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weepingvoidpenguin · 3 years ago

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Unfortunately Yours

Summary: When you and Bucky successfully infiltrate a HYDRA auction, you’re told to stay another day due to max capacity on the jet. But how are you going to survive a night alone with this insufferable Super Soldier? Especially considering the miniscule size of the room and the obvious dilemma presented; who gets the bed?

Warning: S M U T , the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, language, spit kink, daddy kink, ptsd symptoms, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, hate-s e x, rough, more like enemies-to-lovers kind of thing, gagging, m!receiving, f!receiving, lots of receiving lol, 18+, M

Word Count: 10.6K (Whhhyyyyy)

Your body burned with exhaustion and the sheer weight of your extremities felt enough to drag you to the floor and mirror a coma with the length of your hibernation. You no longer had the minimal strength required to pick up your feet properly which resulted in the sound of shuffling to fill the small, and by small you meant miniscule, room you’d been assigned to.

Well, you and Bucky had been assigned to.

You’d both played your parts well enough over the course of the last few hours. You’d sauntered into the ran-shacked looking bar with Bucky’s arm tossed lazily over your shoulder, his distaste for the assignment evident on his face, but he’d cleared it away the second his foot crossed the threshold. He pulled you in tighter to his body and raised his chin into the air, emitting the energy of a man not to be trifled with. You’d portrayed your role as a damsel just as, if not more, convincing as Barnes’ opposite. Your shoulders hunched over and your steps were small and quivering, the wig on your head a tool used to curtain the hair in your face.

You were the lamb to this White Wolf.

Word had traveled through the dark and twisted grapevine that a certain showing of sorts took place tonight and a high-ranking target was rumored to be amongst its audience. You and Barnes were on the first flight to Germany within minutes.

Bucky had pulled you through the crowd moving along to the thundering music in the background and halted at the edge of the bar. His grip on your shoulder tightened once he’d caught the man’s attention and you winced, his fingers digging a little too deep for your liking.

The bartender scanned you over and took in your frame, making you feel smaller than you had already displayed yourself to be. It took him a while to conclude but when he took in Bucky’s domineering gaze, a look as if to say Deny me, I dare you, he nodded once and wrote something down on a napkin, sliding it over to Bucky.

Scum. All of them.

You nearly blew your cover trying to throw Bucky a look but you refrained from the hellfire clawing its way out of you. You had to be perfectly in control, emotions and beliefs aside. You were a damsel and you had to make certain they believed that. You knew they were watching; they always were.

“Relax,” Bucky hissed, pulling you under his arm and bringing his lips to your ear.

“When you pretend you’re the one being put up for auction, then you can tell me to relax,” you muttered, never looking up from the ground.

“I have been.” When you paused your movement, he pulled away to scan the room, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I promise.” He led you backstage and turned the corner to a dimly lit hallway, barren of any decoration in sharp contrast to every other section of the building, “Besides, once they realize how insufferable you are, they’ll be begging me to take you back,”

He opened an iron door and pushed you into the room, sending you tumbling down onto the carpet. He tsked, stepping over you and not looking back after shutting the door behind himself. You counted thirteen pairs of feet and judging by the way some of them were turned towards you, they had to be watching. You observed your hands for a second, counting slowly until you figured you’d stalled long enough and sent your trembling gaze to the exit. Bucky let out a low chuckle and clasped his hand around your upper arm, launching you back onto your feet and twisting your body to face him.

Oh, darling, German fluently escaped his tongue and you nearly rolled your eyes at the condescending tone settled in his words, You know better than that, don’t you?

His hold tightened and you winced, holding back the whimper in your throat. If you saw any hint of a bruise forming on your arm, you would give him hell later . . . and possibly even if you didn’t.

You bit your tongue and let him lead you towards a leather chair before he pulled you swiftly down onto his lap where his hand remained on your thigh, brushing the inside softly. Had you not been so annoyed, you’d have been humiliated at all the stares devouring the scene unfolding before them.

Good girl, he drawled and pressed your back flat up against his chest where he could put you on display.

You knew you should’ve been annoyed, or at least settled so into your role as his temporary whore-for-sale that the sensation coming alive between your thighs shouldn’t have made an appearance. But sometimes, the way Bucky brought his voice down real low and cooed an insult or jest your way just had an affect that your body would not deny. It kept you awake a lot.

Instead, you swallowed hard and let yourself be splayed against him. You ignored the scent of sandalwood in his cologne.

Your body trembled from the cold breeze floating around in the room and you shifted in Bucky’s lap to block everyone’s sight from the way your chest reacted to the change in temperature.

Don’t be shy, he murmured and removed your arms from your breasts, letting the thin, practically see-through fabric show you to the world.

“Buc-” You started, your panic creeping through the cracks at the cheshire sneers sent your way, but at the first sign of your discomfort, he retracted his hands and twisted you around gently, throwing your legs over the side of the chair and spreading them but forcing your upper half to face him. Effectively, cutting your chest off from their line of sight.

You trembled out a sigh and he grabbed your face tightly, drawing your eyes to his. He examined you, his hardened gaze shouting words he couldn’t currently say. But you understood. He could be a jerk, but he wasn’t a bad man.

Your body instinctively leaned into him for warmth as another breeze engulfed you, resulting in a shiver that made its way up your spine. “Are they still looking?” you inquired and he gripped your neck with a ferocity that made you squirm in his lap. Fuck.

He pulled your ear to his lips and licked the helix. You whimpered. “No,” he whispered, running his thumb along your jawline, “But if you don’t quit fucking squirming you’re gonna have a problem, Doll,”

You opened your mouth in question when you felt a sudden twitch on your backside and you swallowed. Hard. He never broke eye contact with you, instead choosing to raise a brow in mocking. Your chest heaved up and down and how you could feel his breath grazing on your cheek almost had you rubbing your legs together for some form of desperate friction. No, you had to keep yourself composed, keep the act going. But he’d seen it. All of it.

You nod your head and slowed your breathing down until he released his grip around your throat and turned his attention towards the dim stage. You leaned back into him and followed suit, making sure to keep your attention downcast and appear disheveled.

“There,” Bucky whispered after a few minutes and you lifted your head only to find the man you had come all this way for walking straight towards you.

Like a moth to a flame.

“How much?” The older man inquired, his grotesque gaze settled on your spread legs.

Bucky looked up at the balding man as if this was the first time he’d noticed his presence, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

The man lifted his brow, or what would’ve been, and smiled wickedly, “I’ll give you double your price if you give her to me now,” he offered, his eyes slithering up to the apex of your thighs and this time you didn’t have to fake the shiver running up your spine.

A small smirk formed on Bucky’s face and he waved his hand dismissively at him, “Get in line,”

The old man sneered but Bucky was right, most everyone had their attention fixated on what was happening currently and it was apparent there was, indeed, a line.

Bucky rested his gloved hand on your upper thigh and gripped tight, whether to refrain from hitting the guy or just to touch you, he wasn’t sure but he couldn’t keep you away when the man said, “I’ll give you four times the asking price but I want her now,”

Bucky’s grip on your thigh tightened and you squeaked at the pain, jumping slightly in his lap. “How about I give her to you for free for ten minutes and you tell me if you can handle her,”

You jerked your head towards Bucky and furrowed your brows. Free? Dick. You nearly scoffed.

The man gripped onto your calf and you shifted to kick his hand away when Bucky’s own shot out and and ripped his off of you, “Don’t touch my stuff,” he spit and the man let out a yell but that only spurred Bucky on and he tightened his fist, “Until terms are agreed upon, she remains mine to do with as I please. Understood?”

The man nodded hastily and Bucky threw you off his lap when he stood up. “Anyone else?” Bucky shouted to the room, daring others to test his limits when it came to you. After a few moments of silence Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t fucking think so,”

Bucky’s grip on the man remained and he stared down at the hunched figure, “Now, you,” he addressed and the room remained silent. This was allowed here.

Normally, merchandise couldn’t be touched until it was purchased. No buying before the auction, no discussing what you’re offering, no negotiating but most importantly don’t try to steal from anyone. These are criminals and that being said, they handle things amongst themselves. They know the rules and the risks they take breaking them.

So, when Bucky drags the poor bastard away, you follow right behind him. Not a protest to be heard. Bucky throws open the door we entered through and finds the nearest room before chucking the HYDRA agent inside and locking the door behind you.

The room was brightly lit, with all four walls a dull cream color and dark brown couches strewn casually about. There’s no real order to this place. All cement corners and LED bulbs. Pure business.

“Let ‘em know,” Bucky orders and you turn around to argue only to find the man pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket.

You jerk suddenly and kick Bucky square in the stomach, launching him towards one of the couches just as a shot rings out. You blanch at the sound, the noise filling your head and drowning everything else out. You hear yelling but you can’t make out the words, only the panic intermingled within them. Your hand reaches out around you and you grip the small button lined into your thin clothing, pressing it four times how you’d been instructed.

Everything moved slowly and people began filing into the room. How did they get here so fast? No. It wasn’t possible, they were a quarter mile down the road, there was no way they were your backup.

Hands began flying in the air and you were picked up and dropped multiple times, each time landing harder than the last. You tried to blink back the spinning but the blows landing on your face and torso made it all the worse.

Instinctively, you threw your hands up to protect your face and fought to find some footing to help. Bucky was good but he wasn’t a God, he would need help. When the first blow met your forearms you reached out to grasp the hand and used your other to drive your fist right into the person’s nose. The bone crunched under your blow.

You took a hit, then another when you managed to analyze the enemy’s fight pattern and waited until he left himself open before driving your knee into his rib cage. He bent over in pain and you grabbed him by the hair, hearing another crack when you shoved your elbow upwards against his nose.

You heard a shout and whipped your head over to see Bucky on his back, a looming figure with a gun aimed straight towards him. You galvanized towards them and threw yourself in the air, using your weight to kick him off of Bucky when another shot rang out.

Bucky shot up and crushed the gun with his metal arm. You scoured the room for the familiar HYDRA agent but found him nowhere. You shot out of the room, knocking into an opposing wall as you turned the corner and ducked when the sound of a bullet whizzed past you.

This is not going good. You had lost your target and rummaged through room after room until you’d become lost. Fuck. Where the hell did he run off to? You winced after breaking out into a sprint but pressed on, not allowing yourself to slow down. There was no way you were going to fail this mission, especially after coming so close to success.

Sweat trailed down your face and your muscles screamed at you to halt, their exhaustion beginning to wear you down. Your breathing grew rapid and your vision blurred and just as you went to lean on a wall to rest, your shoulder exploded out in pain and you collapsed with a cry.

“Dirty whore,” the HYDRA man seethed, a cane raised over his head. He brought it down and you spun to the side, feeling the air breeze past your ear.

Your hand latched onto the cane and you shoved it into his gut, pushing him away. SHIELD wanted this guy alive, so alive they would receive him. That didn’t mean he had to come in one piece though.

You tore the walker out of his hand just as he tumbled onto his ass. You stood up, grunting along the way and hovered over his body, fear sprawled along his features.

“You can either stay still or get beat with your own cane, it’s your choice,” you offered, aching to bring the walker down onto his face. “Please test me. Please.” You begged.

His gaze shifted between you and the weapon and he brought his trembling hands up in defeat. He must’ve been an agent of some Intelligence branch because his fighting abilities were evidently subpar at best.

You sighed, sad to see the opportunity go but brought the cane down none the less. “That’s unfortunate,”

You turned your attention to the sound of running coming around the corner and moved to drag and hide your captive in a nearby closet only to roll your eyes when Bucky came ‘round. You tossed the cane back and forth between your hands and smiled proudly towards the agent on the floor.

“Look who I caught,” you toyed and were met with a grunt.

“Only because you let him get away,” he retorted, pulling the balding man up to his feet.

Everything began to slow and the hellfire you’d kept under mounds of ice had finally melted through its freezing cage. “What?”

He turned his back towards you and trudged the hesitant man behind him towards the exit.

“I said,” you hollered, not caring how the halls carried your echo, “What?”

“I heard what you said,” he called back to you, not bothering to turn around.

And there you were left, frozen and dumbfounded for five solid minutes before you could pull yourself together enough to stomp your way back towards the rendezvous point. You remained hazy for the most part while debriefing. You tried to recount everything but the way your anger engulfed you in its flame obscured your memory so you kept it short.

It was quickly brought up that SHIELD captured more HYDRA agents than expected and were gonna be at max capacity so you and Bucky had to stay at a base a few miles down the road. You grumbled in compliance but Bucky didn’t respond, not even a godforsaken grunt.

What SHIELD had failed to mention though, was that this bunker was clearly meant for one. It barely counted as a room. There was a small bathroom in the corner just big enough for a shower and toilet. No sink. And a small counter with just enough space for a stove, microwave and radio. If you were to lay down vertically or horizontally you’d nearly be touching wall each way. Not to mention the singular bed.

And that’s how you got to where you were now. Miniscule room. Exhausted body. Drained mind. Patience long gone.

You huffed and dropped your bag in front of the entrance before walking to the bathroom and turning to slam the door closed. You turned the faucet on and ripped the wig off, discarding your clothes in a pile before stepping into the shower. The warm water was nice and welcoming but your body already felt aflame so you twisted the knob and held your breath when the cold stream trickled down your body. It was difficult to breathe at first, but your body soon adjusted to the temperature and you began wiping the muck off your skin with the bar of soap supplied. But that’s all the was supplied. Clearly, this place was meant to be a quick pit stop.

You sat on the hard floor as the water streamed onto your body. You could nearly fall asleep to its rhythm; It was only when your head hit the wall that you realized you were so you begrudgingly stood up and shut off the water. You grabbed the only towel in the bathroom and pat yourself dry, noticing just then that you left your clothes outside.

You let out a long sigh and twisted open the doorknob to find Bucky toying with the radio on the counter; not even purposefully, just looking for something to do while he waited.

