again, gently scooting Grim away for him to have enough space to curl up. Except, he didn’t. He reached down for his bag, pulling out a stack of documents thick as Leona’s wrist.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, a snarl in his voice. It was too far past when he should have been asleep. It was too far past when the prefect should have been asleep, if Leona cared, but now he was starting yet another thing to keep them awake.
Yuu gave him a smile. Even in the dim light, Leona could see how it was strained, speaking of how desperately he wanted to drift off, too. “You can turn off the light. I won't disturb you.”
“That’s what your words are sayin’, but that’s telling a different story,” Leona countered, shooting an icy look at the papers. There was no reasonable way that a freshman should have that much of anything, homework or dorm responsibilities or anything else.
He didn’t put them away, much to Leona’s annoyance. He couldn’t read the text on it from his position, so he couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but he had a sneaking suspicion about it when Yuu sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “They have to get done by the end of the week,” was all he told Leona, an apologetic tone woven into his voice. Leona met it with an unimpressed stare. “Pretend I’m not here. I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”
Leona’s eyes narrowed. Yuu tried to give him a sheepish smile, and that was finally the thing that made Leona relent, rolling his eyes as he let his head fall on his pillows. “You’d better be.” The last thing the prefect did before Leona made the light go out with a wave of his hand was put a finger to his lips, already displaying how silent he could be.
It wasn’t his problem, and it wasn’t his mess to clean up. So Leona let his eyes close, nestling just a little further into his bed to get comfortable. But he found himself keeping his ears alert, pricked and swerved just the right way to pin down the herbivore’s every noise. He really was quiet, Leona would give him that—the only thing he could pick up for the most part, even with his inhuman hearing, was the faint scribble of a pen and the occasional louder exhale of a weak sigh.
At one point, there was something a little off. The air changed in a way Leona couldn’t quite place, making everything smell and sound and feel different. Then there was the sound of a cork uncapping a bottle, a whispered swallow, the rustling of a jacket as something was taken out or put back into his bag. Everything changed to normal a few seconds later, as though the strange abnormality had never happened. Leona chalked it up to his half-asleep state playing tricks on him, when he wasn’t quite sure what was real and what wasn’t.
But the sounds continued. Every time Leona thought that he was finally done, as a silence dragged out for long enough that he felt himself slipping into complete sleep, something would always break it. The resuming of writing on paper, or a little murmur so breathy Leona couldn’t even call it a whisper.
Finally at his wit’s end, Leona let his scarred eye open, peering through the night to catch a glimpse of the herbivore. He doubted that the prefect had moved from his position in all the time they’d spent in darkness. If he had, Leona couldn’t tell—he still was hunched over his papers, pen moving as though it were the last thing keeping the world from ending. He’d gotten through a good portion of it, at the very least. The stack at his feet that Leona assumed were the finished ones was thicker than he’d expected it would be, especially when he could hardly see in the dark as well as Leona could. Efficiency seemed to be one of his strong suits, if nothing else.
Yuu stopped as he finished the sheet he’d been working on, staring down at the ones on the ground with a dull look in the eyes that otherwise glowed like two ghostly blue stars. Leona could practically hear the gears turning in the herbivore’s head, screaming and clicking from the lack of oil rest would give them. And then he stopped, listening to his mind's pleas by joining the two stacks together before storing them back in his bag. Leona breathed a sigh.
Only for the prefect to pull out another stack of papers.
Enough was enough. “What,” Leona hissed, making Yuu jump at how a single emerald fire was aimed at him from the dark, “are you doing.”
“My homework,” he answered, too surprised to lie. It took another snarl from Leona to finally make Yuu come to his senses, albeit if he had any. “I thought you were asleep.”
“You can see just how right you are, can’t you?” Leona could hear the way Yuu’s breath hitched when he lifted his head, raising up to glare at the freshman. “Wasn’t that other stack it?”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “No. That was— that wasn’t.” Yuu seemed scared. Good. It reflected in his eyes as Leona sat up further, silently demanding a better answer out of him. “They’re from the headmage,” he admitted, fidgeting with his hands under the housewarden’s smoldering gaze.
“‘Course they are.” It almost sounded like Leona wasn’t convinced, with the venom starting to seep into his voice. He was more surprised that the birdbrain would trust a job like that to a freshman with no place in the world and no magic to his name. Maybe that was exactly why, he realized, as he remembered that Crowley was the reason why the herbivore had even been investigating him in the first place.
