#i trust no one in this damn novel
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Finished Reckoning of Roku. Not a lot of good to say about it, even ignoring the Kyoshi factors.
Anyway lots of thoughts. Need to organize. And I'm about to be completely and totally normal about Kyoshi. *eye twitch of a totally sane person*
Did you know she was mentioned about 34 times in the novel? :'D
#i trust no one in this damn novel#except roku and sozin#i trust sozin to be the worst person ever#i trust roku to be the dumbest twink ever#silly talks#malaya gets to be trusted bc she did nothing wrong ever#roku salt#everyone else gets the squint from me >_>#(except you Ta Min <3 you can lie all you want just run far away from Roku baby girl you deserve so much better TT0TT Fr LOVE YOURSELF!)#but fr I'm torn between “is this intentional?/is this intentionally misleading/setting something up?” vs#vs “oh its wishy washy bc the book is just THAT ASS!”#this is like my 4th draft of me writing 'i finished the roku novel'#i get less pissy each time i write a post jkfldsajfdlk#(i am actually underexaggerating it's more than 4 times I just lost count kfjsalkdjf)#'silly just say understate not underexaggerate' *bugs bunny face meme* no~#longest 11ish hours of my life thank god it's fucking over
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not to jerk myself off on y'all's dash lol but i so wish i could post the outline to the story i'm working on. i genuinely think i have something really good on my hands if i can just see it through to the end and polish it up enough. it's scary and fragile yet so enticing
#she bork#like i think it's good. like could be really really good as in publishable. but ofc i would think that lol so i'm not really sure. my#friends said it's good and like i do trust them bc they're intelligent and have been good beta readers for me my whole life but at the same#time what if they don't want to hurt my feelings bc they know i'm really excited about this. idk i also sent the outline to one of my#friends who is a writer and who ik for a fact will not mince words and will LOOK for inconsistencies; not in a mean way but he has a very#keen eye and ear for when something isn't right and he'll tell you when something jumps out at him. so i'm just waiting on his feedback to#tell me if my outline's worth a damn or not lol#novel 2024
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arggggggh so the writing sample i want to use for my grad school apps is a portion of one of my novels in progress except that it's a portion that's still VERY rough and part of a novel that's still being drafted and i've been having SO MUCH trouble writing this stupid thing. and i'm like. okay maybe i SHOULD just do short story excerpts like i have some fairly polished short stories that will probably be stronger works. but genuinely i'm a novelist at heart and i don't plan to write short stories, i plan to write. this novel. in grad school lol like this is what i want to write as a project there. but i'm worried i won't have enough time to refine the sample and i really don't want to submit something half-done arggggggh
#grad app woes#yes i KNOW it was insane of me to go 'well i'll just write this before i submit it easy peasy' lol#but tbh i didnt expect this project to be giving me so much trouble. i have a partial draft of it from a couple of years ago#and it's been marinating in me for a long time#so i didnt figure it'd be EASY per se but literally it's been like pulling teeth to write the damn thing#to the point where i really am like. okay maybe it would be better just to do my short fiction instead#except then i have to shift a decent chunk of my sop... but i think that's doable???#and i was actually considering doing short stories for one school bc i want to submit my weird robot story to one#but idkkkk i don't know if either of these stories can constitute as my strongest work#and im so worried about making the wrong sample choice lol. no confidence.#i think what i might want to try doing is like. finishing the portion i'd submit of the novel#and then just like. asking other opinions tbh. i dont KNOW whats stronger i need a second opinion#but i have zero idea who to ask lol. like that's a lot of pages to read and it'd need to be someone whose writing sense i trust#yikes!!!!!!!!!!!!!#liveblogging life#im sorry im so insane about this at all hours but this application cycle is consuming my brain
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Zutara, romance novels, and the female gaze
Okay so I’ve been thinking about the female gaze a LOT so I checked out a subreddit about romance novels, despite never having read one. I came across this meme (which was initially a Tumblr post and then got posted to Instagram and then to Reddit and I’m now bringing back to Tumblr — Internet telephone, pls never change):
And…what is The Southern Raiders, if not a platonic grovel? Katara’s pain is central to the episode. It’s central to Zuko. Zuko asks Katara what he can do to make up for his betrayal; she demands the impossible. He reads between the lines, cockblocks her brother to get the necessary information, and then waits outside her door overnight (which he also did for Iroh, the one person we know for sure he loves). He basically makes himself a receptacle for her rage, and he holds space for her by coming with her on her revenge quest and carrying their bags and not saying a damn thing about what she should and should not do beyond like…asking her to rest. And obviously the grovel works! She forgives him and then they’re thick as thieves, bantering and fighting and saving each other’s lives, etc.
On a different note, I’ve been told that enemies to lovers is one of the biggest tropes in romance novels, similar to YA lit and fanfic. Here’s something else I found in the romance novel discourse:
And…yeah. In TSR, Katara really does show Zuko her worst self, because she doesn’t feel the need to perform for him. She doesn’t feel the need to perform moral perfection OR cold blooded vengeance. She bloodbends in front of him and he just goes with it. She doesn’t kill Yon Rha and he just goes with it. He doesn’t treat her any differently afterwards. Maybe they talk about it off screen, but I kind of like the idea that they don’t, because Katara doesn’t need to explain anything. And it’s so interesting, because some people in the ATLA fandom have a totally different read on TSR. They think Zuko was encouraging Katara to get revenge (by what, keeping his mouth shut?), and that Aang is the one who acts as her moral compass. I believe that either Bryan or Mike said in the DVD commentary that Aang is the angel on her shoulder the entire time. And this interpretation does make sense if you see it from the male gaze, where Katara as an object of affection is acting in an angry, irrational, threatening way. But if you see it from the female gaze, you recognize that actually it’s probably the most emotionally taxing experience Katara has to go through, and she doesn’t owe it to be nice or perfect to anybody. Katara’s formative trauma literally comes to a head, and she has to make a decision — no, a discovery — about who she is in relation to the tragedy that defines her life and even her identity (as a waterbender, as a parentified child who becomes the mom friend, as a genocide victim), and she’s accompanied by someone who trusts her judgement and validates her feelings.
I’m not saying TSR is explicitly romantically coded, but when it conforms so well to romance novel tropes…is it any wonder that so many people thought “yes this is her man?” And then he takes lightning in the heart for her and reaches for her when he’s literally dying, I will never be normal about that either
#Zutara#Katara#Zuko#the southern raiders#Pro zutara#anti Bryke#I guess#I swear I’m not a Bryke anti but I feel like they just don’t get#The female gaze#and the fact that Zutara is so female gaze is kind of an accident and I find that fascinating#atla fandom critical#The southern raiders turned me into a Zutara shipper#one ep away from the finale#Zutara meta#My meta
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Obsessed with the fact that Shen Yuan only transmigrates when all the Peaklords have settled into their positions for a few years because the idea of Shang Qinghua being stuck watching Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge arguing for nth time about some budget detail that is DEFINITELY getting overblown now and just being stuck thinking
"Damn this would've been such a good enemies to lovers plot line... Imagine how much I could've made off of them..." and regretting not monetising their rivalry more before he killed off Liu Qingge ( "Oh and the angst Shen Qingqiu would've faced after his secret lover died and everyone blamed him for it! Fans would've been begging for more extras!" 🐹💔)
Like all the peaklords are desperately trying to mediate and fix the situation and Shang Qinghua is just imagining his one hundredth Fix-It Fic/AU where Shen Jiu is the King's trusted scholar and Liu Qingge is the King's personal bodyguard
Everyone thinks when a single tear falls from Shang Qinghua's eyes its because during Liu Qingge and Shen Jiu's fight they destroyed both his newly drafted budget (for the fifth time that month) and the fact they also destroyed the table (for the third time that week and the week just started)
Reality is Shang Qinghua is crying because he thought of an angsty death scene for the two Romeo and Juliet style because both their families couldn't accept them being together
Years of this pass and at some point he even picks up writing again (specifically about characters clearly based on Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge) and he gets really popular, popular enough his novels start to flood all of Cang Qiong and even Liu Mingyan takes some inspiration from them
Everyone knows damn well that the characters are clearly meant to be Peaklord Shen and Peaklord Liu, but no one tells because they all are legitimately waiting for the next volume of "Battle-to-your-poisonous-heart-and-peaches"
Does everyone know it's Shang Qinghua... Noooo.. Would anyone admit if they did know.... No.
Then all the sudden on day Shen Qingqiu suddenly looked in the dictionary and discovered what the word 'nice' is and now he doesn't abuse his students 🐹🤯
He even let himself get poisoned and potentially ruined his cultivation for life for Luo Binghe of all people!? Um excuse Airplane Logic, but the MC is supposed to only get all the good stuff AFTER he falls into the abyss!
And what's this about Liu Qingge helping to 'clear' his meridians so he has to personally visit Qing Jing peak every week?? Def something is off, an author knows fishy when he sees it
For how many years Shang Qinghua is stuck watching these two do their whole "You're my precious Shidi" and "I'll always be here for you" act and he's just stuck eating dogfood wondering when exactly is the marriage extra coming in and why the System won't tell me why Shen Qingqiu is acting all happy go lucky now
Shang Qinghua notices Shen Qingqiu talking to Yue Qingyuan more, he notices Qing Jing disciples running straight to Shen Qingqiu with joy and excitement rather than the reserved fear they had before, he notices how Shen Qingqiu only glares at him twice every meeting than before!
Maybe this isn't his version of PIDW, maybe it's a fan made version where Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu fall in love and with the power of love and friendship Shen Qingqiu learns to be kind and to care and isn't going to cause Luo Binghe to go down his dark path and maybe they can all have a happyily ever after—
*Endless Abyss Arc*
"Oh fuck–"
[Before Endless Abyss Arc]
*Shang Qinghua watching from a distance as Luo Binghe is practically clinging to Shen Qingqiu's side. Shen Qingqiu pats Luo Binghe's head and Luo Binghe does THAT smile he only does for his wives*
"Well this is an interesting fanfic..."
[After Airplane Reveal]
"Wait... So you're actually a transmigrater as well, Cucumber-Bro?"
"Yeah, and?"
"..."
"Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Do you hate, or have you at least at some point hated, Liu Qingge?"
"I– No–Wait what???"
"Let me reword it. Have you ever considered murdering him at one point?"
"WHYAREYOUASKINGMETHESEQUESTIONS!? YOUKNOWWHATHAPPENEDTOSHENJIU! IMNOTRISKINGHISFATE!"
"... So I'll take that as a no."
"OBVIOUSLY!?"
"So it's just a normal Friends to lovers 😮💨 No flavour 🙄"
Shang Qinghua was then brutally attacked.
[During the Five Years SY was dead]
*Shang Qinghua watching Liu Qingge go every single day to fight Luo Binghe for Shen Qingqiu's body*
"Oh my Airplane.... It's not a enemies-to-lovers... It's not Teacher X Disciple... It's a bloody love triangle with both! Oh how much money this plot would've made me 💔 I would've been able to pay for four months worth of rent and groceries!"
Random Disciple visiting An Ding: "Um.... Is Shang-Shibo okay? He fell on the ground?"
An Ding Disciple: "Leave him. He does that sometimes. Now about your budget request..."
*Shang Qinghua screaming in the background*
Random Disciple: "..."
An Ding Disciple: "..."
Random Disciple: "Should we check on–"
An Ding Disciple, now dragging other disciple away: "Let's settle this at your peak."
Years later when Bingqiu have already had their wedding and everyone has become somewhat tolerant of their relationship, Shang Qinghua just sighs loudly and Shen Yuan asks him what's up. Shang Qinghua looks him in the eyes and just shakes his head.
"My ship...💔"
"..."
"OW– Why did you have go hit me on the head!?"
"Because I don't want to know what's going on in there and I need to make sure what's in there stays in there."
#svsss#shang qinghua#shen jiu#liu qingge#shen yuan#liujiu#liushen#broke shang qinghua days 💔#imagine what was going through Shang Qinghua's mind when he started seeing his scum villain being nice to everyone#“You're not allowed to do that! That's against Protocol!”#Shang qinghua really thought they were in a enemies-to-lovers hurt/comfort fix it fic#Turns out he's stuck in Luo Binghe's self insert fanfic 💔#Yue Qingyuan: “Shang-Shidi we have to prepare a budget for Qingqiu-Shidi's wedding”#Shang Qinghua: “Oh? Really! Oh wow I thought Liu Qingge was never going to get his act together—”#Yue Qingyuan: “Oh no it's for Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe.”#Shang Qinghua: “...” *Incoherent screaming*#“MY ENEMIES TO LOVERS ARC 💔!”#ooc I know but canon is a recommendation we ignore#I based this mostly off me writing some scenes for ocs and realising I liked a ship other than my 'canon' one more#shen qingqiu#bingqiu
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Tim with hannaki disease
spending his childhood choking on flowers
Barely able to breathe rejection after rejection
Jason is attacking him at the tower and he can’t stop coughing out flowers
when dick gives Damian Robin, Tim leaves the cave spitting out petals
imagine if he died of suffocation during the Bruce quest
Fuck. I love hanahaki disease.
Tw: death, blood, asphyxiation, fictional disease, dead body description, gore
For those of y'all unaware, it's a completely fictional disease where having unrequited love results in the person growing flowers in their chest. It's usually romantic, but I prefer the platonic versons (especially child-parent angst, holy fuck).
I've seen two types of hanahaki:
The love is actually unrequited
The person only perceives the love as being unrequited
Either way, the progression is as follows:
Person coughs up one petal
They start coughing up more and usually blood
They cough up an entire blossom
They die trying to cough up the entire flower (blossom and stem)
There are four outcomes to hanahaki disease, depending on what rules you are working with:
Love becomes requited
Person dies
They have a surgery to remove their ability to have feelings
They lose (voluntarily or not) their memories about their unrequited love
Some people play with flower meanings of the petals being coughed up. I fucking love those versions so much.
Let's get into the AU! The timeline is mine to fuck around with, so excuse any non-canon progressions.
~~~~
Tim has chronic hanahaki disease from his parents. They visit often enough to quell the worst symptoms and mitigate the damage, but they don't stick around enough (or show enough constant attention) for the petals to go away.
Janet once asked Tim if he'd like to get the surgery. Tim said no. Janet respected that choice and never asked again even though Tim was like nine at the time. It also becomes a fear of his. He wakes up in cold sweat at the phantom idea of just not being able to love anyone. It terrifies him, even if the feeling of asphyxiation is the only other option.