You opened your mouth to ask him to hand you your bag but after what he said to you earlier you’d sooner eat hot coals than ask him to do anything for you. You stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped neatly around your chest and you bent over to open your bag. The shuffling on the radio stopped.

“You could’ve at least left me some warm water,” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes.

You searched in your bag for the fresh clothes residing there only to turn around when you found them and have the bathroom door shut in your face.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You shouted, pounding your fist against the door.

You could hear the water running and you groaned, pounding harder. The door opened for a split second and you were hit in the face with the clothes you’d left inside only for it to instantly be slammed shut again.

You punched the door with all the frustration built up over the past few hours and felt the wood crack with your force. Why did this man have to be incredibly baffling? You were not nearly paid enough to deal with such an unbearable partner. He would have you bald from stress before you knew it.

You spent the next few minutes grumbling to yourself after you changed and scribbled your frustration onto a small notebook you took with you everywhere. It was only when you heard the water shut off did you remember something. You still had the only towel. A villainous smirk tugged at your lips and you placed the folded towel on the edge of the bed, away from the door.

Then you heard the creak. “I will walk out naked if you don’t give me the towel,” Bucky threatened.

You shrugged despite him not being able to see you from your position on the bed, “I’ll just laugh at your dick,”

“You weren’t laughing earlier,” he shot back.

Oh. So he did remember. Good. You thought he’d gotten amnesia within the past few hours, maybe he was just too ashamed to mention it.

“Too disgusted to insult. Plus, I was playing a character,”

“Fine,” he responded and quickly came into view, haughtily sauntering over to your side and you shouted.

“Dear God!” You held the towel up to block your sight of his barren body. It was disgusting. He was all wet, hair dripping onto his muscled torso, water gleaming off his taut skin, 5 o’clock shadow drenched and straight out of a wet dream. Jesus.

“Prude,” he commented, snatching the towel from your grasp and wrapping it around himself.

“Respectable,” you corrected, crossing your arms and shoving him away. “You get the floor,”

He lifted his duffle off the ground and rummaged through it. “Then I get the blanket,”

“You get fuck all,” you stated, flipping off the lamp beside you and snuggling into the warm cot.

When the shuffling stopped and the bathroom light was shut off, you shut your eyes and let the wear of the day grab at you, lulling you into the beginning of slumber. That is, until the blanket was hauled from around you, damn near throwing you onto the floor. You shouted out and caught yourself last minute.

“Barnes!” You yelled, steadying yourself and reaching over the edge to grab the blanket back. Your hand fisted at the faux fur and you pulled with all your might to no avail.

He swatted you away as though you were a pesky fly and reached over to turn the light of the lamp on. You glowered at him and stood, wrapping the blanket around your arm and pulling upwards. Your arm strained to its capacity but the man on the floor didn’t budge. Only turned his back to you and shut his eyes. You reached over yourself and flipped the switch of the lamp, once again immersing yourself in the comforting darkness.

Bucky stiffened and opened his eyes then turned and froze you in your spot with his stare. He reached around and lit the lamp, slowly retracting his arm and daring you to turn it off again. So you did.

He yanked the blanket from your grasp and threw you back onto the bed, bringing light into the room. “Light stays on,” he growled.

“No! You’ve had your goddamn way since you stepped foot into this room. Light goes off and I get the blanket!” You shouted, not concerned about anyone else hearing considering the room was soundproof.

“No. You get the bed so I get the blanket. Tell me how that doesn’t make sense,” he countered.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that it did, in fact, make sense. The floor here was wooden and clearly uncomfortable, plus he hadn’t even argued about the bed situation.

You retreated, “Fine, light still goes off,”

“No,”

“Yes,”

Silence fell between the two of you but you weren’t budging. Barnes had faced plenty of monsters, he could handle the dark.

“I need the noise to fall asleep,” he admitted and it was then you could hear the slight hum the bulb emitted.

You didn’t speak for a while but reared back and pulled out your phone, “What do you want to listen to?” You scrolled through a few sounds you had stored on your phone, “We’ve got: nature sounds, frequencies, guided meditations, etc. You name it, but I’m not sleeping with this forsaken light on,”

Bucky studied you, his expression changing a mile a minute but the one of indifference conquered, “Rain,”

You nodded once and selected the audio, placing the phone face up on the nightstand and turning the light off for the last time. Hopefully. You hunkered down into the thin mattress and reached down, grasping at the thick blanket. When you pulled, there was some give. He’d let you get just enough needed to cover your body if you laid at the very edge and your hand hovered in the air when you laid your arm over the side.

Minutes flew by with your eyes shut and the exhaustion slithered over your body but your mind ran wild with the events from earlier. You tried not to get angry or sad or . . . bothered. Your breathing deepened when you began to succumb to your body’s fatigue and you drifted inch by inch into the welcoming void lulling your name.

You didn’t hear when he shifted, only managed to register the faint tracing of his fingertips on your hand before finally giving out.

You weren’t sure what time it was when you opened your eyes for the first time that night. This regularly happened. You’d wake up multiple times during the night to shift positions or throw off the sheets, no matter how insignificant the desire, your body always found a way to wake you for it.

You opened your eyes slowly to a hazy vision and blinked at the sitting figure on the floor, “Bucky?” You croaked, bringing a hand up to wipe at your face, “What time is it?”

“It’s almost one, go back to sleep,”

“What are you doing?” You persisted, ignoring his demand and sitting up slowly, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Couldn’t,”

A heartbeat. Then another. And another. He didn’t care to elaborate.

“Do you want the bed?” You offered, stretching yourself out and already placing yourself down on the floor, “It’s too hot up there, anyway,”

His attention turned to you for the first time but you’d already began closing your eyes, not really having the energy to argue with him. You could hear shuffling from his spot and the ground disappeared below you, strong hands grasping your body and lifting you up to place you gently back onto the cot.

“I prefer the floor,” he insisted, wrapping the blanket around you, “Besides, you’re a horrendous liar,”

You didn’t hold back the singular chuckle, your haze still enveloping you. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”

He sat at the foot of the bed, his hand hovering over your leg in hesitation, “It’s complicated.” He dropped his hand to his side.

“Isn’t the rain helping?” you mumbled, your sight now adjusting to the dark.

“Yes,”

“Then what?”

“I just . . . don’t want to wake you,”

“Well, I’m already awake if that makes you feel better,” you jeered, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It doesn’t,”

“Nothing does,” you retorted, the inevitable annoyance you always felt when conversing with him already made its way up into your tone.

He scoffed and stood from the bed, placing himself in the same spot on the floor with his head leaned up against the wall and his arm resting on his perched knee.

“Oh, so now you can’t handle a little attitude,” your tone came out incredulous, “You didn’t have any issues earlier when you blamed me for that guy’s escape. Which, he didn’t even get to do, might I add,”

“I was projecting,” he replied, gaze still focused on the door opposite to him.

You blinked, “Are you so tired that you’re actually admitting to being a dick?”

“I know I can be a dick, but you threw yourself straight into the line of fire twice today. So I don’t really give a shit if I was mean to you,”

“I only did that because you almost got shot twice today. Don’t take your anger out on me for your incompetence. Just say ‘thank you’ and move on already,”

“Incompetence?” His head jerked in your direction. “What was incompetent was that you couldn’t keep yourself composed,”

You sat up. “What in the hell are you talking about? My behavior is what got our target to basically give himself up to us! It was me that trapped him, not you!” His composure tensed and you crossed your arms over your chest, “You’re just mad your dick got hard so if anything you’re the one who couldn’t keep their compos-” His hand was wrapped around your throat and you were pinned to the mattress before you could finish your sentence.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed at you, his face mere inches from yours.

“Why?” You spoke hoarsely around his tightening grip, “Does the Big Bad Wolf not like that he was turned on? Who’s the prude now?”

“Turned on?” He spat, his free hand resting by your head to cage you in, “You think what you did earlier turned me on?”

You grasped at the hand around your throat and pried slightly to speak, “Fight me or fuck me, Barnes. But stop lying to yourself, it’s getting old,”

The room seemed to freeze over and Bucky paused. His hesitation was enough to elicit the fire from earlier and your legs squirmed a little underneath him. God, you hoped he chose the latter.

Then his lips crashed against yours.

You squeaked at the sudden onslaught but threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him in tighter against you. He dropped when you intertwined your legs, his full weight pressing against you deliciously. You ground up against him, your core aching from the previous hours and the small friction elicited a moan from the both of you.

“So impatient,” he scolded, bringing the hand from around your throat down to your hips and pressing you into the bed. “What a whore,”

His breath danced along your cheek and you mewled at his words. Gods, he was going to be the death of you. Or the beginning.

You breathed in deeply, his sandalwood scent intoxicating you in a manner that alcohol never could. When you drank, you were just drunk. But when you took a sip from the tall glass that was Bucky, it brought you to life. Your body sang melodies wherever you were plastered against each other and your skin burned with need.

Touch me, your body screamed, touch me.

“Fuck off,” you groaned and Bucky jerked your head to the side, exposing your neck for him to scavenge.

The goosebumps that danced across your skin when he ran his warm tongue up from the curve of your neck to the bottom of your ear brought an arrogant smirk onto Bucky’s face. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged when he reached a particularly sensitive spot that had your legs shaking when he kissed it sloppily.

Your mouth hung open in silent pleasure and your breaths were short and rapid, your body betraying all forms of control you previously had over yourself. The hand that wasn’t residing in his hair trailed down his muscled arm and you gripped at the brawn this man possessed. His skin reminisced lightly of silk despite the rough texture of his hands.

The same hands that now made its way into your hair and tugged at the strands at the base of your neck, jolting your chin higher into the air. Your grip tightened around his biceps and the strength they emitted sent a pool rushing to your core. You continued hunting until you found the hem of his black, cotton shirt and you made your way up his taut abdomen. You let out a sigh and he jumped lightly at the sensation of your cool fingertips across his scorching skin. It was a nice contrast for him.

You gripped at the shirt and hastily ripped the cotton upward. Bucky broke away from his descent down to your chest to let you remove the fabric and you’d suddenly wished you’d turned the lights on first. He mimicked your action and tossed your shirt in a deserted corner of the room to potentially be abandoned. You gasped when the cold air of the room grazed upon the perked mounds of your breasts.

His lips returned to their spot on the dip of your neck and his tongue slithered down in between your breasts. Your breath hitched when his wet muscle made its way up to the apex of your chest. His right hand mirrored his tongue and swirled around your nipple, his teeth pulling eagerly every so often and you hissed at the delectable pain. Your eyes devoured the scene unfolding on your chest and you reached over to flick the light on, desperate for a clearer image.

Bucky halted and his metal arm reached over to switch the light back off but you swatted his hand away and he backed up lightly, his irritation evident on his face.

“I want to watch,” you grumbled and shifted up to bring your lips back up to his. He let you. He pushed back lightly with his own lips and leaned in sync with your movements. He parted his mouth slightly and you followed suit, letting him lead his way into yours with the same muscle he’d just had flicking across your breasts.

The light went off.

You pushed him away and shot towards the switch but metal met your wrist firmly enough to keep you in place. “Bucky.” You wrestled against his hold and turned your full attention back to the figure hovering above, “I want to see you,”

Despite the darkness, you noticed his mouth twitch but his grip on your wrist remained solid. You sprawled back onto the bed and wrapped your free hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down onto you, pressing his surprisingly soft lips onto yours. You broke apart, his lips a hair’s breadth away from your own. “I want to see you,”

He didn’t move, only scanned your face over a few times and you brought him back down into a kiss. This one wasn’t like before. This one was warm, soft, patient. A ballet compared to its previous mosh pit. He danced along with you, an admission hidden somewhere in his tenderness.

You hadn’t realized you’d been freed of his hold until you were wrapping that arm over his shoulder and the sound of a light humming began.

“Fucker,” you jeered and the previous gentleness dissipated.

“Shut up,” he ordered, pinning you back onto the bed and resumed his ministration on your breasts.

The moan slipped past your lips at the sight and your chest heaved upwards, desperate for more stimulation. You licked your lips at how his mouth encased your nipple, his tongue flicking against the perked skin and you dropped your head back, shutting your eyes. You centered all of your attention anywhere that his bare skin touched your body and rubbed your aching clit against his v-line.

Your chest was pressed against the mattress before you could register what happened and the hard smack that met your ass evoked a yelp. Bucky pressed fully against your backside and he ground his dick down into your ass. He groaned at the sensation and you raised your ass onto him. You yelped again when Bucky ripped your leggings down and smacked the exposed skin on your ass.

“Try something like that again and I’ll gag you around my cock ‘til you’re crying,” he growled, “Understood?”

You nodded, wide-eyed and a mewling mess from the threatening promise of this God.

“Good girl,” he cooed, rubbing at the raw skin. “Now stay still for Daddy,”

Bucky’s hand lingered on your reddening ass and the mattress dipped when he shifted to your side. He traced gentle circles onto your backside and pressed his lips on your shoulder blade, the butterfly kisses making their way down towards your spine and then lower. Your breathing grew uneven from the sheer amount of restraint you displayed. Your grip on the edge of the bed tightened when his tongue dragged from the point where your thigh and ass met all the way up to the bottom of your spine.

“Fuck,” You shuddered, white-knuckling the blanket beneath you.

Your skin blazed when you were met with another harsh slap. You mewled at the sensation, loving the fire that spread across your flesh and relaxed when his metal hand cooled the area.

Then his teeth bit into the cooling flesh and you jerked away despite yourself. Bucky tsked lowly and you chuckled at the hint of fear sprouting in your chest; you did not want to see whatever sinister expression resided on his face.

A strong hand gripped the roots of your hair and hauled you up. You followed his direction and knelt onto the ground between Bucky’s sprawled out legs, settling in your new position.

“Oh, Doll,” he chastised, “you were so close,”

“That shouldn’t count,” you retorted while Bucky pulled the blanket off the bed and lifted you up with his metal arm, shoving the barrier between your knees and the hard ground.