It clicked then, what Yuu's role was in everything. Of course—he was someone unnoticeable and disposable. And Leona’s anger surprisingly changed to a new target, as he recognized just how little say the student in front of him had in anything. But no one in the room had to know about that. “Put them away,” he ordered, giving the papers such a heated look it wouldn’t be surprising if they spontaneously combusted. Yuu opened his mouth to speak, to no doubt argue with him, but Leona stopped it with another hair-raising snarl. “Now.”
Yuu gave him a look that only seemed half-annoyed, with how worry and fear was taking up the rest of his brainpower. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Stop talking.” Yuu immediately listened, closing his mouth without another word. So now he had some common sense. “Lay down ‘n sleep,” Leona told him, narrowing his eyes more for every second that passed where he didn’t. “I’m not askin’, and I’m not saying it again.”
Leona watched with eyes that didn’t miss a thing as Yuu did as he said, making sure there was no way for him to worm his way out of it again. Maybe he should start calling the herbivore the weasel instead of the pipsqueak, he thought with an almost sarcastic tone. He was small and slippery enough to be one.
Finally, the freshman seemed like he was done. So Leona laid back down again, hoping for sleep at last. “Sorry,” the herbivore mumbled, not-quite-quiet enough for Leona to miss.
His eyes opened again from where they had almost closed shut, feeling those sand dunes press down on his chest again. “Go to bed,” he answered, in a voice that was not quite as harsh as before.
The prefect shifted one more time, readjusting the blanket draped over his body for one final last noise of the evening. “Good night.”
Leona sighed, forcing himself to stop staring at the ceiling and listening to the prefect. Some sleep he was getting.
Once Yuu and his gang of freshmen disappeared from campus, Leona returned to his room instead of his regular spot in the botanical gardens. He’d been tipped off by the herbivore’s frantic studying to know that there were going to be one too many classes there for him to stomach, so he returned to his room instead, peacefully and blissfully quiet without his two extra roommates.
And yet, he did not sleep. For some strange reason, Leona dug through his possessions, without rhyme or reason, trying to remember where it was that Ruggie told him he’d stored a particular group of stuff. Of course, he’d been falling asleep, so he hardly remembered what the sophomore had said to him. At the time, Leona hadn’t cared in the slightest, but he supposed he was a little ticked off at his past self now, when he’d rummaged through enough places and thrown enough things around that he wanted to just stop and get in his afternoon nap.
Then, finally, in the last few seconds Leona had grumbled to himself he’d spend doing this, he found it, left to gather dust in a box in an unused room. Anyone without magic or muscle would have been doomed to get buried in all the discarded things, which was why Leona had held off looking in there until he was completely sure that was the only place it could be. It really was for the best that Yuu and Grim roomed with him, Leona found himself thinking, before he threw the thought out of his head.
He’d done more than enough for today, Leona decided. So he haphazardly threw it onto one of the many piles of things scattered amongst his floor and slunk back to his bed, hoping to catch a few winks before Ruggie came looking for him for lunch.
No one at this school pulled any punches, Yuu found, even for those younger and weaker than them. Any other day, under any other circumstances, she would have respected that. But now, when she was tired and cold and sore, Yuu just wanted to go back to her moth-eaten bed and let the world crumble around her.
“You’re not done yet,” Ruggie chimed, noticing how Yuu and Grim were about to fall back onto Leona’s couch and pass out, even though it was littered with mess. “We gotta clean, then you can conk out.”
Of course. Yuu sighed, grabbing Grim by the scruff to pick him up again and set him on the ground, too tired to speak. “This feels messier than last night,” she mused despite herself, knowing it was probably a little rude, but exhaustion removing her filter.
“It always seems that way when it’s your job to clean up.” Yuu hummed, grabbing any and all laundry nearby to throw in the hamper. If nothing else, she could try to be quick. Then she could get to the mountain of paperwork she still needed to do, between her homework and the papers Crowley had assigned to her.
The last few rays of sun trickled in through his balcony, and Yuu couldn’t help but pause for a second, watching the great ball of fire descend to the horizon. She only had two more days to achieve the impossible. It would have been difficult enough with a month, but with only three sunsets given to her, Yuu had half the mind to just curl into a ball and let herself give up.
But she couldn’t. Yuu wasn’t the only one standing to lose something now. It was the mess she’d told her friends she’d help them get out of, so it was her burden to bear. Yuu sighed, rolling her shoulders to hopefully shake some of the aching soreness in them from swimming the entire day, and got back to work. Leona did nothing but watch with half-lidded eyes, lazily following their movements as the two of them cleaned while Ruggie oversaw.