When Janet dies and Tim becomes Robin, he does his best to hide his condition from Bruce. It worsens, from the way Tim adores and loves the Bats, but Tim manages.
It's a rough few years, but slowly, the ice begins to melt. The Waynes show Tim more and more affection. YJ also shower him in so much care to the point that Tim has days of uninterrupted breathing.
It's a novel but welcome feeling.
Jack waking up from the coma complicates shit. His condition worsens again, but it's manageable.
Until Tim's sixteenth birthday.
The teen will never admit, but that test nearly fucking killed him. Bruce never finds out how close he was to killing his Robin, but Tim knows. He'll never forget how thorns scraped along his throat at the idea that he can't trust anyone. He'll never rid himself of the intimate knowledge of how blossoms taste in his mouth and the sickly sweet smell of blood mixed with flower petals.
Tim has to quit Robin, for his safety, health, and as a "fuck you" to Bruce, but realizes he can't keep in contact with Dick, Alfred, or Barbara without it. He can't contact his team.
He has to go back, so he does.
Tim's not sure if it's better or worse that Bruce didn't know about the hanahaki. If the man did, would he still have done the test? Due to him never showing remorse or guilt for his actions, the teen doesn't know.
The question pesters him even when his dad finds out about Robin.
It plagues him through Steph becoming Robin and dying.
It festers into his bones when, while wearing those same damn colors, he hears his father die.
That is one or many reasons "Uncle Eddie" was created.
Tim can't quite trust Bruce, but he finds himself still loving the father-like figure in his life. He finds himself forgiving him. He leans into the hair ruffles, shoulder pats, and gruff words of affection. He lets himself be loved.
Then, an undead asshole in a gleaming red bucket comes to kick Tim's ass. The teen can't help but laugh at the way his life bounces between breathing and dying at the drop of a hat.
He's just barely able to hide the flowers from both Red Hood and the Titans.
A little assassin appears, and each attack brings a petal.
Each new death hampers Tim's ability to breathe. Tim tries, but it's so fucking hard. How is he supposed to live without them?
With the ticklish scrape of petals, Tim doesn't think he's supposed to.
Bruce isn't dead. Tim knows, with every fiber of his being, that Bruce can't be dead. Tim won't survive if he is.
Even if Tim loses everything, even if these damn fucking flowers consume him, at least his death will have a purpose.
That's what he tells himself as he lies in a pool of blood beneath the stars. The sand at his back is soft in comparison to the stem piercing his throat and tongue. The sound of his choking is joined by the bubbling wheezing of Pru.
Ra's peers down at the body already set with rigor mortis. Tim's jaw is pried apart by a bouquet of yellow carnations dripping in blood.
The demon head hums at the sight, a dangerous gleam to his eyes. With the flick of a hand, two assassins grab the young detective's corpse. The other three bodies are taken as well.
Tim's eyes fling open as the teen gasps for air.
It's wrong. It's wrong. It's all wrong. He's empty.
He's surrounded in green.
Oh fuck.
For awhile, Tim just soaks in the soft expansion of his lungs. He marvels at their capability.
He can't remember a time when he's been able to breathe so easily. It's enchanting and allots the teen a giddy sort of relief.
Through the destruction of both the Spiders and the LoA, he finds himself taking small moments to just breathe. It's a simple joy he can't help but partake in.
Tim logically knows there's a price. His breaths cost him, though he doesn't know their price. He should be dead and buried within the flowers.
He is neither.
He is alive. He is free (from the petals. It takes him a little bit to become free of Ra's).
Tim brushes aside these valid and alarming concerns to focus on his goals: escape, take down Ra's, and derail whatever retaliation occurs.
So that's what Tim does. He ignores the insistent sense of wrongness and focuses on the task at hand. He coordinates his friends and family. He faces down Ra's. He gets kicked out of a window.
With a grim smile, his body goes lax and his eyes flutter shut
He's done.
When Tim springs up from unconsciousness, Steph's voice reassures him he's safe. She tells him he's in the batcave.
The tension to bleeds from his body as Damian mutters a demand. Tim's eyes dart from Robin to Batgirl to Batman (Dick) to Alfred.
That sinking feeling of wrongness returns.
Dick's eyes are trained on the teen as he asks Tim, "How did you know I'll be there to save you?"
It's obvious the man is worried. It's obvious he's so fucking glad he caught his younger brother.
The lie falls from Tim's lips as smooth as any truth, "You're my brother, Dick. You'll always be there for me."
Dick's face brightens with fond relief.
Tim watches. He observes the reactions of his older brother. He catalogs the effect of his words on the man he's admired and loved for thirteen years.
He notes all of this.
And he feels nothing.
#tim drake#thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au#I'm not editing this so have fun ~#also yellow carnations represent: disdain & disappointment & rejection#i know there are a ton of plot holes just ignore them
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You know... I often think about the fact that out of all events in TCF? Rescuing Raon was the most important.
It wasn't just because Cale got himself a "Draco Ex Machina" at his side that could use OP magic at his convenience. He could have used tools or Rosalyn's magic instead, at the beginning at least. We saw how he planned ahead and used an enchanted tool to make Taylor and Cage invisible to sneak them into the capital.
It wasn't just because through Raon, Cale was able to make connection with Eruhaben and later Sheritt and many other Dragons. They were important for their victory, but Cale could have gotten in contact with them through other ways – Pendrick, for example.
It wasn't just because Raon could detect things like dead mana or magical traps and disguises – even if Rosalyn wouldn't be able to, Cale would have probably figured out Alberu's connection to Dark Elves sooner or later. He already had suspicions about "a secret to his birth" before Raon mentioned the dyed hair.
Yes, those thing mattered, don't get me wrong. But, out of all the changes Cale made after his transmigration – saving Raon was the event that truly changed the whole game... not for the world, but for Cale himself.
Raon was, in many instances, the pushing force behind Cale's motivation to participate in various events. Slacker life? Cale's wishful thinking. But the motivation to actively get people involved – like Mary, for example. Raon was the one who cheered Cale on, kept him company through everything, especially the tough times. Raon was the one who, along with On and Hong, melted Cale's heart the fastest, getting this stubborn, traumatized man to admit they were "family". It's not that he wouldn't be a good man doing good things without Raon; but without Raon he would be in a lot more denial (even more than he already is!!) about why he is doing such things.
Raon represents everything Cale loves about his new life. The joy, the hope for the future, the curiosity and enthusiasm. Yes Cale often acts tired of (or freaks out over) Raon's antics or pretends to ignore him. But in the end... he never actually does. Cale never stops paying attention to him or tells him to go away.
Raon was the one who truly "got under his skin", so to speak. Cale wholeheartedly trusts and respects Raon. Of course, Raon is still a child under his protection... The reason why Cale always insisted on him staying hidden, throughout most of their adventures. I remember the moment Cale got the Dragon Blood Drinking Crown, and his first reaction was "let's throw this away/destroy it". The utter repulsion towards anything that could be a danger to Raon, despite how potentially useful such an artifact could be, logic be damned. Or that moment when they met the White Star for the first time, the villain telling Cale how he would kill the child and feed his heart to him – how Cale outwardly showed terror for the first time in the whole novel, instantly hugging Raon close to him and activating the shield to its fullest.
That's what really gets to me, you know? Raon's protectiveness for Cale is so obvious, but Cale is just as protective of him in return. I truly believe that while all relationships that Cale had shaped him as a person (just like the God of Death stated in his letter to him), the relationship between Cale and Raon is one that shaped them both in equal measure on both sides.
This relationship between them feels like fate, and that's no accident.
Changing Raon's fate was fundamental for saving the world, yes. But it equally important for Cale's own growth. An event which happened right at the beginning on the story, shaped the course of the entire future.
#tcf#trash of the count's family#lcf#lout of count's family#tcf meta#analysis#tcf analysis#cale henituse#cale#tcf cale#raon#raon miru#raon mir
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so, I could request jamil, leona, vil, rook, azul, jade, rollo, malleus and lillia with a heroic fantasy lover reader (well, not so much fantasy, since it's basically a fantasy world. i mean, jaskaja, malleus is a freaking fairy prince). a reader who wakes up reading, watching series or movies in the genre, who makes his own maps of his worlds in the back of his notebooks in class, who in potions class takes notes for his own inventions, who starts inventing recipes in the kitchen and when he's supposed to be studying he's actually writing his fantasy stories or novels, maybe he's not even yuu, he's from another dimension! just another x student who is a bookworm. but that his sleep schedule starts to be affected by these habits when midterms come and at the same time he wins a major writing contest, and that between the hobby and the studies he sleeps, eats and rests less.
thanks and good day 💗💗!
of course! this is actually quite cute
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fantasy writer reader
type of post: headcanons characters: leona, azul, jade, jamil, rook, vil, lilia, malleus, rollo additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
well, well, well
for all his teasing, and there has been a lot, Leona actually starts to like you
damn it...
you were just another wide-eyed, naive herbivore to him
and a little bookworm, too
and now...
strangely, he finds himself missing you
thinking about the stories you'd told him...
...even wanting you to ask him about his magic
which he did find annoying, but now, it's kind of endearing...
you do strange things to this man
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul will admit that he was... a little wrong about you
after all, when you first met, he took you as a rather naive person
so... curious
asking him about magic, the sea, potions and spells and...
well, he read that as innocence
for weeks, he answered all your questions, even showed you a few simple spells, all free of charge
...hoping that you'd come to trust him
then, you vanish
he later reads a fantasy story published in the school newspaper
...about him
you were just using him for fantasy character inspiration all along!?
...
...actually... that's quite flattering
he'll let you get away with this one
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Jade is drawn to you
and by that, I mean he finds you before you find him
so curious...
he can tell you've adapted to life at Night Raven College much quicker than most would
quicker than he did, even
and he's actually from Twisted Wonderland
magic doesn't surprise you, nor does the politics or history of this world...
how... interesting
he'll follow you around, asking question, reading your stories, never too far away from you
he's never met anyone so strange, really
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Jamil can't imagine being from a world without magic
...and, apparently, neither can you
disregarding your... ahem... heroic interests, you fit right in at NRC
seriously, a few months here and you're already ahead of Kalim
...he could learn a thing or two from you...
it starts making sense when you tell Jamil that books from your world are full of magic
where you lack experience, you make up for in knowledge
he... respects that, actually
you're more well-read than most of his peers!
now, if only he could do something about that terrible sleep schedule of yours...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Rook thinks you have such a beautiful eye for detail
and a creative soul
of course, he knows a writer when he sees one
and you catch his eye right away
he just can't help it! such imagination, such talent... you inspire him just by being!
...okay, maybe he's a little overexcited
being a poet himself, it's not often he meets someone who understands the beauty of life like a fellow writer
he will eagerly read everything you give him
every story you write, every map you draw, even your own notes and potion recipes
...and he'll give you detailed praises on each one
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil is already used to writer shenanigans
...too used to them, maybe
the last thing he wants is another Rook waxing poetically about a bug you saw on the north stairwell
at least you seem quiet
what really captivates him, though, is your interest in potionology
you're already at such an advanced level that you're making your own recipes
even if it's just for your stories, that takes some skill
you'll have to forgive him for fussing over your health and wellbeing
he can sense your potential
goodness, at this rate, you could replace him as housewarden by the end of the year
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
there's nothing Lilia likes more than a good story
after all, he's got lots of his own
so, to him, writers are the greatest thing since... whatever the hell he eats
and he can be a little... pushy
leering over your shoulder, pestering you to show him what you're working on...
he can't help it!
he's just so curious!
the one thing he's good for, though, is details
you ask him if this language, or outfit, or invention, is appropriate for the time period, and he'll be able to answer
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Malleus is always flattered by your curiosity
one might think that a human from a magicless world would be frightened by his appearance and his title
but you...
you're just curious
he likes answering your questions
you seem so interested in magic, he can't help but show off a little
he's already promised to show you around Briar Valley
and, of course, he loves hearing your stories
the ones you write, the ones you remember from home...
you're just a fascinating little human
and he always feels special when he's the first to read something you've written
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
now...
Rollo doesn't quite understand you
no, actually-
he's jealous
not that he'd ever admit it...
but the thought of a world that is so devoid of magic that its people make fantasy of it is so very enticing...
...he's willing to excuse your childish interest
and indulge you in your maps and your potions and your stories
you don't know any better
but to him, your world is the fantastical one, not his
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#queued#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jade leech x reader#jamil viper x reader#rook hunt x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#malleus draconia x reader#rollo flamme x reader
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And For My Next Trick...
Summary: Reader is invited to a Halloween party where she doesn't know anyone. Everyone seems absolutely insistent she has to meet a mystery man who'd love her costume ALTERNATIVELY: Reader and Spencer unknowingly match costumes at a Halloween party.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: Reader POV, light mentions of drinking, oral sex (f recieveing), handcuffs during sex, one shitty “now you see me” magic sex reference (sorry), heavy making out, unprotected sex
Word Count: 4.3k
Why did I agree to this? Who goes to their friend’s company-mandated Halloween party? Who goes to their friend’s company-mandated Halloween party when they work for the damn FBI?
The answer was of course, summed up with a simple “Penelope Garcia”, a force of nature when it came to swaying people into novel life experiences, as she’d done with me in this moment.
When I offhandedly recalled that I hadn’t been to a Halloween party since college, Penelope grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me a little, eyes wide like saucers, like she couldn’t believe what I’d said.
“What?! What have you done since then to celebrate, then?” She asks, watching me intently.
“Nothing.” I respond, plainly, watching as her face morphed into one of further disbelief than before.
“What can I say?” I say, giving a laugh at her over-exaggerated antics at my admission, shrugging in the face of it. “I just don’t vibe with it.”
“What’s there not to ‘vibe’ with?!” She says, still holding onto my shoulders, absolutely unable to accept that I may have grown out of Halloween as the appeal of the holiday slowly dwindled with age.
“Everything.” I respond, still laughing. “I don’t like over-drinking, I don’t like sexy costumes, I don’t like being scared. Halloween’s less fun when you’re older.” I listed and reasoned off the top of my head, as Penelope stood there shaking her head, not accepting my answers in the slightest.
“Absolutely not. I refuse to let the spirit of Halloween die inside of you so young.” She responds, incredibly serious and unmoving. “You can have fun without all that! Come on! I can prove it to you.” She adds, definitively.