“But it does.” His hands dove into his underwear and sprung his cock out onto your lips. “Now get to work,”

Your eyes widened at the sight before you and you had to physically hold back from gulping. You were ashamed to admit your mouth watered in anticipation. You lifted your hands from his sculpted thighs and wrapped them around his length, enveloping just the tip past your parted lips. Bucky sighed and twitched in your mouth.

You welcomed him in fully, or as much as you could anyway, and got straight to work, not bothering to act abashed at your desire. Your tongue swirled around his tip and you leaned into him until he hit the back of your mouth but you continued on, gagging around him when he’d gotten inside your throat. Bucky groaned when your throat tightened around him and he threw his head back, using his flesh hand to guide you up and down his shaft, showing you what he liked and didn’t.

“Fuck, Doll,” he groaned, “Just how I imagined your mouth would feel,”

You pulled off him to comment when he shoved you all the way down to the hilt and you threw your hands up onto his thighs to hold yourself back. He used his metal arm to hold himself up and thrusted up into your salivating mouth desperately. He continuously hit the back of your throat and thick saliva coated his cock. Just as he promised, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and he didn’t stop until your cheeks were drenched in the liquid.

You let your jaw hang open, your tongue no longer swiveling around meticulous spots that you knew would make his legs buckle. No, you let him have the reigns. Let him fuck your mouth ‘til your throat grew bruised and jaw ached with fatigue. You committed his cries of pleasure to memory, the sounds euphoric to your ears.

He lifted his head and stared down at you with half-closed eyes. He was in heaven and you knew it. He watched you, how the tears trailed down, how your hands gripped at his thighs, how you stuck out your tongue just as you’d made it to the base of his cock to lick his balls in the most intoxicating way. Fuck. You were the intoxicating one. You brought out this side of him. This carnal desire that became him until he’d had to step out of the room just to compose himself. And he didn’t like being out of control. That’s why he always kept you at an arm’s distance.

But now, watching as you sat between him with your mouth agape like the good girl that you were for him, he knew he’d never deny himself this pleasure again. Especially since you were so fucking good at it.

He groaned, pulling you off his cock and grabbed tightly at your cheeks, nearly pinching your mouth together. “Tongue out.” He growled, waiting for your compliance.

Your jaw ached with exhaustion but you managed to stick out the wet muscle as he pulled you closer into him and watched when he parted his lips above you, letting the saliva trail down from his mouth into yours.

“Swallow,” he ordered.

But it was already done, and you left your mouth hanging open for more.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky grumbled, putting his face right up against yours and feeding you once again; this time with a sloppy kiss that coated both your mouths in saliva.

He brought you up from the floor and tossed you onto the bed before settling between your legs. The excitement in your eyes grew and he indulged in every minute of it. Bucky’s hand trailed down from your lower abdomen right above your pubic bone and pressed his palm into your neglected clit. The cry you let out was the unholiest thing he’d ever heard.

He slid his finger under the waistband of your underwear and flitted his gaze back up to your eyes, “Can I?”

You nodded eagerly, dumbfounded that he would even ask and fought the temptation to grab your phone from the nightstand and record everything that was about to unfold.

At the first nod, Bucky slid your underwear down your legs and made a show of bringing the material up to his face. Your own went red hot and you hid behind your hands, poking through every millisecond to shamefully watch. He threw the panties into his open duffel and you squirmed in anticipation.

“Remember the rules?” Bucky asked, brow lifted and already descending to your inner thigh.

You nodded again.

“I need to hear it, Doll,” he mumbled, kissing the inner part of your thigh, each placement closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Yes,” you whimpered out, “I remember the rules,”

Bucky wanted to dive right in, he really did, but the way you sprawled yourself out so vulnerable for him, it incited a new pace that he wanted to follow. So, he did. He looked at you for a few moments, watched how the anticipation danced in your eyes, how your legs shook in wait and how you were already so goddamn wet for him.

“This all for me?” he teased, mesmerized at your desire for him.

You dropped a hand down to your side, near where his hands were wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place - and against his face. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your answer.

You nodded sheepishly and when he lifted an eyebrow in mock confusion you said, “You. Just you,”

Like music to his ears. Just him. You weren’t for anyone else. He thought he felt his heart palpitate.

He lowered himself down to your core and kissed your lip, drawing a desperate plea from you. You couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t deal with the teasing. You were wet enough, needy enough, ready enough to take him, all of him. You’d been ready damn near the moment you first laid eyes on his arrogant smirk.

“Buck - please,” you cried, drawling out the final word.

The first kiss placed upon your soaked cunt erupted a sigh of relief and you laid back on the pillow, your eyes closed and mind gone with the sensation of those sloppy kisses blessing your needs. He flattened his tongue on your lips and licked upwards, stopping when your hips twitched into his mouth.

“Sorry!” You apologized, fighting the desire to grind into his wet muscle. He’d just gotten started and you certainly didn’t want it to end so soon.

He lifted his gaze up to you and you bit into your fist at the view, using the extremity to hold back your moans. He flicked his attention down again and repeated his motion, lapping at your fluids ‘til his beard was soaked in it. He shook his head into your cunt and his nose rubbed along your clit. The mewling that left your mouth urged him on and when you felt his muscle prodding at your entrance you threw your head back.

“Please, Bucky.” You begged, bringing a hand up to tease your nipple.

He prodded some more, his tongue gliding up from your clit and back down to your entrance, poking through enough to frustrate you. He wanted you to break for him. To lose all composure and control and just let him. He wanted you to submit to him but it wasn’t just that, it was more that he wanted to destroy you for any future experience you may have without him. He wanted you to come back to him, to need him, to beg for him and leave you with the understanding that nothing - no one - could compare to him. He wanted you. To himself.

So, when he could no longer refrain and had to use his metal arm to hold your hips down from squirming beneath him, he slipped two thick, rough fingers into your begging cunt. And the sound you emitted caused that carnal instinct to claw at the barriers caging it in.

Your hand shot down, tangling itself into his hair and pushing him harder against you. He allowed it. Your thighs held him in place, crushing him with your soft skin and he groaned at the warmth you gave off. You pulled your hand away from your mouth and grabbed at his metal one resting on your pubic bone, pulling it up to your chest and wrapping his fingers on the sensitive bud for him to tease. He slowly retracted from your chest and brought it back down onto your hips and you huffed in annoyance. You looked down at Bucky but his eyes were shut, completely engrossed in the feast before him. You bucked when his fingers glazed across that sensitive spot inside your velvety walls.

��“There!” You cried, your fist tightening in his hair when the all-too-familiar wave of ecstasy began to pool together, waiting for its release.

Bucky complied, dragging the pads of his fingers up against that spot over and over again. Your legs caged him in tighter as his tongue swirled over the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves and you cried out at the way your body tensed.

“Fuck,” you cried, your hands desperately grasping onto Bucky’s metal wrist and tugging at the roots of his hair. Bucky’s groan of pleasure was what tipped you over the edge.

You gasped when the pool building released, your body shaking with euphoria and the flood crashed down onto you. And apparently, onto Bucky as well. He pulled his mouth away but continued rubbing at your clit when warm liquid squirted onto his face and his expression of surprise mirrored your own.

When Bucky looked up at you, your face burned with embarrassment and you threw your head back, using your hand to cover your countenance. Not to mention the sight of him with your juices all over his mouth was one of the hottest things you’d ever witnessed.

Bucky chuckled at your sheepish apology and removed your hand from your face, bringing his soaked mouth up to yours and having you taste yourself. You devoured each other, your arms wrapped tightly around the other, pulling so fiercely at the innate desire to become one in shared pleasure. He could feel his pride swell at your hidden confession. You’d never squirted before and he was lucky enough to be the one to give you that experience for the first time.

You clawed at him, divulging in the warmth his body radiated and intoxicating yourself in everything that was Bucky. You couldn’t get enough of it, of him. It was nearly too much.

His hand trailed up to your gaping mouth and he inserted his fingers, “Clean them,” he ordered.

Your hand gripped his wrist and pulled his fingers deeper into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with him, loving the way he ate up everything he was seeing. You noticed the way he swallowed.

He retracted his hand and wrapped it gently behind your head so you were resting on him. He brought his full weight down onto your body and a warmth emanated in your chest when he brought his lips up against your forehead, each kiss closer and closer to your lips until they met their destination. When you parted your mouth against his, it wasn’t merely an action of carnal desire, it was like you were exchanging life forces. Merging and meeting in a manner that had your body exploding and crying out for more of the faint familiarity. Like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.

Bucky looked down between your bodies at where you were about to connect before staring back up at you, taking you in as if he would never have this opportunity again. His thumb brushed your cheek and came to a rest on your bottom lip. “Ready?”

You chuckled, “Fuck me,”

He shoved inside in one clean motion and a breath of pleasure slid past both of your lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand tightening slightly around your neck and he pulled out slowly then shot back inside and you moaned.

You were still so sensitive from your previous climax that every brush against your clit sent you into a whirlwind of pleasure, the sensations shooting through every nerve in your body.

“Bucky,” you whined when his pace quickened and the sheer force of his thrusts drove you deeper into euphoria.

He filled you just right, his girth and length impressive and you wondered why you hadn’t tried to screw him earlier. He slid past your tight walls, each thrust causing the room to echo with the sounds of skin slapping and moans of ecstasy.

He kept his actions controlled, not wanting to build up to something so intense just for it to fall short and end fast. No. Despite how good you felt wrapped around his aching and swollen cock, despite how warm and welcoming you were, how you spread yourself out for him to consume, he had to leash himself. This was going to be just as good for you as it was for him.

He kissed you one last time before gripping the back of your knees and bringing your thighs up to your chest, a shout of praise falling off your lips. He was drunk on the sight of his cock going in and out of your cunt and he threw his head back with a groan.

“What a fucking pretty pussy,” he breathed out and you whimpered, biting your lip at the welcome profanities.

At this angle, he was fucking against your g-spot and using his pubic bone to rub against your clit and watching the thin layer of sweat sheen off his skin was all too much to keep yourself put together. His eyebrows scrunched together and you caught him taking in your form, watching how your pleasure displayed itself on your face for him to bear witness to. Only him.

He growled at the intrusion of thoughts that came to him. He pictured someone else in his position, someone else witnessing you so vulnerable and open to them, someone else fucking you and making you beg for them. It disgusted him. He brought his torso down and latched his teeth to your neck, biting down hard enough to have you tearing up.

“Mine,” he growled into your ear and lulled his head forward when you tightened around him.

A sinister smirk came to his face and he licked the shell of your ear, your breathy moans feeding him, “You like that?” He asked, pistoling further into your cunt and you shouted at the increase of pace, “You like when I tell you who you belong to?”

Your mouth hung agape and the one arm wrapped around his shoulder pulled him closer to you, your desperation for his warmth taking control. “Fuck . . . off,” you hissed between breaths.

He pulled out and yanked you up by your hair, twisting you around and pressing your torso into the wall but keeping your ass propped up for him to admire. You hissed at the pain when a sharp smack met your ass and your hands gripped at the wall for any way to ground yourself and prevent from becoming putty in his hands.

Another hard smack met your ass and you lurched forward to get away from the sting. Bucky kept your head pinned to the cement, his hand holding your cheek from scraping the wall but applying a pressure that had your tongue lolling out of your mouth.

You moaned at the intrusion in your pussy and he plummeted in and out, a mix of your grunts and groans bouncing around the room. His pace constantly changed. One second it was fast, the next it was slow but filling, going so far as to hit your cervix a few times and leave you a crying mess under his hold. Your shoulder scraped along the wall and you fought to push away only to have your chest slammed harder against the cement.

You brought a hand out, reaching behind yourself and grasping for Bucky’s hip, pushing him deeper into you when he slowed. Your nails dug into his flesh and the sound of his hiss shot straight to your core.

“What a goddamn whore,” he spat, bringing his teeth down onto your neck and you gripped at his hair.

You laughed at his statement, “You’re the one that can’t get enough of this pussy. Why so desperate to claim it? Afraid I'll fuck someone else?” Bucky pulled you back and slammed you against the wall with vigor, causing you to flinch

He stopped his thrusts altogether, “My patience only goes so far, Doll,” he threatened, tugging at your hair and you bit back a cry, “Choose your words wisely,”

You nodded hastily, the rough texture of the wall digging into your cheek and splitting skin. You wriggled up against him to continue moving but he retracted completely and flipped you over so he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him.

“Move,” he ordered, his hands digging bruises into your waist.

You leaned over, pressing your chest against his to lift your hips up and down on him but he pushed you back up and held your arms behind your back to keep you in place. You whimpered but the cry quieted when you rubbed your clit against him and your pussy clenched at the friction. You moaned out a breathy fuck and swiveled your hips around his, noting how much deeper he filled you in this position.

“Buck-” you huffed, eyes glued to the glistening abs beneath you. “I’m gonna cum,”

“Already?” He jeered, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

You’d lost all energy to sneer at him, your focus solely on how the sensation grew and began pooling in your cunt. “Cock . . . so good,” you breathed out, barely able to keep yourself from melting into him.

“What was that, Doll?” He stilled your movements and you groaned in annoyance.

You wriggled in his hold and you could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was fighting to keep control as well. You leaned over him, your lips hovering over his, “Mine,”

His grip flew to the back of your neck and he crashed your lips onto his, giving you full reign again. You bounced your hips on his dick, slamming down vigorously and rubbing your clit in effect. It didn’t take long for your climax to build again.

“’M gonna . . .” you whispered and Bucky placed you back up, gripping your hips and swiveling you around how you were earlier.

“Cum, Doll,” he allowed, “Cum all over this cock,”

You cried out, your toes curling as the dam in your core snapped and your climax washed over you. You hadn’t realized your fingers were intertwined with Bucky's until you came back down from your high, your chest heaving for breath.