Once the rest of the room was devoid of things haphazardly tossed around, Yuu moved onto Leona’s desk, seeing that there was clutter still near its surroundings. She hadn’t meant to pry, but when she carefully took the blanket that was draped over the table into her hands, folding it absentmindedly, her eyes dragged across the words of the opened book below.
And then they widened. “Leona,” she called, feeling a spark of hope ignite in her for the first time in weeks, “are these your textbooks?”
His eyes had closed, and they did not reopen at her query. “What’s it matter?”
It wasn’t a yes. But it wasn’t a no, either. “Could I borrow them for tonight?” Yuu asked, glancing down at Grim when he made his way over. Hopefully he didn’t miss the silent plea she’d given him to start reading, just in case Leona suddenly got up and snatched them away.
Not that he'd do that. Or maybe he would. After last night, Yuu wasn’t really sure where his boundaries were in what did and didn’t make him mad. But the housewarden just hummed, not bothered enough to give her a proper answer. It wasn’t a no. “Thank you,” she breathed, taking them in her hands as though they were the most fragile glass and bringing them back to her makeshift bed.
“You’re still doin’ homework?” Grim exclaimed, the hint of disapproval in his voice. “We’re not even goin’ to class, minion. There’s no point.”
“We’ll still have to learn the material,” she countered, only half present in the conversation. The last of her attention on her surroundings disappeared when Ruggie snickered, echoing in her ears like the whispers of sand grains shifting against each other. Maybe tonight, she could finish her homework before such an unreasonable hour.
And Leona watched through that one hardly-opened eye, as the last of the light disappeared from inside his four walls, and yet the prefect still worked.
#first time posting fic on tumblr so fingers crossed the formatting is okay!!#this is both so much easier and so much harder than doing it on ao3#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland x yuu#twisted wonderland x mc#leona kingscholar#yuu#twst yuu#leona kingscholar x yuu#leona kingscholar x reader#three nights remain#cloudedgalaxies
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Will Graham X Reader: Academic validation
Warnings: smut, switch reader x switch will, use of pet names (darling, baby), drinking, fluff, making out, cowgirl, penetration (p in v), cowgirl, oral (f receiving), handjob, female anatomy, gender neutral reader no use of y/n.
Word Count: 2,5K
You really should be paying attention to the lecture. And boy were you trying to but his fucking hands. His fucking hands were driving you insane. Every time he fidgeted with them as he spoke or used them to point out a particular aspect of the crime he was analyzing you found yourself distracted.
It wasn’t hard to have a crush on Will. He was an attractive guy. An attractive slightly older guy who passed off a sort of touch starved vibe. You had a thing for guys like that. The only problem was that he was your teacher. All though you didn’t think that should matter. You were an adult who was capable of making your own choices and so was Will. The real issue was the way that your little crush had started affecting your learning. You tried to pay attention to what Will was saying but as soon as your eyes caught a glimpse of his lips you could help but think of kissing him. You were so deep in thought you didn't notice him finish his lecture. And you didn’t notice as your colleagues shuffled out of the classroom. Your head snapped up at the sound of someone calling your name. Your eyes found Will's frame. He was sitting on top of his desk, eyes locked onto you. You stared at him in silence.
“You okay?”
His brows furrowed in worry as he continued to observe you. Gosh he was cute like this. You shook your head letting out a small laugh.
“Yeah. Sorry Mr.Graham must have gotten caught up in my own head.”
“Will’s fine.”
“Sorry what?”
“Oh uh you can just call me Will.”
“Oh okay Will. I’ll get out of your hair.”
You picked up your textbook, shoving it in your bag before moving down the steps towards Will's desk. You gave him a small smile as you made your way to the door.
“Are you sure you're okay?”
His question made you freeze. You turned around so that you were facing him. His hands were pushed up against his desk drawing attention to his muscles. You bit the inside of your cheek forcing yourself to focus on his face.
“Why do you ask?”
“I just noticed you haven’t been yourself lately. You usually participate a lot in class. But you’ve been really quiet this past week. It got me wondering.”
“Can i be honest?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind the last few days and I'm having trouble keeping up in class. I didn't want to say anything because I know what everyone will say.”
“What will they say?”
“That I'm not cut out for this.”
Will let out an understanding hum. He pushed his body off the desk, turning his back to you as he made his way to his chair. You watched him, taking in how his body moved. On instinct you found yourself moving towards his desk. It was as if there was some invisible force pulling you to him.
“When I started teaching people thought I wasn't gonna last a week. They thought I was too odd. Too sensitive to handle a classroom dynamic. Do you know what I did?”