I raise an eyebrow, watching her with an amused expression. “Can you now? And how’s that?”
“Spend Halloween with me!” She retorts, instantly. She smiles big, her eyes crinkling in the corners as she grew more and more excited at the idea.
“Aren’t you spending Halloween with your work friends?” I ask, knitting my brows. “Your FBI work friends?” I say, in that tone, letting her know that there was definitely a part of me opposed to spending any day of mine with people I didn’t know whatsoever.
“Oh come on! Don’t give me that!” Penelope says, nearly pouting in front of me. “It’ll be fun! They’re my friends and they’re sweet and I think they’d love to meet you! You’ll have fun. Trust me.” She says, looking deep into my eyes as she willed me silently to say ‘yes’ with her expression alone. I stayed silent for a moment, thinking it over before she breaks my thoughts with a, “Please?” and in a quick moment, she’s overcome all my defenses and I nod, weak to her pleas.
“Okay! Okay! Fine!” I say, smiling a bit. “I’ll go. But I swear, if all I get out of the night is shit-faced drunk with a hangover the next morning, I’m never trusting you with my plans ever again.” I warn, raising an eyebrow and she just shakes it off, smiling wide.
“Deal. You’ll have fun, I promise.” She reiterates, and I nod, not realizing what I’d gotten myself into at that point.
So that night, when Penelope pulled up in front of a bar after picking me up from my apartment, I gave her a quizzical look, tilting my head in confusion.
“I thought this was a work party. You guys have work parties at bars?” I ask, knitting my brows.
Penelope giggled as she put the car in park, shaking her head. “Oh, my dear. You have no idea.” I stare at her, patiently waiting for her to elaborate, and she does, continuing in her excited fashion without requiring any prompting from my end. “We rarely have time for any ‘parties’ of the sort, given the whole insane schedule thing, so when we get a chance to host a shindig like this, we go all out.” She says, grinning wildly. “Especially when it's Halloween.”
I got out of the car, trying to discern what she meant, but gave up, deciding to just nod and go along with it, knowing more questions would just confuse the hell out of me anyway.
“Did I mention I absolutely love your costume?” Penelope compliments, I smile, waving her off.
“I literally dug it up from my senior year of college. I’m just glad it fits.”
The number I was wearing, in question, was a sparkly red leotard, with black stockings. A bit of height was added to my figure through the kitten heels on my feet, and adorning my neck was a traditional bowtie, alongside a little top hat with red detailing around the head. On my waist hung a stuffed bunny, adding a bit more intention to the outfit.
A magician’s assistant, in all its glory. It was a bit showy, but I figured most people would dress up regardless, and I wasn’t about to pay money for another costume for a holiday I rarely paid any mind to in the first place.
“Whatever it is, it’s working for you.” Penelope says with a wink, leading me into the bar.
The bar felt absolutely alive, buzzing with energy as multiple people walked around in costume, fog machines set up on multiple fronts to add a bit of a ghastly ambience to the scene, Halloween music playing in the background as people chatted each other up. The lights were dimmed, and I followed Penelope deeper into the party.
She turned around, handing me a cup with an unidentified liquid, and urged me to drink with her.
“It’s just punch! I swear!” She says to me, over the music, and I down the beverage quickly, glad she was obeying my request of not leaving the party absolutely wasted. It left the distinct flavor of artificially flavored cherry in my mouth, and I looked at her, wondering where she’d take us next, but before I could say anything, a blonde woman dressed as a black cat approached the two of us and Penelope immediately wrapped her arms around her, smiling.
“(Y/N)!” Penelope says, “This is JJ, JJ, my plus-one for the night, (Y/N)!” She exclaims, excited to introduce the two of us.
I shake JJ’s hand, smiling. “It’s nice to meet you- I love your costume, black cats are my favorite.” I say, and she grins gratefully.
“Last minute costume. Can you tell?” JJ responds, and I shake my head. “Absolutely not.” I respond warmly, already feeling a sense of kinship with the woman, her smile and lighthearted nature easing me into the interaction.
“Your costume.. magician?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she gives me a look-over.
“Magician’s assistant, actually, but yes.” I say, laughing a bit. “I suppose in a certain light I may just look like a sexy magician, in hindsight.” JJ laughs at the joke, making me laugh a bit more as well.
“God, people here are going to think you and Spencer came here together.” JJ says, smirking, pouring herself a glass of punch.
“Spencer?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“I won’t spoil his costume, but trust me. You have to find him at some point in the night. He’d love your costume.” She says the words with a playful lilt, my curiosity piquing at the idea of this mystery man who’d apparently be enamored by my choice of clothing tonight specifically.
“I have to find my husband.” She quickly adds, “But it was nice meeting you! Have fun!” She says, sauntering away, and leaving me and Penelope alone.
“Okay- so I was thinking we could look at the games they have here and then-” Penelope says, but I stop her.
“Who’s Spencer?” I ask, my interest in the subject not being fully satiated here.
“I work with him!” Penelope responds, and I laugh at her uncharacteristic briefness.
“Penelope, you work with everyone here.” I say, and she laughs.
“Okay, okay, but- seriously! I don’t want to spoil the surprise. It’ll be much better if the two of you run into each other.” She says, and my fascination only increases. “So.” She says, trying to segue into another topic, but I shake my head.
“Pen- if it’s alright with you, I’m gonna try and explore on my own, yeah?” I say, trying to seem as polite about it as possible, but she understood immediately.
“Don’t worry. I understand completely.” She says, with a wink. “You’ll know him when you see him.” She says, before walking away, and I was left alone, beginning to traverse through the party.
I met a number of characters that night, engaging in pleasant conversation and accepting some alcohol in small quantities, keeping myself in the right headspace so that I could continue my search for the man that’d been brought up to me before. When I’d bring his name up in conversation, as to get a hint to where the man would be, I’d always get the same reaction. A flash of recognition, and a smile. A “Do you two know each other?” and when I’d shake my head, they’d follow it with a, “He’d love your costume.”
For God’s sake! I knew he’d love my costume! Every living soul at this party had told me so! I’d love to just see the guy at this point!
I was just about to give up my search for the man, when I finally spotted a small crowd in the corner of the party that was a bit quieter than normal. I made my way into the group of people, coming to the front to be met with the sight of a man in a costume.
A magician’s costume.
“For my next trick, I’ll need a volunteer.” He says, looking around the crowd, and the moment his eyes land on me, I raise my hand above my head, and he nods, gesturing me over.
He speaks quietly, grinning a bit at me. It’s boyish and sweet as he looks me up and down, raising an eyebrow. “Magician’s assistant?” He asks, with a little bit of laughter in his voice, and I nod, and he responds by nodding back. “I love it.”
“I know.” I say, laughing. He looks a bit confused, until I say, “Trust me. Practically everyone at this party has been telling me to find you-"
I suddenly realize there's a good chance this may not even be the aforementioned 'Spencer'. "Oh, God, I hope you are him, otherwise this’ll be really awkward.” I say quickly, realizing I hadn’t even described my plight in the first place to the stranger in front of me, before he quickly alleviated my nerves.
“Spencer Reid.” He says, grinning.
“Thank god. You are the right person.” I say, with relief. “(Y/N).”
“Alright, (Y/N).” He says, smirking. “Ready to help me with this trick?” He says, putting on a bit of a performance for the people gathered around us, and I nodded.
“Pick a card, any card.” He says, fanning a deck of cards in my direction, all face-down. “Show it to the audience, but don’t tell me the card!” He says, dramatically, turning away entirely and covering his eyes with his free hand, and I found myself giggling at the silliness of it all. I quickly picked a card from the middle of the deck, the two of hearts, ironically, and showed it to the audience, who all nodded in recognition.
“Have you picked your card?” Spencer asks me, still turned away and I reply.
“Yes, I have.”
“And have you shown the audience?” Spencer continues, in the same, climactic tone from before.
“I have.” I say, with a smile.
“Alright. Put her back into the deck, and tell me when you have.” He replies, still totally turned away, his eyes shut.
I place the card back in the deck, nestling it between the cards and he grins as he feels the disturbance to the deck. “The card is in the deck.” I confirm, and he turns back, beginning to shuffle the cards with fast, adept fingers. I watch his hands carefully, before he draws my attention back to his face by speaking to me.
“So, (Y/N), what brings you to this party in the first place? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the building.” He asks, casually, his hands still moving quickly.
“Oh- what?” I found it impossible to focus on both his hands, and the conversation, so I turned my attention towards the latter. “Penelope.” I respond, after processing the question. “She’s my friend, she told me to come. I don’t know anyone here besides her.” I add, answering his question.
“Ah.” He responds, cooly, keeping direct eye contact on me the entire time, and I was unable to tear myself away from his gaze. “Do you make it a habit to come to parties where everyone’s a stranger to you?”
I laugh a bit. “Absolutely not. I mean, everyone’s been nice so far, I’d say, so it’s not half-bad.” I continue, relaxing into the banter with him. His aura was magnetizing. Maybe it was the magician persona he was putting on, maybe it was the fact that he was dead handsome, but I found him increasingly attractive with every passing second.
He grinned, and I noticed that as our conversation dwindled, his hands began to slow. “Alright. Now, if my magician senses prove me right, is..” He takes a long second, making a show out of pulling a card out of the deck, “this your card!” He finishes, showing a.. six of spades.
I laugh a bit nervously, “Uh, no?” I felt a blush rising to my face as he seemed to grumble, looking more thoroughly through the deck.
“This?” He asks, holding up a three of diamonds.
“Nope.”
He holds up a queen. “This one?”
“Still no.”
“God, I swear..” He finally shows me the entire deck, watching me intently. “Do you see your card anywhere here?” He asks.
I scan the deck, expecting to see the two of hearts but didn’t, and I furrowed my brows.
“Is it not there?” Spencer asks, a specific lilt in his voice, as he grins playfully at me, and I look at him, still confused.
“No, but I swear- I did put it back.” I say, looking through the cards in front of me one last time.
“That’s strange.” Spencer responds, beginning to think. “Do you mind if I just..” He suddenly took a step closer, invading my personal space in such a swift manner, I barely had time to process what was going on.
I could feel his breath hitting me from above, as I turned my gaze up at the man in front of me. I could see him clearer, this way. The way his brown eyes watched me as well, the pink of his lips, the way his soft hair fell across his forehead. He reached forward, causing my breath to hitch before he slowly found my hat, lifting it from my head.
“(Y/N), do you mind checking your hat for a moment?” He says, giving me the article of clothing.
“Oh, I-” I stutter a bit, before taking the hat from his hands slowly and looking inside, seeing-
No fucking way.
I pulled out the two of hearts, which had somehow found its way into my hat.
“How- You-” I say, before he stops me.
“Show the card to the audience.” He says, grinning, and I do.
“That’s your card, isn’t it?” He muses, and I nod, absolutely dumbstruck.
He gives a little smirk. “Take a bow. For being such a good assistant, you know.” He says, and I bow my head a little, still trying to wrap my head around how he managed to do the trick in the first place.
The little group around us gave small claps and dispersed once the trick was over, leaving me and Spencer alone.
“So..” I start, but he laughs and interrupts.
“Before you ask me, no. I will not tell you how I did that.” He says, almost reading my mind.
“Come on!” I say, grinning. “You have to. That’s- that’s impossible.” I stammer.
“I just did it, didn’t I?” He says, with a bit of cockiness in his voice, which made him even more attractive than before.
“Okay but- No way!” I say, trying to think. “You must’ve planted it there. Or-”
“I planted the card in a hat that had been on your head the whole time?” He responds, raising an eyebrow playfully.
“But-”
“No ‘buts’.” He says, smiling. “It’s just magic. And a magician never reveals his-”
“I swear, if you finish that cliched sentence..” I warn.
He raises his hands up in surrender, that boyish grin still gracing his face. “Okay! Okay! It’s true though.” He adds, and I find myself rolling my eyes.
He notices my displeasure, and laughs a bit. “Okay, tell you what. What if I taught you how to do the trick? That way I’m technically not flat-out telling you how to do the trick.” He says, and I nod, excited.
“Wait- yeah. I would do that, in a heartbeat.” I respond, and he looks animated at the prospect.
“It’s a bit loud here.” He says, raising his voice a little over the music in the bar. “I know we just met but- uh. Would you wanna come to my apartment?” He asks, a bit hesitant. “In the name of magic.”
I watched his expression carefully, and saw the implicit desire painted in his eyes.
Wow. This costume must’ve worked a lot better than I expected.
“I wouldn’t mind that.” I respond, sweetly. “Lead the way, magic man.” I say, a bit teasingly. There was something exhilarating about knowing that there was a good possibility he wanted me, the same way I found myself wanting him.
He smiles, offering his arm to me as we walk out of the bar together. He leads me to his car, opening the door of the passenger seat to me like a true gentleman, and I smile, getting in. He starts the vehicle, beginning to drive away from the bar.
“Have you always done magic?” I ask, attempting to start a conversation with the man next to me, who was still a near stranger at this point.
He laughs a bit. “Yeah, actually. Before I ever started working for the FBI, I learned as a kid.”
“What do you like about magic?” I ask, a little lamely, still trying to continue the flow of discussion between us, making an effort to know him better.
He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the road. “Well, I don’t know. I didn’t have too many friends growing up, so when I did.. I liked to entertain them.” He lets out a dry chuckle, a bit self conscious. I listened intently, finding myself more intrigued by him as he opened himself up to me. “It sounds silly, but I’ve always just enjoyed the feeling of making someone feel.. wonder.. amazement..?” He adds, hesitantly. “It’s just nice.” He finishes.
“That was probably way too personal for a question about magic, huh?” He says, after a moment.
I shake my head. “No! No. That’s a great reason. Probably better than anything I could ever come up with for any of my own hobbies.” I say, trying to make him feel at ease, the way he had for me before.
He smiles gratefully. “Thanks.”
“So about that trick..” I start, grinning.
“I’m not telling you how I did it!” He says, laughing. “You gotta work for it.”
“Oh, come on.” I exclaim, before pausing.
“Okay, tell me this. How many ways can you do that trick? Is it only with specific cards?”
“Nope.” He responds. “I can do that trick 52 ways. It’s all in the hands” He says, a little bit of pride in his voice.
“52 ways, huh?” I say, grinning. “My god, Spencer Reid. You must be really good with your hands then.” I say, trying to flirt just a bit.