He sat up slowly and pressed his lips against your neck. “You’re beautiful,”

Your body tensed at his words and you pulled away to give him a look of confusion. But he didn’t take his statement back, only slipped his hands around your back and gently placed you onto the bed, hovering over you.

He moved with caution, like his gentleness might scare you off if he touched you too tenderly or stared too long in admiration. But he couldn’t help it, he did admire you.

He spread your legs open and nestled between them, pushing into you slowly until your hips met and you both breathed out. His movements weren’t nearly as brutal as they were earlier, these thrusts were slow and deep and full of intention. He brought his torso down onto yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer to you.

He ran his hand, the only one he allowed himself to touch you affectionately with, through your hair and stared down at you, waiting. His gaze shifted between your lips to your eyes and he ran his thumb delicately along your mouth.

You looked at him then, really looked at him with fresh eyes and your heart leapt into your throat at the realization. “Kiss me,” you whispered and he lowered himself onto your lips, setting off an explosion in your chest.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, not able to bring himself to look at you, “I’ve been yours,”

You opened your mouth to respond but he silenced you with a deep thrust and a moan erupted instead. He quickened his pace, watching where you connected and pushed deeper and harder, your cries of pleasure driving him. He had to fuck you, he couldn’t love you, he couldn’t make love to you, just fuck. That’s it. He couldn’t allow himself to replay your look of shock at his confession, though the scene would surely be on loop for the next few days until he could get over it. Just fuck. Nothing more. Not with that look of disbelief on your face.

He held himself up with his forearms but you pressed him against you and wrapped your legs tighter around him. “Harder,” you whispered and he complied.

He groaned when your tits bounced and brought his mouth to a nipple, the faint taste of sweat lingering on your skin. You brought his metal hand up to your chest and made him grip the flesh there but he pulled it back and placed it beside your head instead.

“Bucky,” you whimpered and grabbed his hand again, bringing his open palm up to your lips and placing delicate kisses on the metal. “You can feel with it, right?”

He nodded, hesitance sprawled on his face.

“Then touch me,” you urged, bringing the hand down between your bodies and pressing the cold metal against your clit, “Feel me,”

His brows furrowed slightly but the look of your certainty forced him to dismiss his own perceptions of his body; or rather, that arm. And when he began rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves the expression on your face made him hate it a little less. Only a little.

You stared up at him, his pace growing erratic and sloppy and you knew he was close. “You wanna cum?”

He nodded, his hot breath coming out haggard and strained. You placed your hand on his cheek and brought him up to your kiss.

“Then cum,”

He shook his head, “You first,” he swirled his finger around your swollen clit and you gasped at the force of his thrust.

Your body tensed and you centered all your focus on his ministrations, “A little more pressure,” you directed and he quickly found a pressure that had you wobbling in the knees. “Close,” you murmured, gripping Bucky’s side and bringing your lips up to his neck to pepper the skin there.

He groaned and judging by the way his dick twitched inside you, you knew he wasn’t far behind.

“Bucky,” you whispered, pulling his attention towards you and his gaze brought you closer to the edge, “I’m yours,”

He blinked and his pace faltered for half a beat. He examined your facial expression, like he didn’t believe the words you’d spoken. Not like he couldn’t believe them, but like you’d said them just to appease him.

You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to center yourself in the haze of this fucking. “Yours,” you repeated, all the emotion residing in your chest poured into the singular word.

And then he was back to drilling you into the mattress, a new vigor fueling his thrusts. You cried out and Bucky pressed his sweaty torso flat against your own and it felt like the essence, the being, in your chest intermingled with his own and all the climaxes you’d previously experienced couldn’t hold a match to the flame, the intensity, the rawness of the one that washed over the both of you in that moment.

Bucky moaned out, his hips bucking into yours and you rode out both of your highs. The sensation consuming and overwhelming and welcome on both ends as it flooded through your bodies, meeting at your point of contact.

His arms flexed above you with the ferocity of his climax and the display had you writhing beneath him, already desperate for more.

“Buck,” you whispered when his breathing evened out after he collapsed onto you.

He didn’t respond, afraid it had all been a dream, a trick, despite still being inside you. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shatter the perfection of this moment. What if you’d only said that to get him to finish faster? What if you’d only fed him what he wanted to hear? What if-

“Buck,” you repeated, pulling him from his daze and he lifted his head only slightly. You gripped his chin lightly and forced him to look you in the eye. “You’re . . . mine?”

He wanted to shake his head, to tell you that he got caught up in the moment but instead he said, “Yours,” because he knew anything else would be a lie and he was tired of lying.

You studied him and nodded, “Yours,” you stated, already rolling your eyes from the smirk forming on his face, “Unfortunately,”

He brought your face to his and planted a tender kiss on your lips. He started shifting his position and grabbed the underwear he’d been wearing earlier before pulling out and using the cloth to clean the mess pooling out of you. But not before taking a mental picture, of course.

After a few minutes of laying together, his hand playing with a few strands of hair, you felt the warm welcome of sleep beginning to drag you into its embrace. You opened your eyes groggily and looked up at Bucky who was already looking down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I know about your night terrors,” you whispered and his actions halted momentarily before returning to brush through your hair, “I hear you sometimes. And I understand why you don’t want to go to sleep but,” you sat up slowly and placed the thick blanket down on the floor, dragging the pillow down with you and patting the open space beside you, “you should rest. I’ll be here to calm you or stay up with you. Whichever one you need,”

He didn’t move at first, his ears drowning out any thought he could have while processing what you’d said. He’d stayed silent so long you’d thought you’d crossed a line.

“I can always sleep on the bed if you’d prefer, though,”

Bucky shook himself from his thoughts and edged closer to the floor, slowly descending into the available space and wrapping the blanket around the both of you as much as he could. “No,” he said, “I want you here,”

You hummed in response and snuggled into his waiting arms, lightly wrapping your own around him, making sure to kiss the part of himself he hated the most before fatigue swept you up into its clutches. Bucky followed soon after.

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daddy-devorak-the-handsome-leech · 3 years ago

Text

Thinking about…

You moved to disentangle yourself from the pile of warm furs, but a hefty pair of arms lock you in place, pressing you down to where you had tried to escape from.

Your bare stomach fits comfortably against his stubbly toned one, your pillowy chest pressing against his hard pecs.

“Muri…” You huff, trying to dislodge yourself once more, “Muriel I gotta go, I told you I would!”

He growls and hugs you tighter, one arm moving to trap one of your plush, squirming thighs against his side.

“No.” The large hermit huffed back.

“Honey, I’ll be back this afternoon, it’s just a quick errand, I promise…”

You manage to prop yourself up on the bed, your outspread fingertips digging into the mattress on either side of your boyfriend’s shaggy head. From the torso down, Muriel had control over your much weaker frame, but at least you could look him in the eye.

“Baby, I’m running to the city for a few hours and then we can stay in bed for the rest of the day, I promise! Do you want the last, already picked over scraps of food from the stalls or do you want the freshest the vendors can offer?”

“You can go tomorrow.” He replies stanchly, unmoving.

“But the pumpkin bread…” You whine, hoping to draw pity with your trembling lip, “Muri, I need it.”

It was working. You were breaking his resolve, using the cracks in his determination against him with your powers of irresistibility and cuteness.

“Pleeeeeease, baby?” You beg, wiggling your behind against his loosening grasp.

He heaves a great sigh and allows you to wriggle out of his arms completely.

“Whatever. I’m coming with you.”

You cheer and rush to the corner of the hut where an intricate but unnoticeable wardrobe was set into one of the walls, the silken cloths wrapped around your waist slipping off and into a shimmery heap by your feet as you thumb through your shared closet.

Muriel closed his eyes, moving his thoughts elsewhere, preferably miles from your perfect ass and thighs on display to the entire hut.

You hear a groan from the bed, the creaking of the wooden frame, and a thump.

You turn and see Muriel crumpled on the floor, half of the bed tumbling down on top of him.

Innana scrambles up from her mat to see why her master was lying on the floor stock still and starts sniffling at his arms and licking his face, prodding his cheek with her big wet nose, oblivious to the corner of his mouth; which was twitching with restrained laughter.

Muriel suddenly locked eyes with her, and murmured “boo,” spooking the poor animal so bad she jumped about a foot in the air with a howl.

He laughed heartily, sitting up and tugging the floofy wolf into his lap and wrestling with her a bit before he felt your fingertips card through his soft hair.

He looked up to appreciate your lovely features, but his own fur cloak obstructed his view of your sparkly eyes and precious smile.

It was your turn to be tugged into his lap, the heavy hood falling away to reveal your giggling visage. It appeared that the countess had sent you a new shawl, as the silk folds were of a pattern he’d never seen before.

“Ready?” You smile up at him, his warmth soaking into your otherwise chilly outfit.

“‘M gonna need that, but yeah.” He returns a bashful smile, his luck dawning on him like the pink and yellow sky outside.

He gets to his feet, setting you on your own and helping you out of his heavy cloak so he could wrap it around his own broad shoulders.

Innana prances up to you with your bag in her mouth, plopping down by the door with glittering yellow eyes locked on her master.

He leans down to accept your request for a kiss, one massive hand comfortably weighing on your side, the other lifting your chin ever so slightly.

Then, hand in hand, you approach the wolf and offer your hand in a silent question for your bag. She drops the strap into your waiting palm and snatches the jerky from your other as soon as the treat was revealed.

“See you later, Innana,” You smile, keep watch, okay?”

She whufs approvingly and Muriel scritches behind her ears as he passes, sneaking her another piece of jerky as the door slides shut behind him.

Because goat mama died and i haven’t contributed much to this fandom yet

Hope you enjoyed ;) I’ll be back with more later <3

Happy New Years!!

#the arcana #the arcana muriel #muriel route #the arcana fanfiction #muriel x reader #leechwrites

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thewayshedreamed · 3 years ago

Note

Nessian prompt:

We’re playing truth or dare and I just got dared to sit on your lap for the next two rounds but now I’m sitting on your hard-on and I’m kinda getting turned on cuz the ✨positioning✨. We’re both tryna fix the situation without drawing attention to us but the fidgeting definitely isn’t helping 👀

Thanks for the prompt, Bby! I know you sent it as part of my follower celebration, but it worked so well for @nessianweek Day 4: Rivalry that I couldn't pass it up.

Enjoy!

Warnings for strong language and mature themes. Slightly nsfw.

Nesta didn't know the last time she played Truth or Dare. She thought those days had left her at some point during undergrad, but apparently not. There she was, her last semester of graduate school, somewhat invested in a round of the game. The group had been playing for almost an hour, the drinks they poured becoming more and more stout as the night went on.

Gwyn and Emerie had convinced her to join them for a night out with the others, and to be fair, it had been quite some time since she'd allowed herself a carefree night out. Her sisters and Mor were there, as well as Rhys, Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien. Amren mentioned she would "see how things went", which meant she and Varian were staying in to fulfill their own agenda. There was no doubt that was for the best since their activities would likely scar them all.

It was Mor's turn, and her mischievous smile turned on her girlfriend. "Truth or Dare, Em?"

Emerie considered it for a moment, making a show of staring at the ceiling. One of the guys made a sound similar to a ticking clock, but she paid them no mind.

"Truth."

"Okay," Mor drawled, taking a long sip of wine. "Fuck, Marry, Kill; for Rhys, Azriel, Cassian."

Emerie's eyes grew wide, snapping to Feyre and back to Mor. Nesta dared to chuckle at her friend's tight position, earning a pointed glare reserved for the worst of traitors.

"Don't hesitate on my account," Feyre giggled, resting her head on Rhys' shoulder. "I'm curious."

"That's not a fair one!" Emerie argued, gesturing with her hands. "The answer is none of the above, on all counts. For more than one reason."

The three men had the audacity to look miffed at her rejection, even though none of them had any interest in Emerie. They'd all known each other too long for any blurred lines. Mor leaned heavily against her, a look of apology in her rounded, brown eyes.

"Fair enough," she conceded, pressing a kiss to Emerie's cheek.

"That's not how it works!" Cassian challenged. It was unclear whether his ego or strict principles motivated his outburst.

Nesta fought the urge to roll her eyes, to rise to the challenge in his voice like she usually did. But Emerie was her friend, and she wasn't going to take him pushing her lying down. The words left her with more snark than usual.

"Oh, would you come off it?"

His eyes snapped in her direction, locking in on her face like a predator circling prey. "Let me guess. You have an opinion."

Nesta's blood boiled, despite the fact that she told herself Cassian wouldn't get under her skin the next time they were around each other. She was 0 for... hundreds at that point.

"She answered it truthfully, so I don't see the problem."

"It's the way the question was framed, though. It's a game within the question. There were three options. 'None of the above' wasn't one of them."

Nesta loosened the reins on her eye rolling. Cassian was good for that. "No one made that rule."

"Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that."

Emerie cleared her throat, eager to redirect his challenge before the two of them escalated. "Show us how it's done, then. Truth or Dare, Cassian?"

His attention lingered on Nesta a moment longer, a familiar glint in his eyes. Her blood heated for an entirely different reason, and she was sure to berate it for doing so.

"Dare."

"I dare you to kiss Azriel," she said, grinning around the rim of her glass. "On the mouth."

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, resigned to his fate. He knew Cassian better than anyone, and it was only a matter of time.

Without hesitation, Cassian said, "Oh, done. Tongue?"

A chorus of laughter drowned out Azriel incredulous curse in Cassian's direction. When she finally recovered, Emerie took mercy on Azriel and excused any tongue. Cassian didn't hesitate to lean toward Azriel, cupping him roughly by the back of the neck and planting a full kiss to his mouth. There were catcalls all around; not at all needed in the encouragement department.

Azriel turned his attention to Feyre, fully succumbing to his soft spot for her and letting her off on the easiest Truth ever. It was something to do with who she would most like to draw or paint of the lot of them, excluding Rhys. No surprises on her choice of Azriel himself, but to his credit, he didn’t preen at the compliment. He humbly nodded as if anyone alive wouldn’t want to catch those angles on canvas.