You shake your head.
“I proved them wrong.”
Will grinned at you and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. A moment of silence passed over the room. Will was deep in thought. You could tell just by looking at him. You thought of going on your way but before you could move Will started to speak once more.
“Show me what you’re having a hard time with.”
“Oh no, I couldn't possibly do that. You have to go home and i-”
“Do you have plans?”
You didn’t, not unless you count eating dinner alone and watching a movie before bed as plans.
“You’re sure I won't be a bother?”
“Not at all. Believe it or not I actually enjoy teaching. Could you just do me a favor first?”
“Yeah sure, what do you need?”
“Close the door will you?”
You placed your bag on Will’s desk before walking to the door. You stuck your head out looking at the empty hall. You shut the door carefully before turning around. Your eyes fell on Will's frame. He was sitting on his desk, his hand slicking back his hair as he waited for you.
You were stuck in a room with Will Graham.
What had you gotten yourself into?
It turns out there was a lot more you’d missed then you had anticipated. Will didn’t seem to mind though. He went over every case you didn’t remember and never judged you for missing any clues. Even if they were kind of obvious. After a while the two of you drifted into other topics. You told Will about your life and he shared stories of his dogs. At some point Will had pulled out a bottle of whiskey from his desk and everything seemed to go downhill from there.
You were currently sitting on the floor desperately trying to breathe in between laughs. Will had just told you about the time Winston had run away and gotten sprayed by a skunk.
“ I couldn't get the smell out of the house for a week. And the other dogs didn’t want to go near him. They treated him like he was contagious.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I swear!”
The sound of yours and Will's laugh filled the room again. He let out a deep sigh, finally managing to regain his breath. When you met his gaze he had a smile plastered on his face.
“What is it?”
“Oh nothing. It’s just been a while since I've done something like this.”
“What, gotten drunk in a classroom?”
“Had a fun time with someone.”
Your stomach did a flip at Will's words. You knew he wasn’t a typically social guy but you imagined he had friends. You’d seen him talking to Dr.Bloom a couple of times and couldn’t help but notice how he looked at him.
It was the same way you looked at him.
“Hey.”
Will placed his hand on yours leaning his head to the side.
“Did I say something?”
“No. Sorry. Just having a hard time believing you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nevermind. I should get going. It's getting late.”
You rose from the ground. Will mirrored your movements, rising to his feet as well. You downed the last of your drink, placing your cup down on Wills desk. You accidentally knocked your bag down in the process, causing your things to go spilling out everywhere.
“Oh fuck me.”
“Here let me help.”
Will crouched down beside you helping you gather your things. The two of you moved without paying too much attention, the alcohol in your system making you clumsy. Somehow you managed to knock your head into Will's nose.
“Oh shit sorry Will.”
“It’s okay.”
“No it’s not. You might be bleeding. Here let me take a look.”
You guided Will to his chair, your things forgotten on the floor. He sat down, his hand still applying pressure to his nose. You placed a hand on top of him, guiding him to let go. He understood your request. Your fingers moved carefully over his nose, trying to see if anything was bruised. Will hissed as you touched a tender spot.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m not a doctor but i don't think anything is broken. And you're not bleeding so you should be fine.”
Instinctively you placed your hand on Will's cheek. You watched him close his eyes, learning into your touch. Slowly Will opened his eyes. His blue orbs bore into you. He was looking up at you with puppy eyes. Your breath sped up at the sight. His lips parted slightly to whisper your name. Will's hand moved to the back of your leg. He pushed your body closer to his, hand wrapping around your thigh. You lifted your leg allowing him to guide you onto his lap. Will moved his head to the side, moving to kiss your wrist. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as he continued to kiss down your arm. A gasp left your mouth as Will pressed his face into your chest, his arms wrapping around your back as he desperately tried to be closer to you. You could feel his tongue though the fabric of your shirt. The feeling caused you to throw your head back as your hands made their way into Will’s curls. You heard him call your name again making you look down at him. He had his head against your chest, his beautiful blue eyes staring up at you.
“Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
Will pulled you down into him, allowing the two of you to be face to face. The kiss was gentle and far too quick for your liking. Your lips parted for each other. Will put his hand on your cheek. His thumb moved over your lips, caressing them. You opened your mouth, tongue darting out to lick the tip of his digit. Will let out a shuddered breath at the action. You smirked at him.
“You should be careful darling. You don’t know who you’re playing with.”
“Oh yeah? Why don’t you show me?”