“Oh, you have no idea.” He responds, and for a second, I hear a hint of lust in his voice, and I realize I wasn't insane for thinking he wanted me back. I could feel his tone causing my cheeks to heat up, and my panties getting wetter in an instant.
“Oh?” I respond, my voice suddenly hoarse.
“Yeah.” He responds, voice a bit deeper than before.
“I’m sure you could show me once you get to your apartment.” I say boldly, testing the waters and I see him lick his lips, nodding.
“I’d like that.” He responds, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter, driving a bit faster than before.
As soon as we made it past his front door, Spencer was pushing me against the wall, planting his lips on mine in a frenzy, as my hands went to take off his coat, both of our intentions clear at this moment.
His hands trailed down to my waist, pulling me closer against him to the point where I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh. The sensation caused me to moan, and he took the opportunity to sneak his tongue into my mouth, exploring as we continued to seek pleasure from the other, not paying mind to the consequences of our spontaneity.
His hands began to move to the zipper of my leotard, slowly pulling it down as my hands went to his belt, undoing it as quickly as I could. I felt something in the pockets of his slacks, and pulled it out to reveal a pair of handcuffs.
“Not my government issued ones. They're apart of the costume gear” He says, immediately, beginning to kiss at my neck. “We could use them, if you want.” He murmurs, his hot breath right at the hollow of my collarbone.
I breathed in sharply, nodding. “Oh, god. Yes.” I could feel him pulling me by my hips, his lips never leaving the expanse of my skin as he pushed me onto his bed, caging me in between his arms as he continued with his ministrations.
I could hear the soft moans of pleasure drawing out from my lips, my eyes fluttering shut. For an instant, I couldn’t feel his presence on me, until my hands were being raised above my head, and the small “snap” of handcuffs could be heard against me. I watched him, his gaze determined and lustful, checking the handcuffs to make sure they weren’t too tight, but that I couldn’t escape.
“You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, beginning to kiss my fingertips, and making his way down my arm. He finally manages to pull off my leotard, and in a moment of what I could only describe as carnal desire, he rips open my stockings, discarding them on the floor as he made his way to the growing wet spot on my panties.
“I’ll buy you new ones.” He growls, his breath hitting my wet heat, and I moaned at the sensation alone. He slid my panties down, leaving me entirely bare while he stayed mostly clothed, only adding to the appeal of our encounter.
He settled in between my legs, and I watched him, my breath coming out in short, small gasps.
“I need to taste you.” He murmurs, and I nod.
That’s all it takes, and he’s nearly devouring at my cunt. I can feel his tongue everywhere, languidly working at my sex before circling around my clit. I throw my head back, and feel my hands itching to grab at his hair, to grind against his mouth. It’s like he could feel my desperation, smirking against me.
“Patience.” He murmurs, and I grumble a bit, but the annoyance quickly dissipates as he moves to suck around my clit, causing an entirely new slew of sensations to rack my body. I can feel myself writhing, and he hooks his hands under my thighs to keep me in place. Before I can even tell him, I’m coming against his face, my body convulsing in his touch as he continued to eat me out like he couldn’t get enough.
He only stopped when I weakly moaned his name, looking up at me through my thighs, my wetness coating his chin. “Please- I need you.” I say, trying to now fulfill the growing ache that came from being so painstakingly empty. He nodded, understanding me immediately and moving to undo the handcuffs. Immediately, my hands wrap around his neck as I feel him free his cock from the confines of his briefs, and I briefly glance down, taking note of his size, and knowing how well I’d be fucked in a few brief moments.
He guided his member to my aching cunt, and pushed into me, inch by inch. I could feel my breath snatched away in an instant, as my jaw dropped in a quiet moan. He seemed to enjoy the sensation of entering me as well, his eyes closing in concentration.
“So warm.. so perfect.” He murmurs, moving down to kiss my jaw. “Can I move? Can I please move?” He begs, the neediness in his voice apparent.
I nod, feverishly. “Yes. Please.”
He immediately starts moving in a fast pace, using a strength I didn't know he had in him. I could feel myself shifting up the bed with every thrust he pummeled into me, and every movement of his hips only elicited longer, louder moans. It seemed to spur him on, as he pushed my legs to my chest to gain an even deeper angle, which had me screaming in pleasure at that point.
“I’m not gonna last..” He moans out, and I nod, indicating we were in the same boat. His hand slipped in between our bodies, finding my clit in an attempt to have me finish before him.
“Please, pretty girl.” He moans, his movements never letting up. “Come for me.”
I do, feeling myself tighten around his cock, as my walls spasmed all around. It seemed to push him towards his release as well, as I felt his warmth seep into my deepest point. He pulled out of me, exhausted, laying beside me on the bed.
His hands reached over for me, and I made my way into his arms, laying my head on his chest, feeling our rapid heartbeats calm down together after our act of passion. His chest rises up and down, as does mine, and we bask in the afterglow of what just took place.
“We never did get to that magic trick.” I say, finally speaking, my words coming out a little breathlessly.
I can feel his laughter as he places a tender kiss to the top of my head, as if we’d done this a thousand times before. “After that, I’ll teach you whatever you want. Sure you could teach me a thing or two too, hmm?"
“Deal.” I say, closing my eyes and relaxing in the warmth of a man that was no longer as stranger than before.
wow!! sorry for disappearing on you guys like that!! idk how long it's been since my last post, all i know it's been a while and i'm very deeply sorry!! i hope this makes up for it. i actually wrote this as a submission to @imagining-in-the-margins 's meet cute challenge, so! fun fun fun. please reblog, like, comment, or whatever!! i genuinely love seeing what everyone has to think . just as a warning, my posting may get sporadic for the next month or so, but i promise by december we're gonna be on that weekly fic grind. again, so sorry for the sudden disappearance!!! i appreciate everyone very much for their patience!!!!
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds self insert#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader
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meaner than my demons
Dark!Bucky x Avenger!Reader au
Run-through: You wake up in a manor in the middle of nowhere with no recollection of how you got there. All you remember is that you and Bucky were out on a mission, and then nothing. Bucky…? This wasn’t his doing, was it? What you didn’t know was that Bucky, of all people, had all the reasons to become the bad guy. To avenge himself, what was done to him, and all that was mercilessly taken from him. Nobody knew just how close he’d gotten to just giving into the twisted temptations that beckoned him over. All he needed was a slight nudge, a purpose – and you gave him that unknowingly. So he went, and he dragged you over to the darkness with him.
Themes: angst, dark!bucky, kidnapping, sort of beauty and the beast vibes, mentions of bucky’s traumatic past as the winter soldier, smut, fluff, praise kink, HEA but slightly ambiguous ending ;)
a/n: the angst is strong with this one. Also, I was merely experimenting with this character so take nothing too seriously <3 ily (p.s: this is long, grab a snack)
There’s a minotaur in the middle of the maze.
That sentence echoed in your head as you slowly blinked your eyes open. Your vision was blurry, your head spun even as you laid down looking up at the shiny, intricate chandelier above the canopy bed you were currently in.
You focused on the bizarrely alluring chandelier, blinking as you tried to bring your vision back to normal, trying to get your head to stop spinning.
It felt like you were waking up after a night of heavy drinking. Slowly, as if not trusting your body, you sat up on the comfy bed.
There’s a minotaur in the middle of the maze.
There was that damn sentence again. What the fuck is even that? Where did it come from? You squinted as you looked around, feeling a throbbing headache forming. Nevermind the strange sentence, where were you was the real question here. How did you end up in this bed?
Panicking you quickly assessed your body. You were still in your mission gear, except none of your guns were in their holsters. Other than that, everything felt fine. You weren’t hurt anywhere, except for a pain at the back of your neck. You moved your head, trying to figure out what the cause of the pain was, but other than some sore muscles, nothing hurt.
You carefully sat on the edge of the bed, planting your boots on the ground and looking around. Judging by the light coming in through the ridiculously large georgian windows, it looked like it was well into the evening. And the room was… beautiful in a gothic, dark way.
Apart from the fireplace within which was lit a small fire, and the golden scones on the walls and the chandelier above the bed, everything else was dark. The walls were dark green, the large canopy bed was all-black with dark grey bedding, the high ceiling was covered in detailed moulding. Dark, wooden coffee table and bookshelves, black leather upholstered sofas, a huge chest drawer in the corner.
If you were kidnapped, you thought, you’d likely be in some dark room with no windows – like a dungeon. Not in a properly furnished, clean bedroom.
You frowned as you tried to go back, trying to figure out how you got here. You got up from the bed and approached the windows, looking out. For a moment you were mesmerised by the view outside. From this window, you could see the sprawling wings of the house on either side of you. A manor, then, not a house.
Situated at the foot of hills which rose behind the manor, partially shrouded in dense fog. Some countryside, then? You tucked that information away as you scanned the area even more. The manor it seemed was surrounded by thick woods. The hills, the fog, the dark green woods, it all seemed like it was a scene out of a mysterious, dangerous novel. The silence, the secrecy…
You looked further around and noticed a walled garden not too far to the right, and to the complete left a… huge hedge maze. You could only see part of it but–
There’s a minotaur in the middle of the maze…?
The memory came flooding into your brain, and you almost lost your balance for a moment.
You had been hiking up these hills for days. But a mission was a mission, correct? You looked behind you and noticed Bucky frowning in deep thought.
“Are you sure about this?” You asked your good friend. You and Bucky had been paired together for many missions recently, all of them successful. You two made a great team. He wasn’t much of a talker, and you enjoyed silence and solitude.
“Yeah,” He mumbled, coming to a stop beside you. “I received solid intel about a house just beyond these woods. The owner deals in illegal substances,” He added in his usual, dark-humoured, self-deprecating tone, “the kind that can create worse creatures than super soldiers.”
“Hey!” You tapped him on the chest playfully, disapproving of his joke. Still you said, “I, for one, am glad they made you.” You added to his weird humour, “I get a good friend and a perfect bodyguard all in one.”
Bucky gave you a rare smile. It made him look boyish and young, and… handsome. You looked away quickly. It always did something to you, that smile. It was a useless little crush you’d been nurturing since that day – months ago – when Bucky took a bullet to his shoulder to save you during a crossfire.
“You can stay here if you want,” Bucky suggested, “I’ll go take a look and come back.”
“No,” You reached into your backpack and pulled out two fancy binoculars, handing one to him, “We just need to get on top of this hill, and then we’ll keep an eye on the house and its ground for a while,” You explained as you began hiking up the hill again, Bucky following you loyally like he had this whole time, “And then we’ll make a plan. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Getting on top of the hill was no big deal. The hike was easy and the hill was high enough that you had a clear vision of the manor and its grounds even with thick woods between the hill and the manor.
You let out a gasp the moment you looked through the binoculars. Bucky beside you did the same thing, not gasping at the beauty of it all though. Then again, few things impressed Bucky. You supposed this luxurious, gothic manor and its elegant grounds weren’t on the list.
“Whoever this is should be ashamed that they’re using this beautiful place for something so dark.” You whispered, looking and taking in the details of the manor. It looked enchanting in the morning light.
“You like it?”
“Bucky, one would have to be an absolute idiot to not appreciate the beauty of this place. No neighbours, no one to bother you. Just foggy hills, dense woods and… ooh!” You exclaimed with genuine happiness, forgetting for a moment that you were here on a mission and not sightseeing. “Bucky! There’s a maze!”
“Really?”
You couldn’t look away. You zoomed as much as you could, trying to take in the details. “Yes, an actual maze and it’s huge!” You had the biggest smile on your face. “Oh this is a dream, and… oh look! There’s a minotaur in the middle of the maze!”
Bucky let out a chuckle. “How cliché.”
You kept watching, letting your guard completely down for a moment. You didn’t see Bucky approaching, you didn’t notice the shift, not until it was too late.
“I’m sorry, doll.”
That was the last thing you heard before feeling a burning sensation at the back of your neck, and then darkness and the warmth of Bucky’s chest as he held you to keep you from falling on the ground.
Fuck.
Bucky?
Why would he do that? You didn’t do anything. You were breathing heavily now, looking around for a way out. These windows didn’t open, and the door must be–
It opened right as you stared at it, and in walked Bucky. Dressed differently. He wasn’t in his usual mission gear. No leather jackets, no gun holsters, not even his knives. Just a casual shirt, and comfy trousers. Like this was normal. Like he was at home.
Your eyes widened as this started to make a little more sense. But you didn’t dare think about it properly. He wouldn’t… right? He was your friend. You two had fought together for years. He was one of the good guys… right?
“Buck?”
He shut the door behind him as he stepped further into the room. “I came as fast as I could when they told me you were beginning to wake up.” He said a little sheepishly.
What? But most importantly, “Who’s ‘they’?” You asked, trying your best to put all your training into practice and keeping your calm.
“My housekeepers.” He answered like it was the most obvious thing.
You noted the way he avoided your eyes, the way he kept flexing his metal hand. Bucky was slightly nervous.
You took a step back, pressing against the cold windows. “What is going on? What is this place? Did you…” Your voice cracked as you asked, “Did you drug me?”
“You wouldn’t come willingly.” He answered, staring deeply at the fireplace as he approached it and placed his metal hand on the mantle above. “And you wouldn’t be willing to listen to me.”
Your heart pounded. What was he talking about? “This place, this house is… yours?”
Bucky nodded.
“And there is no guy dealing in dangerous substances, is there?” You figured this was a trap and you walked right into it.
“No.” He answered truthfully. “There isn’t. This is my home. Well, one of them.”
“Bucky,” You whispered, cautiously. Afraid. Wary. His home? Since when? “Why?”
He finally looked at you. The soft fire in the fireplace lit one side of his face and hid the other side in shadows. Fitting, you thought, despite it all. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.” He said, almost like he was offended that you would think so. “I would never hurt you, doll.”
“I want the truth, Buck.” You stared deep into his familiar blue eyes, trying to find your friend in there. And he was there, but he was behind a dark smoke screen. “Please.”
Bucky sighed. “Take a seat.” He said softly, settling down on one of the many sofas scattered around the spacious room.
You didn’t. You remained there by the windows, like the distance between you and him would save you from the dangers you weren’t aware of yet.
He sighed again, “Fine, be difficult then.” He got up, and began walking towards you.