“Nesta,” Feyre called, interrupting another quip she had been prepared to launch Cassian’s way. She couldn’t remember why. “Truth or Dare?”

She took a long pull of her drink and licked her bottom lip. “Dare.”

“Hmm,” Feyre considered, and Nesta had to admit to being slightly terrified of how diabolical sibling could be in a game such as the one she played. It didn’t take long for her to realize she’d been right to feel that way. “I think you two need to learn to get along. I dare you to sit on Cass' lap. Minimum of two full turns.”

Nesta’s nostrils flared. Cassian’s red hot challenge bore a hole into the side of her head, and all she could hear was his taunt from before.

Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that.

She snapped her attention to his face, suppressing the urge to throttle him for the narrow-eyed smirk he offered. Angling his large body backward, he draped a muscled arm across the back of the couch and eased his thighs open. Cassian wouldn't be the one to back down, she realized.

"Fine." Nesta threw back the rest of her drink and set it roughly on the nearby table.

Cassian's eyes were sparkling, his smile feline. He tapped his thigh with his free hand to goad her, and she wondered if he— if they— would ever tire of the constant challenges. Nesta sauntered over and dropped heavily into the center of his lap, earning a loud oof.

"Fuck, Sweetheart," he fussed, gripped her waist in his large hands to rearrange their position.

The heat of his hands, the scrape of his calluses; they came together to monopolize her focus. She was almost sure that others were amused by their display, but her world was singularly focused.

Cassian cleared his throat while he eased her into a position that better balanced her weight. The tension eased from her thighs as she settled, only for him to shift her again. Nesta let out an exaggerated sigh at his constant fidgeting. The only silver lining to the near motion sickness she'd no doubt endure as a result was the steadiness of his grip against her.

The reason for all his maneuvering revealed itself seconds later. Nesta had been initially impressed with the muscle tone in his thighs, how firm the muscles felt beneath her. They were nothing in comparison to the very obvious hardness pressing against the swell of her ass.

Animated conversation continued around them, and Nesta took the opportunity to turn and offer an accusatory glare. He hissed against the pressure of her movement, sending her eyebrows into her hairline.

"Are you really h—"

"Shh!" Cassian ordered, clamping a hand over her mouth. "Can you not announce that shit to the entire room?"

Nesta blinked incredulously and dragged her tongue against his palm. He grimaced, rubbing his palm against his jeans as if she'd poured acid onto his skin.

"It's not my fault you can't... control that," she hissed.

"Well, shit, Nesta. When's the last time you had a beautiful woman on your lap and had to keep your boner in check?" His whisper was low, frantic. There were words that latched onto her nerves and left goosebumps in their wake, even when she barely heard them.

"It's only two turns," she managed, swallowing against the dryness in her throat. "Then, it'll be a non-issue."

Cassian's hands clung to her hips once more, the delicious grip of them even firmer than before. "You can't get up now; not in front of them." He gestured with a jerk of his chin to the rest of the room. "They're savages."

A laugh bubbled out of Nesta's chest, and surprisingly, it was more due to the unlikely alliance forged by biology than her pleasure in his panic. The irony wasn't lost on her, but she didn't get to dwell on it for long before Cassian started strategizing.

"We're supposed to get along, right?" He paused, waiting for the excessive noise level to settle around them. Someone must have performed a solid dare, and Nesta was mildly concerned that it hadn't managed to be a blip on their radar. "You're gonna have to keep fighting with me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "To be clear, you want me to argue with you so that we can hide this?" She rocked back into him for emphasis, and a pained sound left him. Nesta was grateful for the small silver lining that was her private arousal, otherwise she and Cassian would be in the same boat. The way his eyelids fluttered didn't help.

"I'm asking your for a small favor. When I get my shit together, you're free to go. I'm not exactly happy about it either."

Another smile teased her lips. "Small?"

"Mother's tits. Just turned around."

Nesta complied, if for no other reason than to hide the chuckle she'd been trying to choke down throughout the conversation. They engaged with the others as nonchalantly as possible, ignoring each other completely until opportunities arose to take opposing stances on anything at all. The rules of the game. Who brought the best drinks. If someone had successfully completed their dare or answered their question. Cassian had been correct in assuming the group would advocate for their continued canoodling since they weren't yet cooperating with one another.

"Nesta," he almost growled, sometime after a dozen turns of their faux discord. "This isn't helping."

She whipped around, noting the pained expression on his face. "Wait, is this working for you?"

Cassian squeezed his temples between his thumb and middle finger, looking as if he was in as much disbelief as her. The tragic part was that the arguing hadn't curbed her own body's reactions to him, either.

"That's what it looks like."

Nesta didn't cage it then, the full and melodic laughter that shook her shoulders and made her eyes water. He continued bracing his head in his hand while she delighted in his torture.

"That's awfully kinky of you."

"Alright, enough out of you," he grumbled, situating her for the hundredth time. "You have any better ideas?"

Tears pooled in her eyes, and she flicked them away. "I guess your only choice is to wait until the game ends, or someone causes enough commotion for you to adjust and take a break for a few minutes."

Cassian huffed, clearly unimpressed with her tactics.

"You'll just have to trust me, of all people, to keep your secret in the meantime," she stated, turning her attention back to the room.

His only response was a muttered curse before she felt his forehead drop between her shoulder blades.

#nessian #nessian au #nessianweek2021 #nessian week day 4 #day 4: rivalry #nesta x cassian #twsd writes #twsd fics #800 followers celebration

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egcdeath · 4 years ago

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checkmate

summary: you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl-ish au)

pairing(s): ransom drysdale x dark!reader, a special mystery guest ;)

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ because of heavy themes! faked death, framing of crimes, manipulation, alluding to sex, alluding to cheating, terrible relationship dynamic, very loose usage of the word crazy/psychotic, implied mention of self harm, brief choking & slapping (in a non sexual way lol), pregnancy trapping (idk if thats the right term), the reader is a very bad human being, overuse of italics *please let me know if i’m missing any warnings!

author’s note: this is my 2nd submission for @stargazingfangirl18’s 5k soft dark challenge, i decided to make the reader dark >:) but ransom is also not a good person. I used these prompts: “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” & The town golden *girl isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

this is definitely the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, but blame @literate-lamb for making me write this because when i pitched this to her and said that i’d probably never write it, she enabled me.

okay that's enough from me. join my taglist if you want :D

“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Your whole life, you’d considered yourself a competitive person. Constantly overcompensating for one thing or another, whether it was the chronic desire to achieve perfection that had been installed in you since you were a little girl, or your persistent internalized sense of inadequacy. You realized early on that it was much better for you to win than for you to lose, no matter the physical, emotional, or mental cost of the prize of perfection.

For the most part, this mindset worked out for you. You graduated as Valedictorian from your high school, neared the top of your graduating class at Harvard. God knew you earned it, all those tears you shed into overpriced textbooks, all the popping of unprescribed Adderall, and robbing yourself of the parties and social events that the rest of your peers gladly indulged in.

You were just different, which was why you gained a job nearly immediately after your exit from school, quickly climbing to the top at the Blood Like Wine publishing company after only a few years of being there.

And one night, at the party celebrating the release of A Thousand Knives when you laid your eyes on Hugh Ransom Drysdale, the grandson of your boss, you knew that you needed to have him. Rich, hot, a bit of an asshole. You deserved to finally complete your image, and that socialite flavored eye candy seemed to fit the part perfectly. Luckily for you, he was desperate. It only took a few tugs on your dress’ V-line, and a number of knowing smirks to find yourself being finger-banged in his family manor’s bathroom.

From there, you wormed your way into his life. Leaving belongings at his place as an excuse to come back, and offering booty calls in the middle of the night. Ransom must’ve been much more desperate than you originally thought, as it really only seemed to take one night of stroking his hair while he vented about his family to make him want to be with you. Men with mommy issues were always so easy.

Except, he wasn’t that easy. The longer you got to know Ransom, the more fucked up you realized he really was. He had no boundaries at all, became jealous and enraged at the drop of a pin, and occasionally told you things that made the hairs on your arms rise.

This of course all came to a head after the night of Harlan’s 85th birthday party. When the news broke of his tragic death, you’d immediately known it was the works of your Hugh. If your intuition wasn’t enough, his confession in the shower, where he’d demanded you take off your clothes to display that you were without a bug, certainly was.

You were completely devastated. The man that you’d invested so much into for years had thrown both his and your reputations down the drain in just a matter of hours. Of course, you felt bad for Harlan too. He was a good guy (when he wasn’t instigating a family fight).

Still, you showed up during the funeral in your best mourning clothes and dawning your biggest crocodile tears. You rubbed Linda’s back while she mourned the loss of her father, and the new truth about her husband. You played dumb when interrogated by some Southern private investigator, even giving Ransom an airtight alibi. You testified on his behalf in court with enough conviction to grant you an Emmy.

You’d gotten so far, devoted so much energy into him, that you simply refused to lose now.

To your friends, you’d seemed to lead a near perfect life. Dream job, dreamy boyfriend, dream bank account, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you just didn’t know what.

It dawned on you while sipping mimosas at the country club, Ransom playing tennis with his friends just a few yards away from you while Danielle showed off her brand new engagement ring, a .59 Carat Asscher Diamond, that if you heard her speak of again, would probably make you lose your shit.

You zoned out as she droned on and on about the shape, and how Matt proposed to her in their own private room in one of the most exclusive Parisian restaurants, instead focusing on how you could find yourself in the same position as that airhead next to you. In all honesty, you couldn’t stand the idea that someone was doing better than you, let alone someone in your own social circle. Dani got all the bragging rights of being engaged to the heir of some tech giant, being the first in your friend group to get eloped, and worst of all, Matt wasn’t even making her sign a prenup.

You blankly watched Ransom from afar, taking occasional sips from your sweet drink, while you thought of how you deserved all of that and more, and you were going to get it one way or another.

——

It didn’t take much to come up with something, your first and most obvious plan being to simply ask Ransom when he was going to propose to you. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you’d tried to approach him about this subject, you just wondered if maybe this time things would be different.

Panting heavily after a rather rough night in bed, you rolled off of your boyfriend’s chest and gave him a messy, yet sincere kiss. You knew your man well, and if there was any time to pop the question, it was in his post-nut haze.

“Baby,” you said breathily, “I wanna ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he responded casually, glancing over at you.

“When’re you gonna propose to me?” you hummed.

Ransom groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes, “this is about Matt and Dani, huh?” he tutted, then extended a hand out to your warm cheeks so he could gently caress one with his thumb. “Thought we agreed marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s stupid.”

You huffed in response.

Of fucking course.

“I never said that,” you muttered, setting a hand on his broad chest. “Besides, it’ll be good if you get pissed and decide to like, kill your dad or something. Y’know, spouses don’t have to testify against each other in court.”

Ransom chuckled as if this whole thing was funny, like your feelings were some kind of sick joke to him. “You know my lawyers, babe. They could prove that bees don’t make honey. That bears don’t shit in the forest. I appreciate your attempt, though. This has been some really nice pillow talk.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, pinching his nipple in retaliation before turning your back to him and yanking the blanket onto your side.

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised that he was being stubborn, most of the time you felt like you were pulling teeth from the man. But that’s why you had a backup plan! You always had a backup plan. That’s what separated you from your boyfriend. Where Ransom was extemporized and impulsive, you were calculating and prudent.

Although you devised your plan that very afternoon while watching your partner backhand small green balls, you were going to need some time to get everything in order, to prove Murphy and his stupid law wrong in making sure that everything that could go wrong wouldn’t.

After all, love was a game. And you sure as hell weren’t losing to Hugh Drysdale.

——

You sacrificed too much to have your plans ruined by some trust fund baby with impulsivity issues. You deserved your dream marriage, the stability you wished you had as a child. You wanted the white picket fence, and everything that came along with it. Your desire to be the best, to be perfect was what drove you to poke holes in every condom in the box, what led you to draw liters of your own blood in hopes of staging a fake crime scene, to buy a cheap getaway car and burner phone off of Craigslist, and reach out to a high school boyfriend who you knew was in a position as desperate as you.

You planted seeds of doubt in your friends throughout the following weeks, feeding them lies about Ransom’s behavior, how you were afraid of telling him that you did in fact see two faint red lines on that damn plastic stick– only half of the statement truly being false–, telling them that he was behaving erratically lately.

It all was going without a hitch. Ransom didn’t seem to notice anything was off, despite your frequent visits to the bathroom and newfound affinity for true crime documentaries.

You almost felt guilty, knowing the world of pain you were about to throw the man into. Granted, he deserved the pain. You were in a relationship with a genuinely terrible person, and that person had made a conscious effort not to commit to you. You tried to make this easy for him, give him a chance to say a few words to you and slide a ring on your finger, but no, he always seemed to take the hard route.

You slept like a baby the night before you were setting your plan in action. You made sure to uphold the facade of everything being fine, making Ransom a nice breakfast before sending him halfway across town to the hardware store with an oddly incriminating list.

Once he was out of the house, you hurried off to the fridge in the garage where you’d been keeping a small stash of your own blood. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done. You poured the blood throughout the kitchen, splattering bits of it on the counters and cupboards. You poorly cleaned the mess, just as he would.

You put your next move in motion, falsifying a home invasion. You tossed over a table and some chairs, throwing books and photos onto the floor, but left some aspects slightly untouched, like an upright picture frame to give yet another hint that things were not exactly what they appeared.

You left a tiny blue post-it note on the nightstand of Ransom’s side of the bed, a quick and simple doodle of a ring along with the first initial of your name inked onto the tiny piece of paper.

With that, you were off. Technically missing, soon-to-be presumed dead.

----

The days following your disappearance had gone even better than you’d initially planned. Local news coverage had been all over you, search and rescue groups were assiduously looking for you, your parents had opened a tip line, and begged for you to get home safe on news segments. But the best part of it all was that Ransom had been briefly found himself in police custody, only to be released shortly thereafter. His past of an accused murder quickly made your disappearance even more of a national story, and you watched the whole thing unravel from the safety and comfort of your high school boyfriend, Andy Barber’s Newton home.