The grin that made its way onto Will's face could only be described as wolfish. Before you knew it Will had risen from his seat and placed you on the ground. He wasted no time working his way into your pants. You gasped as his fingers played with your folds.
“This wet already?”
“In all honesty i’ve been wet since we started talking.”
“Jesus baby.”
“I think about you a lot. In class. In bed. Anywhere really.”
“Oh yeah? And what do you think about?”
“Your hands, your back, what you’d look like naked.”
“So that's why you’re behind? Been to busy thinking of fucking me to pay attention.”
“Yes…”
Will tugged at your pants, pulling them down your leg. You lifted your hips to help him out. He lent down, placing a kiss to your thighs and you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. Will grazed his teeth against your skin and then continued to kiss the spot.
“Will, please.”
“What do you want?”
“Anything, just please give me something.”
“Only cause you’ve been good.”
A moan broke from your lips as Will's tongue moved over your folds. You placed your hand over your face, head turning to the side as Will ate you out. He was skilled. A lot more skilled than you’d imagined him to be. The way his tongue moved over your pussy had you screaming out for him. Your sounds seemed to spur him on because whenever you let out a yelp, Will would focus all his energy into that spot. His palm was splayed against your chest, fingers gripping at your breast.
You wrapped your hands around Will's wrist dragging his hand up to your face. You placed two of his fingers into your mouth sucking on them eagerly. Will let out a grunt at the feeling, his hips moving against the carpet for some much needed friction. You watched him hump the carpet like a dog in heat and you couldn’t help but want to pleasure him too. You wanted to make him feel as good as he was making you feel because he deserved it. But at the moment you were far more focused on cumming.
“Will, baby, I'm so close…”
“Yeah. You gonna cum for me?”
“Ah Will-shit ugh-please.”
Will seemed to know exactly what you were begging for. He placed a kiss on your clit as he inserted two fingers into you. The combination of his fingers inside you, his tongue on you and the sight of the blissed out look on his face had you cumming in seconds. You yelled out his name, your hand tugging on his curls as you came. Will laid down beside you as you came down from your high. His hand went to his dick, tugging at his pants in an attempt to get some relief. You tried to catch your breath, tilting your head to look at Will. You noticed how he fidgeted with his hard on. You called out his name, making him tilt his head to look at you.
“What is it?”
“Touch yourself for me.”
Will hesitated for a moment, eyes searching for your approval.
“It’s okay baby, you can touch yourself. It’s your reward for making me feel good.”
It was funny how quickly you managed to switch roles and by the look on Will's face you could tell he enjoyed it. Will opened his zipper, his hand moving to free his member. You inched closer to him, nuzzling your face into the croak of his neck. Will whined as he started stroking his dick. You unbuttoned his shirt, placing your hand on his skin. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he continued to pleasure himself.
“That’s it baby.”
“Oh fuck. Want to…”
“Tell me what you need, Will.”
“Need to be inside of you.”
“Okay, since you’ve been a good boy. I’ll give you what you want.”
You pushed your body off the ground, moving to be on your hands and knees. You crawled over Will's body maneuvering yourself so you were hovering over his dick. You placed your hands on his chest bracing yourself. Will humped into you causing his dick to nudge against your cunt.
“Ah ah patience Will.”
“Sorry.”
Slowly you sank down onto his dick. His hands gripped your hips instinctively. You let out a breath, trying to adjust to his size. You clenched around Will, making him grunt at the feeling. You lifted your hips before dropping back down. Will moved in unison with you, his hand playing with your nipples as you continued to ride him. Your nails dug into his chest as you moved, the sounds he was letting out only spurring you on. You could feel your upcoming orgasm causing you to fasten your movements.
“Fuck i’m gonna cum. Gotta get out darling.”
Will moved to tug you on him but you sank your nails into his shoulders. He looked up at you with a startled look.
“I’m on the pill. Cum inside just please…fill me up. I want you to fill me up.”
You had no idea what your words did to him but it became clear a few seconds later. You barely had time to register Wills orgasm before your own ripped through you. You sagged onto his chest exhaustion finally catching up to you. Will placed a kiss on your neck before nuzzling his nose into you. You caressed his chest as you two tried to recover.
“Think you’ll be able to pay attention in class now?”
“No fucking way.”
Will's laugh filled the room, his vibrating against yours. You couldn’t help but grin at the sound.
#smut#smut fanfiction#smut tag#will graham x you#will graham smut#will graham x reader#will x reader#will graham#nbc hannibal#hannibal fanfiction#hannibal lecter#hannibal#hannibal tv show#hannibal smut#hugh dancy#hugh dancy smut
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