You panicked, remaining frozen in place for a moment. But by the time you moved to get away from him, he was too close. You went to run away but his metal hand firmly around your wrist stopped you.
“I won’t hurt you.” He repeated, pulling you close until you hit his chest, then wrapped his other arms around you. “Believe me,” He said.
You shook your head as you looked into his eyes, the hidden darkness in them. “What happened to you?” You whispered, “Why are you doing this?”
He frowned as if you were the one being ridiculous. “Don’t you see? This place is perfect for us.”
For us?
You noted the strange haze in his captivating eyes. Something was different about him.
“What?” You blinked, ignoring the many questions you had. “Bucky, our friends, they need us.” You tried reasoning, though in vain, “We need to go back. And keep fighting–”
“Back to what?” He argued, cutting you off. “Fight for who?”
“The innocent people, Buck. The ones who are constant victims of our enemies, and–,”
“I was a victim too.” He said, silencing you at once with a dark tone. “No one fought for me.”
He rarely ever brought up HYDRA, so this was new territory to you. You approached it carefully, softening your voice as you said, “Steve did.”
Bucky surprised you by scoffing carelessly. Dropping his voice he said, “And yet, all I ever was to him in the end was disposable.”
That shut you up.
For a moment you felt a fraction of the pain he felt. You always empathised with him, even before you started nurturing that little crush you had on him. “But you have the chance now, Buck.” You tried reasoning, calmly and no longer resisting his grip on your wrist. “Let’s go back, and fight so no one ever has to suffer like you did.”
“No.”
The finality in his tone made you shiver. “So what? You’re gonna keep me captive here and we’re gonna let the bad people win?”
Bucky sighed. “They already won. Don’t you see the state of this world?”
You flinched. “That’s your goal then? To punish the world and everyone in it?”
“Punish it?” He scoffed. “No. I want to see it try and fend for itself. Or watch it die trying.”
“Bucky…” You didn’t recognise the man you were looking at. “We can make a difference, no matter how minor. We’re the good guys, remember?”
He let go of your hand, turned to face the windows pensively. “I’m done being good.”
You remained frozen in place, assessing the situation quickly. He had his back to you, so he was confident you wouldn’t hurt him. He had shut the door on his way in but never locked it. That must mean even if you got past the door, he must’ve made sure you wouldn’t make it out of this house.
But you couldn’t leave, could you? You believed him when he said he wouldn’t hurt you. You wouldn’t leave him here like this. Bucky was hurting, and he was acting this way because of that. But the house? Why bring you here? Why drug you? What did he want?
“Bucky,” You said after taking a deep breath. “You’re my friend, we’ve fought together for years. You rescued me so many times. You took a bullet for me. I know you’re good.”
He shook his head, looking out the window. “I’ve been good, all my life. I was good when I followed Steve and believed in what he stood for. I was good when I was captured, and forced to be a killing machine. I was good, deep down I know I was still good, even when they wiped my mind each time and made me perform however they wanted.”
You flinched, your heart sinking with each word that came out of his mouth.
He continued, as if numb to it all.
“I was desperately good even when I found myself stuck in a wrong, superhuman body. I was good even when everyone around me expected me to get over it and keep fighting like a good little soldier.” He finally turned to you and said, “I’m done, now. What did it ever give me?”
His words hit harder than a punch to the face. “Buck…” You almost comforted him, because there was still your dear friend, broken. But wrong. So wrong to believe there weren't still good things to fight for. “You have people who care for you.”
“Do I?” His tone was mocking. And you didn’t dare reply, so he continued. “I’ve been used in experiments that had no ethical limits. I’ve been a weapon, a commodity. I’ve been a mindless soldier. I’ve been stuck in the body of a murderer. I’ve been a throwaway friend. No one ever cared.”
“I do.”
Bucky was quiet. His shoulders moving just a little as he breathed deeply.
You continued. “And Sam does. And so do all of our friends.” You argued, trying to find something, anything to prove a point, “I mean, all of Wakanda believed in you when they helped you.”
“They did.” He almost smiled in gratitude. “But they never trusted me.” He sounded genuinely sad. “I remained a weapon.” He looked down at his shiny metal arm and added, “So easily dismantled.”
Was this really how you would lose him? To the darkness in his head? Your heart pounded as you looked at him. Standing proud and tall, looking out the window as the darkening evening made the room even dimmer. The last logs in the fireplace cracked. And Bucky was still so beautiful standing by the window, but broken. Like a tortured and grim lord of the manor.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, Buck.” You took a step back when he turned to face you.
“No, it doesn’t.” He agreed, weirdly. Then added, “I don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t care about the rest of the world, I’m done being a good little soldier. I just want to be a man.” He took a few more steps until he was right in front of you. His handsome face so close to yours. “And be with the woman I want, in our own quiet little paradise.” His hand reached out to gently stroke your cheek. His metal hand found itself on your waist, tugging you closer gently. “Isn’t this perfect, doll? Hmm?”
You were so surprised that you didn’t even properly register the meaning behind his words until you replayed it in your head a few times. “You… what?”
“You know,” He smirked, fingers now tracing your parted lips. “At first I wondered what was taking you so long to realise. I’m not very good at being subtle with my feelings, you see. But you never caught on.” His smirk widened. “And then I found out why in the best way possible.”
You were afraid to ask for some reasons. “Why?” You whispered.
Bucky leaned in, brushing the cold tip of his nose against your cheek, and said, “Because you like me too, and you were too busy hiding your own feelings that you didn’t pay attention to mine. Wanna know how I know?” He chuckled, “I heard you whispering my name under your breath as you touched yourself. Too many times to count.”
You gasped in surprise, unable to move.
“Well,” He said, “That’s a figure of speech, of course I know exactly how many times. I kept count.” He continued, loving the way you began squirming in embarrassment. “It’s the metal hand, isn’t it? It turns you on?” He chuckled.
“You…” You finally found your voice and stumbled on your words, “You had no right.”
He laughed, pulling away to look at you. “To listen to you moaning my name? Not my fault you’re so loud to my very, very sensitive ears.” He teased.
He was so close. His chest, so warm. His arms around you, so perfect that you almost forgot all about the conversation you had before all this.
You stepped away, and out of his embrace. Taking a deep breath, you tried to focus on the important thing here. “What do you want, Bucky?”
He shrugged, “Well right now I want us to have dinner, it’s getting late and you haven’t eaten all day.”
You sighed. “Then? When I want to leave, you’ll stop me?”
Bucky was so very still. It was inhuman. Then again, he was not exactly just a regular guy. “If I wanted you trapped here you would have woken up tied to the bed, doll.”
“So I can walk away from here if I want?” You asked. No. That would be too easy. Wouldn’t it?
“You could.”
Another trap, you figured. For the first time since this absurd evening started, you straightened your back and faced Bucky with a little less fear, and embarrassment. “You won’t win, Bucky. Not like this.”
He gave you a handsome, smug grin and said, “We’ll talk about all that later. Now, do what you need to do, freshen up,” He pointed at the door in the corner of the bedroom, the bathroom you assumed, “And join me for dinner downstairs.” He leaned in and too casually kissed your forehead. “Don’t keep me waiting, doll.”
And he left. Leaving you even more confused than when you didn’t have any answers.
You thought about it as you reluctantly made your way into the bathroom which was just as dark and luxurious as the rest of the bedroom. Dark green walls, a large white and gold tub, mouldings on the ceiling matching the bedroom, large gilded mirrors and sinks. A spacious shower booth, with fancy faucets and shower heads.
You checked the many cabinets and found everything one could need. The skin care products looked inviting but first of all, you needed a hot shower. You grabbed a neatly folded bathrobe and some body wash products and stepped into the booth.
Then you spent your time thinking about everything. What did you know as of now? That Bucky owned this place, it was his home. That Bucky was done fighting, he had plans to say ‘fuck it all’ and retire. That he liked you back? Fine, he did. He wanted you to stay here with him? And never fight again? That was a whole other thing you had to worry about. But first, how to get out of here?
Also how did Bucky afford this place? Had he always been filthy rich?
What was the endgame here? And if he managed to keep you here, would any of your friends come looking for you? No one even knew where you were, that’s how much you trusted Bucky. The moment he brought this fake mission up you agreed to come with him immediately. Alright, your little crush had had an influence on your decision making but still.
Could you trust Bucky now? It felt foolish to admit, but yes. Yes you could. Bucky would never hurt you.
So you got out of the shower, with more questions and made your way back to the room and found neatly folded clothes on the bed. Soft, comfy, casual clothes. You put them on and took a deep breath before you stepped out of the room.
As you made your way down one of the two ornate staircases, you hoped you’d find Bucky again somewhere down here. Meanwhile you couldn’t help but admire his home. It was… hauntingly beautiful. It was more dark than lit. Rich colours: dark green, dark red, black. Gilded picture frames along the hallways, large foyer, high ceilings, carved designs on almost all the furniture. Everything screamed luxury, expensive taste, old money, and like a home out of another era. An older era.
You couldn’t see any of the housekeepers, but you soon found Bucky sitting at the head of a ridiculously fancy dining table in the dining room.
“There you are,” He said, placing his wine glass down, “I was beginning to think you must be trying to get away.” He teased.
You rolled your eyes and then quickly took in the room. Just as spacious as the rest of the house. A fireplace in a corner, tall arched windows, dark red curtains which allowed just the briefest amount of moonlight to come in. The room was well lit, and you couldn’t miss the grand chandelier above the adorned table and chairs.
Sitting at the head of that table, Bucky reminded you of a bored prince – surrounded by unexplainable luxury which suited him too well.
You took a seat at the other end of the table, facing Bucky fully. He noted your tactic and smirked. Then you said, “I didn't know you were rich.” Because surely super soldiers aren’t getting paid this much.
He shrugged like it was no big deal, “I’m over a century old, doll. I would be an absolute idiot if I didn’t amass a fortune that could last me a couple more lifetimes.”
You also noted the way he used your own words against you, but kept quiet. “Right. But how exactly?”
He explained. “A lot of the people I was asked to... get rid of for HYDRA were influential people. Rich, wealthy, borderline royalty. And they would always try to bribe me just to be spared. They offered me everything I wanted if I let them go.”
He sighed, almost in annoyance of the memories.
He continued, “I couldn't let them go of course, but they always revealed all their secrets during their last moments.” His stare was distant. “And after the job was done, whatever they left behind, whatever they offered, locations of their hidden wealth and riches, it was all mine for the taking.” He added, “And since I was a good little machine, HYDRA never looked too deep into what I did as long as I got the job done.”
Everytime Bucky opened up about his past, you realised that there was so much about him that you didn’t know. “That’s a lot of secrets.”
“Indeed.”
“And this manor? It’s one of the secrets left behind by someone you got rid of as well?”
“No,” He said, “This was built from the ground up. Decades ago.”
Decades. Again, another reminder of how many lives he had lived in the past century. It was almost fascinating. You opened your mouth to ask another question, but the door behind Bucky – which you hadn’t noticed earlier – opened and in walked two ladies with full trays in their hands. One of the trays filled with food, including a glass of wine, was brought over to you.
You eyed the tray for a moment before you sent a questioning glare at Bucky.
“What? Is it a surprise that I know what you like?” There was that smug grin again on his handsome face.
Hunger won over confusion and anger, so you took a bite out of some food before you asked, “How did you put up such a good façade? For so long?” Hiding all of this couldn’t have been easy, right?
“I didn't.” He answered. “I thought a broken soldier was what I needed to be, all I could ever be.” He smiled, “Then I met you and for the first time, I craved a simpler life. One where we could have nothing but time to do what we wanted, and no longer have to partake in fights that aren't ours.”
You genuinely wanted to know, so you asked softly, “Is this truly what you want, Buck? To sit here and say to hell with the world outside?”
“Isn’t it peaceful?” He questioned, “No meetings, or briefings. No country out to get us, no enemies out to kill us.”
You remained quiet. For a little while, you both ate in silence. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on each one of your movements. He kept quiet though, and then you asked, “Why is no one out to get you? Given who you are and who you used to be, one would assume you’d have the most enemies out there.”
“I have friends in all the right places.” He answered.
You frowned. “What does that mean?”
He smirked, “Now, I can’t give away all my secrets, can I?” He said as he stood up, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “I have some things I need to do, you’ll find your way back to your room?”
You nodded, though suspicious at the sudden freedom.
He whispered a quick ‘good night’ and left. Which made you frown in confusion because why would he leave you here? When you could easily walk out? Was he expecting you to try and escape? Was he hoping you would?
You got up from the table, and carefully walked out of the dining room, stepping into the hallway. You didn’t take the time to admire the scones on the walls, the paintings, anything. All you saw was the foyer and beyond which was the grand entrance of the manor.
Even from the inside you could see the foggy air outside. The fog swirling around like smoke. It looked cold out. Even if you made a run for it, you would be sick and frozen by morning.
You stood there for a moment, steps away from the foyer. There were no cameras, that was the first thing you looked for in the house. None of the housekeepers could be seen, you realised they made themselves scarce.
You should’ve taken the staircase and gone back up to the bedroom. Maybe you’d question Bucky tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow he’d listen. But the front doors looked tempting. And that part of your brain which always went seeking trouble, the part that always pushed you into doing bold things, that part made you move towards the doors.
Chances were that Bucky was watching, and you almost wanted him to see. To see that you couldn’t be kept here. So you went for it. You waited for some kind of alarm to go off as you turned the door knob and pulled open the door, stepping a foot out and then the other. But no alarm came.
The fog messed with your vision, you couldn’t see further than the white marble steps. It was cold and you had no extra layers on. This was stupid. And yet, you took a few more steps down the marble stairs which led to what you assumed would be the front yard.
You were about five steps down before you stopped. There was the silhouette of a male figure standing at the bottom of the stairs, engulfed by the fog. The moonlight made him look like a dark villain. Yet the shiny metal arm gave him away. “I thought you said I could walk away.” You tested the waters.
“I did say you could.” He took a step up the stairs, “I didn’t say I would let you get too far.”
You scoffed, trying your hardest to hide how you shivered in the cold night. The fog was all around you by now. All you could see was the faint outline of Bucky and the white stairs.
“Get back inside,” He ordered. “It’s cold out.”
“I won’t let you make a prisoner out of me.”
“That’s not my goal here.” He sounded reassuring.
“Then let me go.”
“You know I can’t do that, doll.” He took another step, getting closer. You could tell by his stance that he was ready for it, should you want to fight your way out of here.