Of course, you fed him the same lies you’d given to your friends, and seeing the rather lonely position he was in, he gladly let you stay with him. You were absolutely having a hay-day with it all, dedicating hours of your day to watching Ransom slowly unravel. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of you to enjoy torturing your partner so much, but he needed to learn his lesson. You deserved better. You needed Ransom to rise up to your level, allowing you to finally complete your image. To let you two appear to be the perfect couple. Really, this was all on him.

Andy, for the most part, had been a good host. He was gone for the majority of the day, dedicating himself to his work while you lounged around on his dangerously cozy couch. Around two weeks into your stay, you were sharing a box of pizza in the living room with your old lover when something interesting on the television caught your eye.

Ransom, broadcasted on CBS, being interviewed on your disappearance.

You watched with wide eyes as Ransom begged for your return on national television. It was one thing seeing your mother plead for you to come back, the same woman who had installed such toxic behavior in you sob for your return, but Ransom. You’d never loved him more than in that moment.

“Hugh, if you could tell Y/N one thing, what would it be?” the interviewer asked.

Ransom turned, looking straight at the camera, directly into your soul, “Y/N, I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I need you to come back safely, to see you, to hold you again. I’d give anything in the world for that right now,” he looked down, a tear falling down his cheek. “I can’t live without you in my life, I-”

His sentence was cut off by Andy grabbing the remote, and turning off the TV. You turned your head and frowned deeply at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked with a bit of a pout.

“I just couldn’t stand listening to him talk about you like he hasn’t treated you like shit for the past few years. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Your blood boiled. Andy was once a means to an end, but now he was interfering. He was clearly much too selfish to see that you and Ransom were quite obviously soulmates. A match made in hell.

You followed him to bed regardless, curling up on what had been your side of the bed for the past few days, and staring at the wall until Andy’s breaths moved from a soft and rhythmic pattern to loud snores. God, those snores were obnoxious.

You slipped out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing two soft ties from the drawer, and daintily tying his wrists to each side of the bedpost.

“What‘re you doing?” he mumbled, instinctively yanking both of his wrists as he awoke.

“I’m going back home,” you whispered.

“You can’t be serious,” Andy huffed, tugging on the restraint attached to the headboard.

You shook your head, “I am.”

“I should’ve known. Why would you do something like this? Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in with the law?”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in when the world finds out that you kidnapped me?” you retorted.

This threat seemed to wake him up right away, “what about this was kidnapping? I gave you a nice home, fed you, I didn’t even make a pass at you. I didn’t do shit to you,” he hissed. “You think I can’t prove that? I’m a lawyer, for god's sake!”

You nearly laughed, “Okay, Andy,” you paused for a moment, “As a lawyer, who do you think everyone’ll believe? Someone who the world was on a wild goose chase for in the last two weeks? Or the man with a family history of violence? Must I remind you that your father and your son have killed people?”

Andy shook his head, face pinched in sorrow at the mention of his deceased son, clearly a low blow. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Swear to god that you won’t tell a soul what happened here,” you leaned over him, getting right in his face. “Or I promise, Andrew Barber, I will ruin you. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, or disbarred, or whatever the hell I decide to do with you. So keep your goddamn lips shut.”

You pulled away and he solemnly nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. You loosened the fabric around his left wrist and walked out of the room. You picked up the keys to Andy’s Audi on your way out, checking the time as you adjusted the driver's seat.

9:45 PM. Fatherhood really changed the man.

You pushed that thought aside and began your drive home, which turned out to be a surprisingly short trip. When you pulled up in front of your home, you were met with a slew of reporters outside of the house, along with a police car that seemed to be permanently camped there.

As you slowly got out of the car, a gasp, followed by a loud silence fell across the crowd. You limped for dramatic effect up the driveway as cameras followed you, and glanced back at them pathetically. From your peripheral view, you noticed the officers get out of their vehicle.

You finally got to your door, ringing the doorbell and waiting. You blinked harshly a few times, conjuring up the tears you needed to really make a spectacle of the event. After a few minutes, Ransom opened the door, eyes widening as he looked at you. He stepped out, and you wrapped him in as big of a hug as you could manage, genuinely missing his embrace. It was possible that you even let out a few real tears in the moment.

Your emotional embrace was interrupted by the man you recognized as Lieutenant Elliott, the same officer who’d been assigned to Harlan’s case.

“Ma’am,” he began, only to be shut down by you.

“Please, just let me be with my boyfriend,” you pleaded, crocodile tears streaming down your face as you spoke with the officer. You still needed time to get your story straight.

“Just give us the night, Lieutenant. We’ll come in first thing tomorrow morning,” Ransom added, furrowing his brows at the officer that he’d come into contact with far too many times.

He looked to his partner, who shrugged, then to you, “enjoy your night.”

Cameras flashed around you as civilians, journalists, and newscasters alike attempted to catch your attention. You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dramatically pulled him inside, insincerely attempting to hide your face by ducking and covering half of your face with your arm.

As soon as you were in the privacy of your own home, Ransom threw you against a wall.

“Why. The fuck. Would you pull a stunt like that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes wild, and a hand around your throat.

You whimpered as he tightened his grip, rage clearly flowing through his system uncontrollably.

“Do you know what you did to me? You almost had me thrown in fucking jail. Do you understand that?”

You nodded weakly, “Ran,” you whispered, “the baby,” you glanced down at your stomach.

He paused, dropping his grip on your neck and staring at you in awe, “no…”

You nodded again.

“How…? You told me you were on the pill… You- you made me use protection…”

“Surprise?” you said weakly.

“You’re a psychotic bitch.”

“I’m your psychotic bitch. And no child of mine will be born out of wedlock,” you taunted.

“That’s what this is about?” Ransom laughed manically. “You did this all because I won’t fucking marry you?”

You didn’t even have to respond.

“I should send you to the loony bin right fucking now.”

“What happened to all those things you said to me on TV?”

“You’re fucking delusional. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ve had to put up with you and your stupid little antics for way too long. How do you think I felt when you killed your own grandfather?”

Ransom scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “you are so fucked up.”

“I’m the fucked up one? You killed your own blood in cold blood! You’re unhinged!”

“You faked your own death for attention, and got pregnant while doing it! Is that baby even mine?”

“The fuck are you trying to say, Hugh?”

“I asked if it’s even mine.”

“Really. You’re accusing me of cheating on you. That’s rich considering Mia, Layla, and whoever the fuck else. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous? You couldn’t have a normal adult conversation with me!”

“Are you kidding me? I asked you time after time to marry me and it was always some bullshit excuse!” you wagged a finger in his face as you spoke. “Oh, commitment scares me, oh, marriage is just a piece of paper, oh-“ you mocked his voice in a deeper tone before you were cut off by the sting of his hand against your cheek.

“Can you shut the hell up?” he growled at you as you held your own cheek, before you reached out and slapped him back, “I can’t believe that I’m stuck with such a deranged bitch for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe work on your vows a little, dear. I don’t think that those words are as charming to me as they’d be to the rest of our family and friends.”

“You can’t be serious,” he groaned.

“But I am,” you hummed, rubbing your cheek softly once again. “Look at how fast your life fell apart without me here. How quickly the public turned on you. Imagine how upset they’d be if you left me. I love you, Ran. I really do. You and I are perfect for each other, can’t you see that now?”

Ransom took a step away from you, pacing slowly in front of you. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, and took a long and drawn out breath, clearly at a loss for words.

“So when should we have the wedding? I’ve always wanted a Spring wedding, and I know it’s a little short notice, but I don’t want to be showing too much in my wedding dress,” you grabbed Ransom’s bicep gently, as if you were just having a regular old day with him, as if you hadn’t been choked and slapped moments ago. “But we can make it work. We always make it work, right?”

Your now fiancé stared vacantly at the wall ahead of him, giving you a slow, empty nod of agreement.

“It’s settled then,” you smirked. “I’ll start looking at venues. You find me a nice ring, okay Honey? One that puts all those other bitches’ rings to shame,” you sighed pleasantly to yourself, “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before hurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard a distant shriek of “fuck,” from Ransom, but you truly could not care less.

You hopped into bed, grabbing your laptop from its charger and promptly opening it. You couldn’t help but to smile at your own reflection on the empty black screen. This wasn’t how you imagined your engagement, but you did the impossible. You tied yourself down to Hugh Ransom Drysdale, he went down kicking in screaming, and you were likely in for a lifetime of cheating and resentment, but you did it nonetheless.

You finally won.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #dark!reader #ransom drysdale x dark!reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey x you #knives out #knives out fanfic #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

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lexiwright · 4 years ago

Text

Building Jealousy

Benny watts x reader

A/N- so hey first benny sorry. This was requested by Anonymous with the second prompt. This is my first in a while so I'm a bit rust but I really hope it's well received and yeah.

Also a side note that isn't import but when writing this Ive been listening to ”You” by petit biscuit. I'm not sure why but any time I've been reading anything to do with benny or writing him this is my go to song. But yes thanks for reading and ya.

Word count - 1720

Warnings - none

Prompt 2 “your jealous aren't you.”

You weren’t amazing at chess. You knew that. Next to people like Beth Harmon and Benny watts you were well aware of the fact. But it was an interesting game which you did good enough when you put your mind to it that you had entered a few tournaments over the years just for the adrenaline rush. You’ve managed to build up to a good enough level that you were state champion for a while but it only lasted a little while.

You’ve known benny a while. And Beth too. You were closer with benny and for a time you thought maybe the pair of yous could become something more. But as soon as Beth came into the frame you lost his interest and you went back to just admiring him without him returning any ounce of feelings to you.

You met Beth in Mexico. Before the great loss against Borgov. You barely got past the second round and lost in the third but hey you weren’t to bothered. But you had noticed how often Beth appeared alone and you decided to see if she wanted company. She seemed to take to you fairly well and yous quickly became friends. After her mum died you comforted her for a little while before you both had to go home. You understood she needed a bit of time and you went to New York for a little. You’d called up benny in advance who wasn’t doing much that weekend so offered his living room.

Accepting the offer and hoping to get to spend some more time with the man you arrived outside his house at a quarter to midnight. Shattered out of your mind from travel. You came in and greeted him as an old friend before you sat down at his table that displayed his board and had a look to see what he was playing.

It took you a second before you realised he’d been playing Beths last game with borgov. It’s angered you a little bit you tried to not care.

“How was the trip Y/N? “ asked benny as he rounded the table to the kitchen for some glasses.

“Nothing special. How’ve you been keeping?” You yawned and watched as he poured you a glass of milk.

“Ah, you know. Not a lot to do around here. Just waiting for the next tournament as always. I hear you met with Beth Harmon. What do you think of her?” He asked. Placing the glasses in the microwave for you both.

“Of course. She seemed nice. We got along well enough. Shame about her mum though but her playing is beyond amazing.” You accepted the glass of warm milk as you spoke and failed to notice as he tensed at your praise of the redhead.

He pushed his hair back and sat down in front of you and watched for a second as you took a sip of your milk. Studying your face with admiration.

Leaning forward, elbows on the table, he leaned his face on hand, two fingers tapping his cheek. Something you noticed he did when he was in thought. You tossed him a quizzical look before questioning him.

“What?”

He took a breathe and held it for a second before speaking in a gentle tone. “You look tired. Are you okay? “

You chuckled at him. Thinking he was joking. “Well, Benny I have just got off a plane so of course, I’m tired.”

But he stopped you. “No. It’s more than that.” You didn’t know what to say and just stared at him confused. He cleared his throat and moved back and gestured at the board. Still set up with Beth's last match. And spoke, “care for a few speed games?”

You rolled your eyes. You rarely win against him at speed chess. You know he was only doing this to show off. But you indulged him and let him flex his bored muscles. Yous played about ten rounds, winning two and drawing one while the king in a loose black striped shirt won 7. And you were sure he was going easy on you but you didn’t mind. It’s still fun.

Once he was sure you knew who was the best player and had finished your warm milk he suggested time for bed. Which you gladly accepted. He left you with the blow-up but knew you were too stubborn to let him do it.

You said goodnight and melted into one of the comfy seats rather than taking the blow-up bed and found yourself involuntarily drifting to sleep where you sat.

You woke with a start as you were shaken awake. You were on the plane and the air hostess was shaking you awake. Clipping in before landing you looked out the window. You were landing in New York again. Only this time you weren’t going to stay at Benny's. Beth was there now.

It had been a few weeks or so since you last stayed. You smiled at the memory of being woken up by a laughing Benny cause you hadn’t made it into bed last time.

You were staying at a hotel a while from Bennys. There was a small tournament that you thought would be fun to go too.

After leaving New York last time you’d called up Beth to see how she was doing. She had Harry beltik with her so at least she wasn’t alone.

You ended up taking for hours. Going over matches verbally for the fun of it and discussing favourite theory’s. This turned into a habit every few days and yous both seemed to get along well.

She called when Harry decided to leave. You could tell she was upset but didn’t want to push it too much. She called before her match with Benny. After the losing rounds of speed chess and you told her not to worry. And she called when she beat him. And then the next day when she told you she was going to New York with him.

You were happy for then although a little sad you wouldn’t get to spend time with him but you understood why.

You had got there a few days earlier so when you heard cleo was in town you opted to spend some time with her.

It had been a week or so and you had been invited to benny's along with Cleo and some boys. You went and was happy to catch up with Beth and Cleo.

You didn’t notice a dismayed benny who was disappointed your attention wasn’t on him.

He thought he could win you over by playing Beth in speed chess but even then he lost spectacularly. You sat out for the games. Not feeling like losing today. But when you and Cleo applauded beths wins. You failed to see just how livid he was that she impressed you more.

He went to bed sourly that night. Tossing and turning. Unable to get the beaming pride for Beth he saw on your face as you clapped her and not him.

Your third match of the tournament had been the next day. Normally if you think your gonna struggle you call benny and get some advice while you listen to him speak. His voice soothing you from nerves even if you end up loosing. But he knew that the match was today and was subtly waiting for the phone to ring. However when it did this time Beth picked up and you felt that you’d annoyed benny enough over the years so you decided to talk to Beth instead.

She was fine with this. Beth is proud of being needed. However, she ( unlike you) noticed the way benny drummed his fingers on the counter and stared at her as she said the first few words “Oh, hello Y/N...”

she noticed as his pupils dilated and the drumming stopped.

He had expected her to hand him the phone after that but when she didn’t he couldn’t understand why. And when Beth started talking about the game you were about to play he could feel as something boiled in him. He was who you needed. Not Beth. Yes, Beth was better than him but you needed him. Benny like being able to give you that little bit of ease before a scary match.

He waited a little while longer in case Beth gave him the phone. Till he realised she wasn’t going too.

“Is that Y/N?” He questioned harshly.

Beth just nodded and continued the conversation.

Benny couldn’t take it. And marched over to stand in front of Beth. “What does she want?” He asked. Even though he knew.

“Well she’s got her match today and she said she was nervous,” Beth said deadpanning.

The look on Benny watts faces told Beth something was afoot. Then she realised and gave him a smug look as she said her next words slow and loud enough for Y/N to hear.

“Your jealous aren’t you?”

He froze for a moment. Realising what she said was right.

He barely registered as Beth spoke to you again apologizing “sorry Y/N. I’ve got a green ogre here that I’m going to pass you too. Good luck for the match. “

She preset to phone into his hand and moved for him to sit in her seat.

He held the phone to his ear to hear your voice and he frowned.

“Benny what’s wrong”

He paused thinking before speaking with an almost whiny tone.

“ you think you can drop me cause I was beaten by Beth Harmon at speed chess, no, uh uh. I'm here to stay Y/N L/N and I won’t sit back and let you go off to someone else. No. Your mine got it.”

You were speechless. You hadn’t realised benny felt like thins. He realised what he said.

“ well eh you know, your not my property that’s not what I mean. I just.”

He took a deep breath and spoke with confidence. “ I need you Y/N. You're like the queen to my king. I feel I’m nothing without you. So please don’t brush me off for someone better.”

You smiled over the phone and he could hear it in your voice. “ I’d never brush you off benny.”

He sighed in relief and smiled.

#benny watts x reader #benny watts #beth harmon #queens gambit #x reader #benny #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster

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quietmyfearswith · 4 years ago

Text

cartoons ; preferences

warnings — fluff (?)

characters — andy barber, steve rogers, ransom drysdale, bucky barnes, lance tucker, syverson, august walker

a/n — THIS IS A DDLG FIC,, i understand that for some their litlte age or little space activities varies for some but for this sake lets imagine that the reader loves to watch cartoons,, feedback is appreciated :)

masterlist

As a reward for her good behavior, Andy allowed Y/N an extra half hour to watch television and she chose to watch her favorite cartoon — Higglytown Heroes. “Poor kitty!” She gasped out as the kitten was stuck on a tree. The lawyer was seated on the couch beside her with his hand rubbing her back as he quietly read a case file, “Kip is stuck now too!” Silently chuckling at her blow by blow report of the events of the cartoon he proceeded to read until he was summoned, “Dada, what will happen now?” Her eyes displayed worry and curiosity so he set the folder on the side table before making a guess, “Maybe they’ll ask someone from help? Let’s watch it, little missy.”

A few moments later, the characters were singing a song to reveal that they would be asking help from the firefighters. “You see that, missy? Who rides a big red vehicle with sirens?” His question got her racking her brain for a bit before answering, “Is it from the firefighters, dada?” Smiling widely as he pecked her cheek, he praised her, “Such a smart girl!” Her giggles indicated she loved the praise he was giving her, “The firefighters are the heroes because they help others.” Pondering on what he said, she stared at his bearded face with her lips pursed with a deep stare. “What are you thinking about, missy?” It was unusual for her to be this silent and serious when she was deep in little space, so it was slightly concerning. “Heroes help people; right, dada?” Andy nodded as he revisited the cartoon, “Mhm, just how the firefighters helped Kip and the kittens.” Holding his hand, she played with it as she concluded, “So does that make dada a hero too?” With a mouth hung agape, no words left the lawyer’s mouth as he was dumbfounded as his girl continued her explanation, “You help people and protect them right?” Planting a kiss on his bearded cheek, he smiled as her words of, “You’re my favorite hero, dada,” Melted his heart in the best way possible.

“Little one, what do you want to do today?” Hearing August’s deep voice tore her attentive eyes away from the television screen as she smiled sweetly at him, “Can we bake that cake, daddy?” Following where her finger pointed to where Mr. Bean was currently slicing a piece of the chocolate cake. Sitting down adjacent to where his beloved was sitting on the floor, he tried to convince her from doing something else, “Perhaps you’d rather go to the park? Or even color?” Crossing her arms as she let out a huff — an indication that her mind was set on imitating the animation meal, “But daddy I want to try the cake! It looks so yummy and I want to taste it!” Comparing her attitude to the previous times she whined about wanting something, she was relatively tame — so it ultimately convinced him that there was no harm in complying with what she wanted. “Okay, we’ll bake the cake,” She clapped her hands, excited at the thought of getting to taste the pastry; but her glee was halted as the CIA agent raised a brow at her, “But you have to wait a little while okay? Daddy still needs to find a recipe for the cake and see if we have the right ingredients; can you be a good girl in the meantime?” Nodding her head up and down, she proceeded to clasp her hands together on her lap as she returned to silently watching the cartoon. Draping an arm over her shoulders, his other hand fished out for the phone on his pocket and searched for the recipe; and he did find one after a few minutes.

With a kiss on her shoulder, he then excused himself to the kitchen to check if they have all the required ingredients; and when they did have everything it was then he called for her, “Turn off the television, little one. I found a recipe and we can bake that chocolate cake!” Never in their entire relationship had he seen her comply instantaneously and with a smile on her face. Standing beside him he smirked as he placed the cute apron he got her, “Are you ready to be a good baker, little one?” Jumping on her feet she nodded as she exclaimed, “I am, daddy! Can’t wait to feed you what we baked,” To show her appreciation of him going along with what she wants, she stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his scruffy cheek, “Thank you so much, daddy. I love you.”

“Tătic, what color do you like most — pink, blue, or green?” She asked the former Winter Soldier without diverting her gaze from the piece of paper she was drawing on; the man in question however stopped reading the newspaper he was reading as he peered up. “I like the color blue the most, sweetheart; why’d you ask?” Continuing with her drawing, she just mumbled a soft, “Nothing,” And there was really nothing alarming about her behavior so he shrugged it off and continued to read about current events. After a few silent minutes, Y/N asked him again, “Would you rather be an owl, a cat, or a chameleon?” Bucky was able to connect some of the dots — the three colors and animals she mentioned was reminiscent of her favorite cartoon, “Why are you asking me about PJ Masks, sweetie?” Having been caught, she removed her focus from her drawing to look up from where he was sitting on the couch while she was sitting cross-legged at the floor. “I’m drawing something for you, tătic. Please don’t take a peek yet.”

She so sweetly requested it from him that he had just nodded and answered, “I’d rather be a chameleon, sweetie,” Before reading through the text again. Folding the newspaper and placing it by the side table; deciding that he needed to scratch an itch, he quietly lowered himself to sit on the floor. Once doing so, he inched closer to his left so he could try to sneak a peek at what Y/N was drawing; but it was as if spending so much time with the super soldier she gained spy skills, she sensed what he was trying to do and was quick to call him out on it, “Tătic, stop peeking!” Wrapping both his arms on her waist as he rubbed his forehead against her arm as he dramatically sighed, “But sweetheart I wanna see what you’re drawing.” Matching his sigh with a dramatic one of her own, she then pushed his face away and grabbed her drawing pad. “Okay here it is, tătic,” She showed him a suit she was sketching for him, it was blue and she tried to replicate Gecko’s scale in the suit but it proved too difficult to do so. “Wanted to design a new suit for you, tătic; you know just like in PJ Masks.” Unable to let out an audible coo, Bucky hugged Y/N in his arms as he planted kisses on the top of her head, “I love it so much, sweetheart. I love you so much.”

“What are you doing to my hair, doll?” Steve wondered as she was sitting on his lap, with her tongue slightly poking out of her cheeks as her hands were ruffling through his hair in her efforts to style him. “Just fixing your hair, sir.” Her answer just confused the retired Avenger even more as he just brushed his hair earlier; but apparently it wasn’t good enough for her. She was arranging the strands of his hair so they’d stand up instead of his usual look. “Only a little bit more and you’ll look like Ryder.” At the mention of that name, Steve was slightly concerned that he had a rival for his lover’s affection, “Who’s Ryder, baby doll?” Feeling giddy with the nickname she was called, she failed to focus on how he asked the question venomously. “The team leader of PAW Patrol, sir.” He let out a relieved sigh as relaxed visibly as he allowed her to rummage through his golden locks.

“Why do you want to style me like Ryder?” Halting her movements through his hair, she grinned widely upon seeing that his hair now looked like the cartoon character’s. “Because you’re so much like him, sir. You’re both leaders and love dogs too!” The last part peaked his attention as she seemed extra giddy at the mention of dogs, “Is this your way of telling me you want a dog too?” Placing her head against his chest, she nodded as she shyly mumbled, “Yes, sir.” His fingertips grazed the skin of her shoulders, “Then are you gonna name ‘em after the dogs in PAW Patrol?” The suggestion had her enthusiastically nodding against his chest, “I’d love that so much, sir!” Hugging her frame flush against him, Steve then decided to play along with her, “Maybe someday, when you prove to be responsible enough; if I’m Ryder, who are you then?” Removing her face from his chest she beamed, “The Princess of Barkingburg! Which means you need to comply with my orders of us getting a dog!”

gif by @henry-cavlll i really wanted this gif but it wouldnt appear on the gif finder

“Aika, come here, doggy!” Upon hearing her name called, the German Shepherd plopped herself down beside the girl who was currently watching cartoons as she was watching her favorite cartoon as she waited for Sy. Stroking her brown fur she looked at the dog who was staring at her with curious eyes, “Do you like the color red, Aika?” As the dog laid her head down on her thigh, the little girl took it as a no. “Why not? Clifford likes the cower red,” She pointed to the huge dog who was licking Emily as she was brushing his fur. “Maybe Captain will let me put red color on you,” She then began to brush her own nimble fingers against the brown and black fur of the dog as she imagined what it would look like with the color red instead.

“I’m home, baby girl!” Sy announced as he closed the front door behind him. Her head turned to his appearing figure with a wide smile as she waved enthusiastically, “Captain! I had a bright idea.” Having his curiosity piqued, he told her to remain seated on the couch as he placed some of the groceries he bought on the kitchen island and sat beside her. Not even more than a second after he sat down, she immediately perched herself on his lap, calling for Aika as well to scooch closer to the both of them. “What are you up to, baby?” Bopping her nose with his finger and she playfully chased his finger to bite it; pointing to the television where Clifford the Big Red Dog was still playing, “Clifford is red, right?” Not knowing where she was going with this, he just nodded and looked at her with curious eyes as she pointed to their dog who was laying on her crossed paws, “Can we please color Aika red? Please?” Chuckling at her suggestion, the former soldier could only shake his head, “No we can’t color her red, babygirl.” At the sound of the rejection of her idea, Y/N pouted in hopes to persuade him to change his mind, “But you colored her green!” Sighing, he held her hands as he explained, “Captain only colored her green so she wouldn’t be taken away.” With a huff she crossed her arms as she continued to whine, “I want a red dog.” Coming up with a bright idea, Sy then offered, “How about I buy you a Clifford stuffie? That way you’ll have your own red dog.” Almost immediately her pout left her mouth as her eyes shined at the thought of having one and she wrapped her arms around his neck as she excitedly squealed, “Yes please, Captain! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“What’s going on, papa?” Y/N wondered as she found Lance perched down on the floor as he was tinkling with his laptop; she awoke from her nap and instead of having the gold medalist wake her up it was the faint groans and curses he let out that woke her up. Looking up from where he was trying to get the device to work, he put on a smile upon seeing his girl, “I can’t get the laptop to turn on, angel.” He was only slightly alarmed when she jumped and down, “Oh let me help, papa! Hold on, let me get my tools!” He could barely process anything she said as she was quick to leave him on the floor.

Dismissing her behavior, he turned his attention back to his laptop and stared at it as if his gaze would get it back to work. “Handy Y/N at your service! You break it, I fix it!” She said the cartoon character’s famous catchphrase, she held onto her own version of the toolbox he got her as a surprise. Smiling, Lance patted the spot beside him as he called her for help, “Hello handy Y/N! Can you please help me fix my laptop?” With a slight pout, she pretended to inspect the device for a little bit before grabbing Felipe, the yellow screwdriver that seemed to be her favorite character, and pretended to screw around the device. As she turned to place the tool box on its container and was rummaging through her tools, the gymnast sneakily pushed the power button and by some miracle it did turn on, “Look at that, angel! You fixed my laptop!” She jumped a bit at the sound of his voice but smiled widely upon seeing the screen light up, “I guess Handy Manny really teaches you how to fix things huh, angel?” Nodding her head she smiled brightly as she grabbed her toolbox and struck a pose, “It did, papa! And now I can always fix something up for you; you only have to pay me with kissies and cuddles!”