And you did. You went for it.
First a punch, then a kick. It was hard to keep your balance on marble stairs, but you did your best, just like when you two used to spar while training.
You gave it your all, you tried your hardest to get him off his feet and on the ground and possibly make a run for it, but he anticipated each punch, each kick. You put up a decent fight for a few minutes, grunting at each failed punch and kick.
“I don’t want to hurt you!” He growled, blocking yet another one of your punches.
You didn’t stop, you kept trying until it hurt. Until he managed to have you pinned to the ground, your back hurting against the marble stairs, metal hand around your throat, his muscular body straddling yours right there on the cool marble stairs, the edge of the steps digging into your skin, making you hiss in pain.
“Let go!” You spat bitterly at him, looking up and finding him glaring down at you. His breath fogged against the cold air.
Bucky chuckled. “You forgot you trained you, doll? Hmm? You forgot who taught you everything you know about combat?” Bucky smirked as he leaned down. His face was directly above yours, his nose touching yours. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to walk away all hard after sparring with you?” He leaned just a little closer so his mouth hovered over yours. “It turned you on too, didn’t it? I could smell it then. And I can smell it now.”
That did it. You managed to find enough energy to push him off of you, you were on him the moment his body hit the marble floor, straddling him and pinning him to the ground by the throat just like he did you. You could tell the edges of the stairs were digging into his back too by the way he hissed. But you didn’t let go.
“Enough.” You tightened your grip around his throat. “I won’t play this little game with you.” You breathed heavily, exhausted by now, “You want to stay here and pretend to be some tortured, gothic lord of the manor? Fine! Go ahead. But let me go.”
“You don’t want to go.” He whispered, confidently. He just laid there, under you. Arms limp by his sides even though you knew too well that he could flip you around at any moment he wanted.
“Oh yeah? Is that what you think?”
He smirked. It annoyed you how handsome he was. “I know. If you so desperately wanted to get out of here then by now you would’ve used the knife you snuck into your pocket from the dinner table.” He chuckled. “Can’t do it, can you?”
Damn him. And here you thought you were being slick. You didn’t realise his hands had moved, no longer limp on his sides but now on your legs, fingers reaching for the crease of your thighs, rubbing your skin through the thin PJ pants you wore.
You gasped when his metal hand found its way between your parted legs, caressing you through the layers of clothing you wore. “Don’t you see?” He said, cold fingers moving along your waistband, “I’m doing this for us.” His fingers slipped into your pants, making you gasp even louder as you felt him touching you.
Your face burned as you thought about how many times you’d dreamt of this moment. How many times had you pretended it was his hand touching you. But it was never in these circumstances. Never had you thought it would happen on marble stairs, surrounded by dense fog, in some mysterious manor.
“Bucky,” You whispered, feeling his fingers slowly separating your wet folds, inspecting your slit before he slid one, then a second metal finger into you.
“Yes, baby?” His other hand wandered all over your body as you straddled him, reaching up to cup your face. His thumb traced the shape of your mouth while his two metal fingers slid so perfectly in and out of you, making you ride his fingers just briefly to chase the feeling of them against you. “Doesn’t it feel good? Hmm?” He thrust his fingers deeper into you, his metal thumb gently rubbing your clit, “Does it feel better than your fantasies?”
Damn him.
You couldn’t help but grind against his hand, wanting more and more. You didn’t care about anything right now, all that mattered was how good it felt. How much, much better than your fantasies it was. But you wouldn’t tell him all that.
He didn’t need to be told. He could see it. The way you moved your hips, the way you bit your lower lip to hold back your moans and whimpers, the way you clenched around his fingers. “Come for me, doll.” He whispered, feeling your grip loosen around his throat. “Come all over my fingers like a good girl.”
You hated how quickly you came, grinding against his hand and riding his fingers like a desperate woman. The cold, the fog, your knees digging into the hard marble, none of it mattered as you came, panting and trying your hardest to catch your breath.
“We should head back inside,” He said, catching you just in time as you were about to collapse on top of the stairs, cradling you carefully. “Don’t want you to catch a cold.”
—
Two days later, Bucky asked you during breakfast if you wanted to see the walled garden.
The two of you hadn’t talked much these past two days. You only saw Bucky at meal times, and kept to yourself mostly. The weather had been mostly rainy as well, even thunderstorms at night. It suited the foggy environment really well.
Neither you nor Bucky brought up that night you two fucked. You crossed paths with him these past two days in the dining room, the hallways, and the main living room, but you didn’t say a word to each other. It was painfully awkward.
You didn’t hate what happened. You just didn’t understand. You didn’t understand him, nor this situation. None of it. How can Bucky just switch like that? How did he manage to hide all this? What else could he be hiding?
And this morning, now that the rain had temporarily disappeared and a soft sun was shining, when he offered to show you around the walled garden, it felt like he was extending a peaceful hand. So you agreed immediately. You could use some fresh air. Plus, you figured, you and Bucky would have to talk at some point.
So by mid-morning, you followed him out into the yard. The walled garden was closeby, and it was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. It was huge. The landscaping was incredible, you could tell a lot of care went into it.
This is...," You couldn’t come up with the right words.
There was a pond in the middle. The four stone walls were covered with vines and the tiniest little flowers. The entrance was a moon gate, the entire thing was filled with brick pathways, a small section was dedicated to herbs, but most of the space was occupied by well trimmed hedges and bushes.
"Beautiful, isn’t it?" He looked around, as if trying to see what it looks like from the eyes of someone seeing it for the first time. "I spend a lot of my time here." He sounded so calm as he said it. Like it brought him genuine happiness.
"It's so peaceful here."
You could hear the birds in the nearby trees. You could feel the breeze. The sweet smell of the flowers and slightly stronger scent of the herbs. The cool, damp ground while the smell of the rain lingered. The lush green vines surrounding the walls of the garden. It was more peaceful than it was breathtakingly beautiful.
Its owner looked no less breathtaking. Dressed in simple dark trousers and a dark green sweater, he looked every bit the master of these grounds. He looked so different now, compared to the Bucky you used to know.
"We should talk, Buck." You looked down, playing with the fabric of your soft sweater.
"Yes," He agreed. "You've been ignoring me." He accused.
You couldn’t look up at him, not even when he stepped closer. “Not ignoring you, I just… it’s hard to understand you, Bucky.” You explained. “One moment you were someone I knew for years, a constant in my life and now you’re… I don’t know this new you.”
He remained quiet, listening.
You continued. “Plus you talk about us living here like it was the plan all along.”
“Wasn’t it?” He said, clenching his jaw then unclenching it. You hated how much you liked that. “Finding peace and a home. Wasn’t that the end goal? Or did you plan to sacrifice yourself in combat?”
“Our job is to fight, Buck. We–”
“Who said that?” He argued. “Haven’t we fought enough? Haven’t we given enough?”
You sighed, looking away at the pond like it would have some answers. Then you said, “We can’t just live out here, away from everyone, leave the world to burn and pretend that this isn’t selfish, Buck.”
Bucky shrugged, “Why? Nobody batted an eye when Stark did it.”
“It was different for him.” You said, taking a few steps to reach the nearest rose bush. It had no flowers but you admired it all the same. “He had a family, a kid. He was a married man.”
Bucky scoffed, “That’s it? That’s what it’ll take, then? I can marry you and give you a child.” He sounded partially playful. And it made you roll your eyes.
“Shut up, Buck.”
He chuckled. For a moment it sounded like the many bickerings you two always had as friends. For a moment all of this felt normal, comfortable.
But it couldn’t be, could it?
“You’re gonna have to let me go at some point.”
“No.” He answered, sounding sure of himself as he pulled you into his arms. “I won’t let you go back and fight till it kills you. All so you can protect a world or its people who won’t even care that you died for them.”
“That’s not your choice to make.” You looked up at him, unable to help yourself as you looked down at his soft lips, wondering what they tasted like.
“It is.” He argued, leaning in so his mouth brushed against yours. “We could live normal lives, away from all that. Just you and me. We could travel, see whatever little beauty is left in this world. And just be free. Be us.”
You pushed him away even though all you wanted was to be close to him. “And then what?” You asked, “We’ll be together forever? I have a couple more decades at best. I’m human, remember that.”
He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets and said, “You could change that.”
You frowned. “What does that mean?”
Nothing could’ve prepared you for what he said next. “I have vials of the serum used on me. Not all of it was destroyed over the years.” He sent a curious look your way. “Maybe if you–,”
You shook your head, rushing past him and almost running back into the house. “You’re insane, Bucky Barnes!”
Bucky ran after you, “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that, baby. I didn’t mean right now!”
“No!” You stopped and turned to face him, pointing a finger at his face. “After all that you told me the other night, about being trapped in an alien body and all, now you suggest that you’ll have me take the serum just so you can live out this sick, twisted fantasy you created of us in your head?”
Bucky stepped closer to you, reaching out with his metal arm and pulling you closer to him. “I’m saying you’d have the choice. I would never force you. And you know that.”
You were quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you stared into his deep blue eyes. You didn’t know why, maybe it was the stress of these past few days and this conversation you two had just had, but your eyes burned as you began tearing up. “What happened to you, Buck?” Your voice cracked as you asked.
You closed your eyes, letting the tears fall down your cheeks. You felt his face getting closer and closer until he pressed his forehead against yours, both his arms circling around you.
“I’m sorry,” He said, “I shouldn’t have said that. I… I don’t know how to keep you close to me.”
You didn’t say anything. You just let him hold you, while you felt that inner turmoil growing.
—
You ignored Bucky again for the next week or so. You stopped showing up to join him for meals, so he resorted to having your food sent up to your room for you. In that week of silent treatment, you’d began talking to the lovely ladies who worked in his home.
The oldest of the two was the most affectionate, and she always brought you extra servings of your favourite desserts. Which you had been ignoring.
One night as she brought your dinner in she said, “He hasn’t been eating well either, you know?”
You pretended you didn’t care. So you didn’t say anything.
The kind lady spoke again, “He’s not bad at heart.”
You couldn’t help but ask, “How long have you known him?”
She smiled fondly, “Decades. I came looking for work when the house was being built. I’m from the nearby town, you see? And my family… Well, they disowned me after I had a child out of wedlock. I had nowhere to go. But James took me in.” She chuckled, “Of course, I’ve grown old since.”
But he remained the same.
She continued, “He’s always been kind. A little cold, maybe. But he’s kind.” She paused and added, “And he’s lonely. He’s trapped, you see? In a world he should’ve never been in. Companionship, perhaps, would make this a little more bearable for him.”
“It’s not so easy to give up what he’s asking me to. He’s asking me to give up everything, to leave it all behind.” Granted there wasn’t much to leave in the first place. You had no family, and the only friends you had were the ones you fought alongside with.
She carefully reached out and touched your cheek. The warmth of her hand made you smile faintly. “We all make sacrifices for love, don’t we?”
You sighed, “I think he’s hurt, and confused.”
She laughed quietly, “Oh James is many things, confused isn’t one of them.”
You frowned. “Do you not see that he’s wrong?” You sounded unsure of yourself for a moment there.
“For choosing to live his life how he wants to? For wanting a better life for you? No.”
Fine then. “What about how he’s keeping me here?”
She smiled again. “You know, he always talks about you since the day you two first met years ago. And he always told me how brilliant you were, how strong and brave you were in combat. How well you did in training and how easily you took down men twice the size of you.” She smiled proudly, even though she’d just met you. “And you know what I think?” She paused, “I think if you really wanted to leave, you would’ve fought your way out of here already.” Then before she left your bedroom she added, “Don’t underestimate how much that man loves you.”
You didn’t sleep all night because you kept replaying that conversation in your head. Over and over again. Were you here, truly, on your own volition after all? Did you subconsciously want this over the violence?
—
The next morning, Bucky was surprised to find you making your way into his library. He watched quietly how you paused at the doorway, wide-eyed and startled.
“You have a library.”
It sounded less awe-struck and more like an accusation. Like how dare he have a whole ass library and not show it to you earlier? Bucky saw a glimpse of the normal you, and he couldn’t help but smile. This was a gift after a whole week of you ignoring him and him pretending like he wasn’t walking around sulking. “Did you lose your way or did you mean to ruin your streak of giving me the silent treatment?”
He smirked when you glared at him.
Damn, his smirk. The way it lit up his handsome face… it had been too long since you’d come. And given he had admitted to having heard you masturbate before, you didn’t dare do it under his own roof. So it was safe to say that you were, maybe, just a little touch-starved and needy.
And him looking this good early in the morning was not helping. Tight black t-shirt, and soft, grey PJ pants. How dare he look this good while you were barely able to make sense of all that was happening?
“We should talk. Properly. No fighting, no arguing.” You said.
Bucky nodded, leaning against a nearby bookshelf. “What about?”
You took a deep breath, “I think I know why I haven’t fought my way out of here yet. Because let’s face it, I could kick your ass if I really wanted to.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
You took a few steps around the room, eyeing the many shelves. It was a grand, two-level library. With ornate metal stairs that led to the top level. It would take a couple of lifetimes to read all the books here. Or maybe just one long super soldier lifetime.
“Because I’m curious.” You admitted. “You were simply my friend before. But–”
He added pompously, “One you have a crush on.”
You ignored that, for now. “But now you’re… someone I don’t know. It’s hard to– it feels different. You feel different. And I can’t help it, but I want to know more. About this life you’re choosing to live. How is it so easy for you to make that choice without any guilt? I want to know.”
Bucky took a moment to process, then asked, “Are you giving me a chance?”
“I’m tired of being angry at you for kidnapping me.” You said, sighing. He opened his mouth to argue but you raised a hand to stop him. “I don’t agree with the way you did things, how you’re keeping me here, but I… I miss you, Buck. I miss us.”
Well, since you were having an honest conversation, Bucky felt comfortable to ask, “Do you still like me?” There was a rare vulnerability in his tone.
You allowed yourself to take a step closer to the shelf he was leaning against. Inching closer to him you murmured, “I would’ve stabbed you that very first night if I didn’t.”
He smiled. You smiled back.
—
Things were gradually getting back to normal after that. Well, about as normal as things can get when you’re forbidden from leaving the grounds of your friend’s manor.
You’d missed your usual morning runs, so you resumed going on runs in the mornings. The grounds were more vast than you thought, it took you days to finally map out the entire place. All except the maze. You always ran by it, or around it, never daring to go inside it. Not yet.
After your runs, and a quick shower, you’d always join Bucky for breakfast. Over time, you learned so much about him and the life he had here. It wasn’t just this magnificent home he owned, but numerous farms and multiple businesses in the small town nearby.
Your ‘relationship’ with him changed as well. While the two of you didn’t have sex again, the tension was beginning to get too much to ignore. Quick kisses in the mornings, and lingering kisses at night. Oftentimes you were tempted to ask Bucky to spend the night with you, but you thought it’d be best to wait. After all, this was all so new.
For the first time in years, you were actually contemplating leaving the ‘superhero’ duties behind and choosing yourself. It was hard not to constantly taste the guilt whenever you found yourself so close to giving into Bucky, and choosing what he was offering.
—
“Do you really have the serum?”
You asked one morning, while the two of you chose to have breakfast in the library. It was a rainy morning, and the library had massive windows so Bucky suggested you spend the morning there, knowing how much you liked it when it rained.
You agreed. Who would say no to breakfast, good books, and a rainy morning?
Then you got curious, and asked about the serum.
Bucky nodded. “I managed to get my hands on a few vials.”
Your eyes widened. “A few? How the hell did you do that?”
Bucky had a humourless smile on his face. “They tended to give me some freedom whenever I took part in their…more peculiar experiments.”
You were quick to say, “We don’t have to talk about it if–,”
He cut you off and explained nonetheless, “They were trying to see if they could create a new generation of super soldiers naturally.”
You wanted so much to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Not out of pity, no. Just to remind him of how strong he is and how far he’s come. How he didn’t deserve all that he went through.
“I had the chance, and I just took some of the vials and hid them out here.”
“Can I ask why?”
He kept that same humourless smile. “Out of desperation I guess. I secretly hoped that one day someone might want to be with me. And if needed, I could keep them with me for longer than their human life would naturally allow.”
“Oh, Buck.”
You couldn’t help yourself then. You stood up, walked around the small coffee table and sat on the arm of the sofa Bucky was currently sat on. Behind him, rain hit the window mercilessly as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into you.
He leaned into the hug for a moment, before pulling onto his lap then properly hugging you. He shoved his face into your neck, just breathing. His arms around you were not letting you go anytime soon.
“I need you.” He murmured against your neck, beginning to lightly kiss your skin. “Please,” He whispered.
The desire in his voice couldn’t go unnoticed, and you were barely able to hold back either so you quickly straddled him properly. Thankfully the dress you’d chosen for today allowed you to move comfortably.
Bucky hands were eager, touching you everywhere he could, greedy for more. He grabbed you by the hips and pressed you down, onto his prominent erection. He watched how you whimpered, how your hands found themselves under the tight fabric of his shirt, pressing against his chest, feeling him.
Bucky smirked when he felt your hands moving down his chest, further down until you were rapidly undoing his pants and freeing his throbbing cock. He caught the way you whimpered under your breath at the sight of him, then you went on to wrap your hand around him, slowly stroking him, making him throw his head back and groan under his breath. “Fuck, that feels good, baby. That’s it, keep going.”
You leaned in close to him again, “I want you,” you whispered against his lips and then pressed your mouth to his. You slipped your tongue past his lips and slowly stroked the top of his mouth, unable to pretend any longer.
He growled into your mouth, into the kiss as his hands rubbed up and down your sides lovingly. “Take me then. I’m all yours.”
You didn’t waste any more time. You pulled away from the kiss briefly, lifting your lower body off his. Bucky helped by pulling your thin underwear to the side – both too impatient to properly take your clothes off – and he watched how you slowly lowered yourself down on his cock.
Your body resisted just a little to fit him inside, but then he pulled you down till you sank down on him completely, both of you moaning at the feeling.
Bucky grabbed your hips in place and gently thrust his hips up and you moaned wantonly as you felt him fill you up. “Fuck, baby… such a good girl for me.”
You whimpered as the tip of his cock reached sensitive places you never knew existed. You took a good look at the man beneath you. He was beyond beautiful. Lips parted, breathing heavily. It gave you a warm rush to see him this worked up knowing you were the reason why.
You moved faster then, impaling yourself down on his cock. You whimpered shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. His metal hand slipped between the two of you and found your clit, he rubbed it lazily.
“This little cunt was made for me, wasn’t it?” He groaned, looking up to watch how you frowned in pleasure. “All for me…”
You leaned down to kiss him, biting down and tugging at his bottom lip while you sped up, and his cock stretched you out each time he filled you up. “You feel so good,” You mumbled.
Bucky pulled your warm body closer to his. Your lips brushed against his each time you moved up and down his cock. “You’re mine.” He said. “You hear me?”
You nodded, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his eyes. Bucky held you at your waist and rhythmically thrust his hips up each time to match your movements. Brows furrowing and panting while you rode his cock.
“Tell me you’re mine.” He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. “Tell me you’re mine to fuck, to love, and care for. Tell me.”
“All yours…” You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and he kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came, hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him as you came undone. You panted and leaned forward, pushing your face into his neck to catch your breath.
Bucky came right after you, his warm load spilling inside of you, filling you up as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your trembling body closer to him.
You laid your head on his shoulder, catching your breath, as you thought of a lot of things. The main one being, you didn’t hate this at all. You wouldn’t mind if this was your daily life. Maybe it was the post-sex brain but, this felt so right and you didn’t ever want to leave this moment.
—
It was hard keeping your hands to yourselves for the following days. You and Bucky began sleeping in the same bed.
On days when the weather was good, Bucky would take you out and show you around the little town. It was cosy and perfect, and had the best bakeries in the world. Then he would take you to the many farms he owned, and you saw genuine happiness on his face. Like this calm life was indeed all he wanted.
And time just flew by. You no longer kept track of days.
One evening, Bucky asked, “Have you been in the maze yet?”
You linked your elbow to his as the two of you made your way downstairs, and said, “Not yet. It looks… I don’t know, intimidating. And it’s huge, I worry I’ll get lost.”
Bucky chuckled. “Want me to take you?”
“Right now? But it’s getting dark.”
“Come,” He led you to the front door, crossing the foyer, “It’s prettier at night anyway.”
It was dark out, but there were golden lights placed all around the tall hedge maze. It wasn’t too lit up but just enough to create the right ambiance and allow one to roam around comfortably. It was colder inside, you realised as you held onto Bucky’s hand and let him guide you deeper and deeper inside.
The fog was beginning to float around, settling just above the ground the deeper you went inside the maze. You shivered, despite the coat Bucky insisted you wore before stepping out of the house.
“Don’t be scared, baby.” Bucky reassured you as he wrapped his arm tighter around you. “I’m right here.”
The maze wasn’t creepy by any means. Like everything else on these grounds, it was hauntingly beautiful. Timeless. Like it knows too much, like it was alive and it remembered. It was inviting, even as you went deeper and deeper until you reached the middle. And faced the gigantic water fountain, in the middle of which, placed on a stone pedestal was the minotaur statue.
It felt alive too. Like he was waiting for a command to move.
The middle area was spacious, tidy and beautiful. With alcoves, benches, bird feeders, and brick pathways. And in the dark, with fog swirling around, it looked like a scene from a movie.
Bucky stood back and let you take it all in. He watched how you slowly walked around the fountain, admiring the intricate details, admiring the statue.
Then you asked, “Why the minotaur?” You stopped at the other side of the fountain, watching Bucky through the soft streams of water that fell.
Bucky smiled. “For dramatics, mostly. I like the myth.”
You chuckled. “I see.”
Bucky shoved his hands into his coat pockets and asked, “You ever wonder what truly happened to the maidens that were sent into the minotaur’s maze?”
“They were never seen again. He either ate or killed them according to the myths.” You answered.
He nodded, “Or maybe he didn’t hurt them. Maybe they just never wanted to leave.”
Ah. So he was speaking in riddles again. “Like how you don’t want me to ever leave?”
“You won’t.” He sounded too sure, yet again.
“You sound very sure.” You watched him carefully.
Bucky smiled, “You forget that I know you, doll. Better than you know yourself.” He paused, then added, “You find comfort in the darkness too.”
“Comfort?”
Bucky remained on the other side of the fountain as he spoke, the fog swirling around him almost like he ordered it to. “You think I don’t know you have trouble sleeping? That the nightmares bother you too? Of all the missions we’ve been on, the people we’ve had to kill for some greater good? Cities we demolished? Houses and families we tore apart? All in the name of being altruistic heroes?”
Suddenly you had trouble breathing.
Bucky continued, this time walking around the fountain and slowly getting closer to you, “That’s why you like running, isn’t it? You pretend you’re running from it all. You pretend you’re free. That you can finally escape it all and put an end to it. You run till your legs get numb, till your lungs burn. Till each breath hurts. So it can finally feel like well-deserved punishment.”
“Stop.” You audibly gasped for air this time, as your eyes began watering. You no longer felt the cold. No longer felt the dampness of the fog. Nothing, but the ache in your chest.
“I’ve been there, doll. No matter what you do, it doesn’t go away. The guilt doesn’t go away. Not until you stop and walk away from that life.”
“Bucky, please…” You turned around, not able to face him anymore as the tears fell down your cheeks. You heard him getting closer. You felt his warmth against your back as he placed his arms around you, pulling you in.
“Maybe that’s why the maidens never left the maze.” He said. “Maybe they realised that his darkness was better than the cruel world who reduced their pure hearts and souls to being mere sacrifices.”
The night had gotten colder somehow. The wind had picked up, like it was about to rain. The fog clinging to the hedges was thicker now.
“Stay with me.” He whispered into your ear. “It’s chaos out there. Stay here with me.”
You sniffled quietly. “I’m scared, Buck.”
The rain came then. Light drizzle, then slowly getting heavier. Bucky pulled you to the nearest alcove and kept you safe and warm between the stone wall and his muscular body, sheltering you from the rain.
“I’m here.” He reassured you.
“I’m scared.” You repeated, holding onto him like he was the only thing you’d ever hold.
Bucky pressed his lips against your forehead, “I know, baby. I know.” He murmured. “But I see you. You'll never have to pretend with me. I know you’re tired, of fighting, of being good and getting nothing in return. It’s okay to stop, baby. We’ll never have to fight or kill again.” He sounded hopeful. “We’ll be happy here.” So hopeful, and pure that it hurt. “I’m here, doll. It’s okay.”
You couldn’t help but kiss him. Bucky kissed you back ferociously, like he’d held back all those times before, but now he no longer could. His hands wandered, pulling your dress up quickly as he knelt in front of you before you could even process it.
He pressed his lips to your inner thighs, kissing you wherever he could as his fingers lowered your underwear down to your ankles. You stepped out of it as his mouth got closer and closer to your dripping core.
“Bucky…” You sighed, as you felt his breath against your wet folds. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft hair, as he brought his mouth over to your clit, sucking on it hard enough to make you squirm in pleasure, your back digging into the stone wall of the alcove.
His tongue slid up and down your folds, teasing your entrance, occasionally flicking your clit. “So fucking good,” He whispered, hands caressing and groping your thighs as he ate you out. His tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit.
He parted your legs further as he slowly brought a metal finger up to your clit, watching it sliding agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds.
You shivered under his cold touch, then bit your lip to refrain from moaning too loudly. You sighed, then gasped audibly as he slid a metal finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit. “Please…” You begged, wanting more.
Lips brushing against your wetness he asked, “Will you promise to stay here with me? Forever?” He growled as you kept whining and squirming under his addicting touch, “Answer me.”
“Yes…” You whispered, breathless and wanting. “Yes, I will.” You moaned.
He smirked against your wet skin before standing back up, enjoying the way you whined in protest. “You’re mine.” He said.
You whined again, “Bucky, please…”
He chuckled and undid his pants before picking you up and kissing you deeply as he pinned you to the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist and his cock briefly brushed against your wet folds, making you shiver at the brief contact.
You couldn’t take the teasing anymore. Moaning into the kiss you said, “Bucky please,” You begged, “I need you. I need you… please.” You whispered.
Bucky kissed down your neck, peppering it with kisses as he aligned his throbbing tip with your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself into you. His fingers digging into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours holding on to his shoulders as he filled you up nicely.
“This is all you wanted? Hmm?” He groaned, moving just the slightest bit. “You’re so perfect, baby.”
He held you up against him as he sped up into you. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and mumbled, “You’ll always be mine.” He growled, “And we’ll be happy forever here.”
Behind him, just beyond the shelter of the alcove, the rain was getting heavier. Louder. But with your heartbeats echoing in your ears you could barely focus on it.
You whined just a little louder this time and his mouth soon found yours again. He nibbled on your bottom lip and you let out shaky breaths as he kept fucking into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls perfectly.
Bucky nibbled on the skin under your ear and you lost it. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was his body and his cock inside of you.
You whimpered, “Can I please come?”
“Go on, baby.” He mumbled softly against your skin while he fucked you like an animal, “Come all over my cock,” He spoke, fucking you harder and deeper.
Your throbbing clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you and it was hard to even think coherently.
He quickened his pace, whispering, “Mine… ” in your ear as he pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the stone wall with each thrust.
You could hear the sounds of your skin slapping against each other over the heavy rain. Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace, now pounding into you mercilessly.
“Come for me, doll.”
You couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock, whining and whimpering. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching down his neck and a strained moan escaping your mouth as you came hard. More tears streaming down your face.
He came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, moaning into your ear when he felt your walls clenching violently around him.
He didn’t pull out immediately. He just kept his cock carefully buried in you. He relished your warmth and leaned in to kiss you again, passionately, much more gentle than before. “I’ve got you,” He murmured. “You’re safe with me.”
The epiphany of it all made you unable to stand on your two feet for too long. You briefly remembered Bucky carrying you all the way out of the maze, into the house and up the stairs.
You fully came back to your own body only after Bucky had submerged you in a warm bath. With him seated behind you and caressing your spent body.
“Are you okay, doll?”
You nodded, sitting with your back to his chest. “I’m okay.” You whispered.
Bucky’s hand rubbed your back in a soothing way that had you sighing in bliss. Then he said, “I’ll take you somewhere nice tomorrow.”
You smiled with your eyes closed, leaning into his touch. “Where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“How many more secrets have you kept from me?”
He chuckled. “Enough that it would take you a lifetime to uncover them all.”
“You have a lot of faith in the durability of this relationship.” You teased.