“King, can I pick what we’re both going to wear?” Ransom looked up at the girl who laid beside him, they both woke up a few minutes ago and they were just cuddling in bed as they traced shapes into each other’s skin; usually she would ask if she could dress herself, never him as well. Seeing how she hasn’t had the chance to slip into her comfort space usually — thanks to her demanding priorities — he didn’t see any harm in letting her do so; after all, he wanted her to enjoy her Christmas break. With a sweet kiss to her forehead he allowed it, “Okay princess, you can choose what we both wear. But why stop there? Choose what you want us to do this morning too.” Her eyes lit up with excitement at what he said as she stood up from the bed, leaving the former playboy to whine about missing her warmth, and search through their shared walk-in closet about the clothing articles she was looking for. Returning with their matching cable knit sweaters and a pair of plaid pajamas that had a king and queen symbol sewn on it. With a raised brow, Ransom silently wondered if she was planning this for a while and her excited squeal of, “Wear this one please, king — this way we’re like B1 and B2!”

“So that’s why you wanted us to match huh?” He concluded out loud as he sat up on the edge of the bed so he could reach for her to tickled her sides; in between her fit of giggles, Y/N managed to confirm it, “Mhm, I wanted to be like them. And this is my way too of making up for not spending so much time with my king.” Displeased with the whiff of sadness at her statement; grabbing for both of her hands, he held it against his as he rubbed soothing circles on it, “Princess, I completely understand that you were buried in your workload, okay? I’m so proud that you got to accomplish everything right away,” He paused his little speech to plant kisses on the back of both her palms before inquiring, “So have you decided what we’re going to do?” Nodding her head yes she shared what her ideal morning would look like, “Maybe you can make my favorite breakfast, king? Then watch ``Bananas in Pyjamas together?” Ransom could feel his heart flutter with how simple she was — which was a stark contrast to how the people that surrounded him for all his life was extremely materialistic — that all she wanted was to be with him for that would make her happy. Grabbing the clothes she had picked out in one hand as the other hand was dragging his princess on the other to guide them to the bathroom to change he jokingly scolded her, “Then what are we waiting for? We can’t let B1 and B2 waiting for us for too long!”

“I understand we have a holiday break, but I just wanted to go over the contents of the report one more time,” Will tiredly explained as he was having his final video conference before his holiday break. Y/N was currently watching Twirlywoos in the living room. Redirecting her gaze from the television screen to her bubba who was stressed out and she wanted to help him relax — but knew that one way of doing so is by not bothering him right now as he worked. “Okay, see you all again on January 3rd,” Was the last thing Will said before ending the call and groaning out loud as he rubbed his hands on his eyes, “Bubba, are you okay?” Hearing her concerned and small voice snapped him out of his distress; he was then quick to put up a smile on his lips as he left his home office that was adjacent to the living room and sat beside her on the couch. “I am now, munchkin. Bubba doesn’t have to work for two weeks and you have him all to yourself.” With that Y/N smiled brightly as well and kissed all over his face, “Okay calm down, munchkin,” He laughed feeling ticklish with all her kisses, “How about a snack?” Nodding her head, she accepted the help he offered her to stand from the floor, “Yes please, bubba.”

Grabbing her hand he led her to the sit on one of the chairs on the breakfast bar, and just as Will was about to head to the pantry to grab some snacks he remembered, “Oh hold on, I just need to fix my things before fixing you a snack, okay?” The business consultant expected that his girl would be disappointed but she was the opposite, “Can I help you with that, bubba?” He had to take a double look at her as he wondered out loud, “Are you sure you want to help? And I don’t think you know exactly how to do so, munchkin.” She pouted when he doubted her capabilities, “I do! I learned from the Twirlywoos,” She pointed to the cartoons playing on the background — the family of four were now carelessly shoving all the beach items inside the tent — and since this was her favorite show, she’d watch this particular episode multiple times and picked up quite a few things. Will wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist to lead her into his home office, “Very well, my Chickadee munchkin, show me what you learned from the show.”

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

Text

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 7: Screw This.

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: Day 7 of the threeway collab between myself @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @jennmurawski13…and Ransom is getting no better11

Series Masterlist.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Yes.”

“Ok, let me rephrase that…”you shifted your weight a little “Are you sure you can do this?”

Ransom let out an annoyed snort through his nose and turned his eyes to look up at you. “Doll, how hard can it be?”

You really didn’t want to answer that question, as to anyone else with half a logical brain, following simple instructions on how to piece together a crib wouldn’t be so hard at all. But to Ransom, the mere fact that there were instructions to follow was kinda making you a little uneasy, as he had a problem with doing anything he was told to do at the best of times. Ransom’s brow furrowed as he clocked the look on your face and he rolled his eyes.

“You have so little faith in me.”

“Can you blame me?” you spluttered “You turned all the washing pink a few weeks back, then you almost poisoned everyone, not to mention the incident with the tire jack!”

“This is different.” He said confidently as he began to remove the outer packaging of the crib.

“Is it?”

“Yes, Y/N!” he groaned with an air of exasperation “Look, I know you have zero faith in me whatsoever, but what else is new?”

“Ran…” you started to protest, and he shrugged you away very matter-of-factly.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he deftly changed the subject and you sighed recognising your dismissal. In all fairness he was right, you were due to meet your friend for lunch in half an hour so…

Ransom turned his head towards you, his lips brushing yours softly, the annoyance he had displayed seconds ago completely forgotten. “Love you too. Both of you.”

With a smile you headed out of the room and bustled about grabbing your coat, scarf and purse. You stepped outside your home and as you made your way down the gravel drive to your new car, Ransom having finally put his foot down and purchased the Mercedes he’d been eying up for you, you glanced back up at the window of the room that was to be your baby boy’s nursery and pulled out your phone.

“Hey Daddy, it’s me. I was wondering if you would do me a favour…”

*****

Ransom would never have thought in a million years that he’d be doing this. Putting together a crib for his unborn son in the nursery that the pair of you had almost completed. Kids had most certainly not been on the agenda. Mind you, neither had marriage. But Y/N…well, she’d not only done the unthinkable and tamed him away from his play-boy days, she’d completely and utterly hooked him. And he wasn’t ever going to let her get away. So he’d bought a ring, they’d bought a house together…and then one drunken night and forgotten pill later wham, he’d knocked her up.

As such here he was, in one of the spare rooms that was no longer spare as it now belonged to his unborn child. The colour was picked, paint was purchased…but he drew the line at decorating. That was something that happily you had both agreed was to be done by a professional. In an hour he’d managed to get three sides of the crib together. And they were even and matched the photograph perfectly. But this fourth side…the side that was supposed to go up and down along a set of runners was not playing ball.

“Son of a bitch…” he cursed after what felt like the one hundredth attempt at getting the little wheels to line up “You’re gonna fucking work you fucking piece of…”

“Ransom?”

He paused as the familiar voice drifted up the large stairs and he gave an exasperated sigh. Of course she’d called her dad to check in on him.

“In the nursery.” He called back, a little gruffly. Ransom would never admit this, but the fact that his father-in-law actually cared enough to make the 30 minute drive over to check on him was kind of nice. His own father would have simply sniggered and put the phone down.

But then, Richard Drysdale was an asshole. Y/N’s father was not. And he most certainly was not going to allow his boy to become one either. Well, not a complete one anyway…he had to have some attitude after all, he was a Drysdale.

“Hey Son.” Ransom looked up as Y/N’s dad walked into the room. “Y/N called me before, said you were fixing up the furniture. I thought you might need a hand.”

“She really doesn’t trust me does she?” Ransom snorted and her dad laughed.

“If it’s any consolation, her mother is exactly the same.” He soothed as Ransom straightened up “And I don’t think it’s a case of not trusting you. When me and her brother put the crib together for his kid, it was a pain in the ass to get right.”

Ransom inhaled sharply, his hands falling to his hips “Done ok so far.” He replied a little sullenly.

“Yeah, I can see.” His father-in-law nodded “I just thought I’d check. If you don’t need me, then I can go.” He held his hands up, palms facing Ransom in a conciliatory manner “I got stuff to do so.”

Ransom watched him turn to leave and followed him out of the room with his eyes. He looked at the final piece of the crib before he gave a soft groan and quickly strode after his wife’s father.

“Actually…” he spoke, watching as he paused at the top of the stairs “I can’t get the last piece to line up right.”

He stopped short of actually asking for help, but he didn’t need to. Y/Father’s/Name turned and smiled, patting him gently on the shoulder as he strode back towards the nursery. He stooped to examine the sides and then stood up, pointing.

“This screw,” he said, and Ransom looked at it,“just needs tightening. The head is jutting out a little too far. Once it’s flush to the side then the runners should line up.”

Ransom blinked and then sighed, his head hanging dejectedly “Seriously? That’s it.”

“Hey!” His father-in-law chuckled, “easy thing to miss. Come on, get it screwed in and I’ll help you lift it. Then I think we can safely say a beer is in order.” He then checked his watch “Huh, might even catch the Red-Sox if we’re lucky.”

At that Ransom perked up a little. Another thing he would never admit was that he enjoyed the way her father would simply do stuff like that with him, things his own dad had never wanted to do. Sit, drink beer, watch a game…talk.

Fuck, he was going soft.

He picked up the screw driver and knelt down, angling it slightly so he could reach and lined the head up. He gave three sharp screws to the right but on the fourth the screwdriver slipped and he felt a sharp pain in his left hand.

“Fuck!” he yelled, drawing back instantly as he glanced down and saw the blood oozing from his palm tracing a path down his wrist.

“Here, let me see…” Y/Father’s/Name stepped forward quickly, reaching for Ransom’s arm. He frowned and then looked at Ransom who had gone pale. “Looks pretty deep.”

Ransom swallowed, taking a deep breath as his head began to spin. Fuck, he hated blood.

“Ransom? Son? You okay?”

“I err, I don’t feel…” he took another deep breath and then with a thud he hit the floor.

*****

Don’t Panic.

If there was ever a phrase do make you do just that, it was those simple two words. Which your dad had uttered when he had called you to tell you there had been an accident and he was on his way to the ER with Ransom. You and your friend abandoned the basket full of baby items you’d indulgently been about to purchase after a cheeky trip to the baby boutique one down from the restaurant you’d eaten in, and you’d rushed out of the store, making your way straight to the hospital. By the time you had located Ransom’s room, your dad was stood outside chatting to a nurse.

“What happened?” you demanded and your dad turned to look at you.

“His hand slipped when he was screwing a part of the crib together.” Your dad offered an explanation. “Gave me a scare though, completely out of it he was for a good 2 minutes or so.”

With a soft sigh, you rolled your eyes and pushed the door open. Ransom looked up at you from where he was sat on the bed, his hand heavily bandaged, face pale.

“Hey!” you said, making your way to his side. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “Just stabbed myself.”

“My dad said. What did you do that for?” you frowned.

“It wasn’t like I did it on purpose, sweetheart.” He drawled, narrowing his eyes. “It’s not a big deal. Just waiting for someone to take me down to X-Ray to make sure I’ve not damaged anything major”

You arched an eyebrow, a grin playing across your face. “Big enough of a deal to make you pass out from the pain.”

“It was nothing to do with the pain.” He mumbled sullenly. “You know I don’t like blood.”

You chuckled as you sat on the bed next to him, your hand gently pressing against his forehead. He felt a little clammy. “Yeah, you’re gonna be no use what-so-ever when I have the baby.”

“I don’t intend on being at that end.” He looked up at you, shrugging.

“No? You wanna be up there holding my hand, telling me how amazing I am?” you asked, your hand gently running up his neck.

“Maybe.” he replied, his head laying on your shoulder, seeking out comfort like the huge baby he was, his nose nuzzling into your neck.

“Gee thanks.” You replied with a scoff

“I just don’t wanna see you squeeze a baby out of your….you know.” he waved his non bandaged hand, as he moved his head to look at you, a cheeky smirk flickering across his face “I imagine it would be like watching my favourite bar burn down. Knowing that it’s completely wrecked and going to take a while before I can head back in for a drink.”

You blinked as his words registered and then slapped him harshly round the back of the head, causing him to yelp.

“Maybe instead of a fucking x-ray they can scan you for a brain.” You glared at him. “Not that they’d find one.”

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #real life tasks with ransom drysdale

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby. Day 7: Screw This.

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: Day 7 of the threeway collab between myself @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @jennmurawski13 …and Ransom is getting no better11

Series Masterlist.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Yes.”

“Ok, let me rephrase that…”you shifted your weight a little “Are you sure you can do this?”

Ransom let out an annoyed snort through his nose and turned his eyes to look up at you. “Doll, how hard can it be?”

“You have so little faith in me.”

“Can you blame me?” you spluttered “You turned all the washing pink a few weeks back, then you almost poisoned everyone, not to mention the incident with the tire jack!”

“This is different.” He said confidently as he began to remove the outer packaging of the crib.

“Is it?”

“Yes, Y/N!” he groaned with an air of exasperation “Look, I know you have zero faith in me whatsoever, but what else is new?”

“Ran…” you started to protest, and he shrugged you away very matter-of-factly.

“Okay, I’m going.” You padded into the room, over to where he was now knelt on the floor surrounded by various tools and pieces of the crib, and dropped a kiss to his forehead “I’ll see you later. Love you.” Ransom turned his head towards you, his lips brushing yours softly, the annoyance he had displayed seconds ago completely forgotten. “Love you too. Both of you.”

With a smile you headed out of the room and bustled about grabbing your coat, scarf and purse. You stepped outside your home and as you made your way down the gravel drive to your new car, Ransom having finally put his foot down and purchased the Mercedes he’d been eying of for you, you glanced back up at the window of the room that was to be your baby boy’s nursery and pulled out your phone.

“Hey Daddy, it’s me. I was wondering if you would do me a favour…”

***** Ransom would never have thought in a million years that he’d be doing this. Putting together a crib for his unborn son in the nursery that the pair of you had almost completed. Kids had most certainly not been on the agenda. Mind you, neither had marriage. But Y/N…well, she’d not only done the unthinkable and tamed him away from his play-boy days, she’d completely and utterly hooked him. And he wasn’t ever going to let her3 get away. So he’d bought a ring, they’d bought a house together…and then one drunken night and forgotten pill later wham, he’d knocked her up.