“Hmm, I do.” He sighed as he left soft kisses all over the side of your face. Outside the rain was getting harsh and loud again. But here, everything was warm and perfect. “You can’t run from me.” He teased.
Couldn’t you? You sighed. Did you even want to anymore?
Maybe you would end up finding comfort in the darkness with him. In the familiarity of his arms. In the warmth of his touch and smiles. Hell, maybe you’d be willing to take the serum one day. But all that for later, being here was all that mattered right now.
You leaned your head back onto his shoulder, back pressing against his chest as you let him hold you.
A lifetime… yeah that didn’t sound too bad.
Bucky kissed your forehead as you leaned your head back, resting it on his shoulder. Safe, satisfied, and in his arms. He often dreamed of this. He kissed your forehead again as he smiled. He knew what you must be thinking about. He could almost hear it.
He knew you were having a slight hard time accepting all this, choosing it. The guilt would go away in time. He would do whatever it takes to help you adjust to your new life. And everything would be perfect then.
There was a small voice in his head that told him that he shouldn’t ignore the possibility that this could be a ruse. That you were playing along, trying to earn his trust, waiting for him to have his guard down so you could run from here.
Bucky smirked as he leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, his arms firm around you as you both soaked in the last few moments of the warm water before it got cold.
He wasn’t stupid, and you were a very smart woman, so of course he’d thought about that possibility. And though he knew the chances of this being true were very slim, he couldn’t just sit and wait. Could he? That’s why he took all the precautions he could beforehand.
He made sure, even if you were to leave him and run back to what used to be your ‘normal’ lives, that there was nothing left for you to go back to.
There was no one left. Another secret of his, tucked away.
But he would always be here for you. Bucky turned his head and kissed your forehead again. He vowed to love you enough that, like the maidens in the myths, you’d never want to leave his maze either.
Fin.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes au#bucky x reader#bucky barnes smut#marvel#avenger!reader
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Ask Compilation: Blondes, feet, bowl-cut guardian lady.
He did not, they never had sex. But he was in love with her.
For sure. I think she struck him more like a teenager with the black hair and bangs, after the change (both visual and in attitude) she became a far more mature AND attractive person in his eyes.
PFFT, well, if you're saying they meet ALL of the criteria, I assume you mean both in looks and personality and hence be damn near his soulmate. DU drow could overlook weird feet (and a lot of other things, actually) if he were in love with the person in question. He would probably gently request they take better care of them, though.
Nothing special there, I'm afraid! He just has human-like skin - perhaps a little on the oily side but completely within the bounds of normality.
He runs a little hot, if that's anything. Oh! His hair is shockingly soft.
Correct! DU drow only (arguably) looks like a drow. He doesn't have their usual bone structure, height, or associated magical proclivities. He has some dark vision but its nowhere near as good as a drow's either.
I don't necessarily think all Bhaalspawn are the same way, but the Dark Urge IS quite different from the previous game's iterations. DU isn't simply Bhaal's child conceived with a partner, he's a piece of the god that supposedly slobbed off and grew legs and a face, pretty much. So yes, I do think that the Dark Urge at least is it's own unique thing.
The reason why he looks like a drow, is because he was placed in the Underdark upon creation. The metaphor I always use here is that if you place something infantile in a biome that is alien to it, it may try to adapt to it's environment to survive as it develops, to different degrees of success. This is why DU drow looks the way he does.
[MORE UNDER THE CUT]
You're welcome!
I've received a few snippets here that you can find through the #gift art tag! There is also the fic I'm in the process of writing called A Novel Experience on AO3.
It was just something I was compelled to do when I first drew him! The facial scars felt like they should lead into something else so I just made up a pattern on the spot, minus a tiny tweak here or there, it has stuck basically unchanged. All and any lore relating to the scars came later.
I get a lot of sweet messages but "thanks for your man's penis size" has to be one of my favorites. Thank you!
HELLO!
Thank you so much for the kind message! And that sounds like a fun dream, I love that your Tav got jealous of the attention ASTARION was receiving instead of mad that he had to share in the first place LOL
DU drow is desperately monogamous. He doesn't care what other people do with their lives but he's very much a "one and done" kind of person.
He would be willingly to participate in a threeway/have group sex with a partner, assuming the rules and regulations of said encounter were laid out clearly before or at least mutually understood between them. He would never want to see these people again after the fact though.
She does not, naturally I had no idea that this character was going to turn into anything when i made him, so I just... Made a lady. And since she was supposed to be a "guardian" I gave her a Joan of Arc type of look.
I've occasionally thought about changing this, but... Y'know, sometimes you don't need lore to be that in-depth, LOL.
The emperor gave everyone else a nondescript hottie he assumed they would trust, DU drow just got the same treatment. She's not even DU drow's type but definitely someone he would be compelled to take seriously yet not feel threatened by - so ultimately, her design does make sense.
---
That's all I have the energy for tonight folks, as always thank you for the many encouraging and sweet messages you send me, I'm sorry I can't reply to all of them! 😭
Have yourselves a great week!
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Conversations with a younger colleague about I/P conflict
In my department there is a grad student who is friendly with myself and a few others of the openly nerdy ecologists. We actively talk about anime, video games, TTRPGs, etc... We've also all collaborated on research together because we generally study the same thing, and being a grad student we are also letting them helm their own research to carve their own path. The research topic that links all of us is decomposition ecology.
Meaning, we study death, how it effects the environment, and all the things having to do with it. Often we have our own terms that we define and use, but we also work within the framework of various medical and legal definitions nationally and internationally. Recently this student has been talking to me about the I/P conflict because it has dominated their social media feed. Like many young adults, this is their first I/P conflict and their first exposure to anything regarding that region. As such, they have come to me to talk about things knowing that I am Jewish. Not out of maliciousness, but because I am the only person they talk to that has any sort of connection to it. Over these past months they have repeated the "genocide/Holocaust" rhetoric that we have seen Western Activists use to make the conflict the Worst Thing Ever. Our conversation went as follows: GS: I can't believe they're committing a Holocaust on them after what they went through. Me: How is it a Holocaust? GS: They're committing a genocide against the Palestinians. Me: They're not doing either one, but let's touch upon the first thing you said. How? GS: They're killing them in large numbers! Me: Oh...oh...that's not what made the Holocaust the Holocaust, you know that right? It was years of systematic dehumanization that culminated in what we know. There were death camps, torture, experimentation, and so much more than simple "killing in large numbers". GS: Damn public school education... Me: You didn't really go over it too much did you? GS: WWII was, like, a week I want to say. Me: *sigh* yeah, not surprised at all. GS: Okay, so a genocide then? Me: GS, what do we study? GS: Decomp Me: and that involves? GS: Death Me: One avenue of which is mass casualty events which a number of our friends have published on. GS: Yeah! I read those papers, they were really good. Me: They were, but do you remember conversations we had about them and what differentiates mass casualty events from one another? GS: Cause? Me: And...? GS: Shit. Intent. Me: Exactly. Has their been an official stated intent to commit any genocide? I mean, you've got the bigots in the government like Ben Givir and the shit they say, I'll give you that. But has the official stance been genocidal? GS: No. I don't think so. Me: What has it been? GS: To get the hostages back and get rid of Hamas. Me: Uh huh, and what has been Hamas's stated intent? GS: To kill Zionists. Me: And before 2017 when they changed the wording in their charter? GS: ah fuck...it's Jews isn't it? Me: Ding ding ding. GS: So that's why no one in the group has said it's a genocide... Me: Correct. Humanitarian crisis brought about by war? Yes. Mass casualty event? Certainly. But genocide? Well, there's a reason no one in our circle has endorsed the term. And remember, we're considered experts on death. GS: I got puppeted didn't I? Me: Yep. GS: Shit. The only reason this went so well is due to our friendship and mentor/mentee dynamic. They already trust me to not lead them astray, be informed, and address the holes in their knowledge. Hell, they help me be a better scientist as well with how they bring in new and novel techniques that I didn't know. But they're still getting a lot of their info from TikTok and IG, and they've talked about a lot of BS from those two particular apps these past few years. This is just the latest (they had a TikTok induced anti-GMO trend for a while, it was bad).
#jumblr#misinformation#I/P misinformation#Correct terminology#Death experts#Seriously - we have a precise definition for genocide and this ain't it
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HAPPY NEW YEAR. Here’s some fic recs.
Just An Excellent Fucking Fella by Shearwater - Everyone and their brother has seen Constellationism. But have you read innkeeper Jeff role play by the same author? Hop to it.
Stolen by the Gentleman Thief by @elapsed-spiral - suggested if you’ve ever earnestly enjoyed or gotten a cackle at dime romance novels. They meet because Stede is plastic-wrapped to a light pole. I fucking love this fic.
West Ham Is For Lovers by @elapsed-spiral - Also love this one. Lucius is like trying to get Ed and Stede to meet. Idk how to sell it without giving away The Twist as the summary says. Just trust me
Roach vs. Rabbit by @xoxoemynn - shocked and appalled that this doesn’t have more hits. It’s bunnicula. C’mon it’s bunnicula.
The Crew Dines Out by wellwhisky - this one is incomplete but works on its own. Based on The Gang Dines Out from iasip. This shit is soooooooo funny it’s sooooooooo funny. Oh my god it’s funny as balls
soup by @margaritaville - it’s just so sweet. Ed and Stede sound so Ed and Stedey here. It’s so sweet. ITS SO SWEET
that same look in your eyes series by @margaritaville - I usually hate time travel fics but Sam changed my mind. Did you all know Ed and Stede are madly in love? Were u aware???
Even in the Dark, I'm Glowing by @petrichorca @veeagainsttheday and ThatJadeykinns - monsterfucking 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️ what more do you need??? Click the damn link
Mile High Club by @veeagainsttheday - I’m sure everyone seeing this has read this but I don’t care I don’t CARE rAAAGGHHH [blows up a building bc this fic is so good]
Anyway happy new year go leave these people comments. Tell them u appreciate their art and time. Leave a series of emojis. I’m so serious if u read any of these n like em you better tell these ppl. Tell em Jay sent u. (You don’t have to do that last bit)
#ofmd fanfic#fic rec#gentlebeard#blackbonnet#ofmd#I just stopped bc I got bored also my blood sugar is low.#anyone who I scream at that didn’t appear on this list. well. let’s just say#jay has low blood sugar and can barely remember their own name 🙂↕️
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This is random, but, could I request the bachelors (+sve guys) discovering the farmer's like, half vampire (dhampir) but hates having to feed on prey, but they biologically need to and are starving and need to snack on a person, but can't bring themselves to do it for whatever reason.
Or is that a bit too morbid for this blog?
Anyway, cheers op ✌️
I don't think this question is too morbid, dear anon, as I have previously posted on more grimmer topics such as *checking my masterlist* the reaction to children turning into pigeons, the reaction to Farmer's death and them as the walking dead in Crimson Baldlans- you get the point. So yeah, thanks for the ask, and enjoy ☺️💕
_________________________________________
SDV/SVE bachelors discover that Farmer is a dhampir and refuses to feed on blood:
Stardew Valley:
Alex:
Alex has been slipping Farmer his grandmother's baked goods for about a month now, just so they'll have something to eat! Skinny as a twig...
But once the athlete found out the truth... Now it's clear why his friend was refusing - they can only drink human blood. Isn't that right? He doesn't know the thing about vampires and stuff.
But Farmer will die without blood, and that's not allowed! Alex urges them to drink some of his blood so they don't faint from starvation.
And then he promises to work something out so that Farmer can eat normally and not feeling guilty.
Sebastian:
While Farmer was telling him about his origins, Sebastian stood still, fascinated by such news. His friend is half vampire, that's... pretty cool.
But quickly came out of his state of admiration when he heard from Farmer their refusal to feed on blood, not wanting to harm humans and animals. That's what the local emo was worried about.
It's good that Farmer is kind, but this refusal to eat could conversely drive them into a wild obsession with blood, where they'll attack every person they meet.
Sebby is willing to lend a helping hand while he looks for some alternative way of feeding. Yeah, that's right, Farmer. You need to drink. Don't argue.
Shane:
Huh, nice joke, he almost believes Farmer. ...It's a joke, right? Tell him it's just a dumb joke. Sigh, fuck...
What's Shane gonna do with Farmer now? A dhampir (or whatever it's called) refuses to drink blood and slowly dies.
He doesn't care what they think, they need to eat! He doesn't want to lose a friend.
Okay, look. Shane thinks Farmer should feed on him for now. Don't fucking look at him like that! They need food! Let's keep it that way for now, and then he'll find some alternative for Farmer.
Harvey:
Although the very information about Farmer's origins clearly shocked Harvey, he still doesn't feel anxious or afraid around them.
But denying your body food is a very bad idea. The doctor realises that Farmer has no desire to hurt anyone, but torturing themselves isn't an option either.
Hmm, how about a blood donation? If he donates blood in the bag, would that be a good alternative?
Or just let Farmer bite him in the neck right away? No, Harvey's not afraid of them and we trust them. Please, listen to him, Farmer. He's trying to help you. And everything's gonna be all right.
Sam:
Wow, Farmer really is half vampire?! That's awesome! Although... They look skinny and sickly, so maybe it's not so cool after all.
Man, you can't starve yourself! Isn't there any way to feed Farmer without hurting anyone?
Sammy scoured every forum on the internet to find useful information. There was nothing but descriptions in fictional universes (Damn...).
So the young guitarist held out his hand to them with one word, "Bite." Farmer is outraged, but Sam stands firm on his decision because he doesn't want his friend to starve to death.
Elliott:
So many novels and stories had been written about vampires, but Elliott had always thought it was fiction... Farmer disproved it by their mere existence.
Though the writer was burrowing with the urge to shower Farmer with questions about the life of a half-blood vampire and everything, their weakness was unsettling.
Abandoning blood drinking in the name of not wanting to harm living creatures? Noble, but no creature would last long without food, Elliott though, even non-humans.
So Elliott unbuttons his shirt collar in one fell swoop and dramatically cries out "Bite me!". Um, well, a little dramatic.
Stardew Valley Expanded:
Victor:
Victor nearly collapsed to the floor from the information he was being bombarded with. So Farmer's.... not human?
The spaghetti lover is certainly glad his friend isn't going to eat him, but... Starving themselves won't do any good either!
Farmer's looking pretty thin and pale back then, and they're clearly getting worse by the day due to their refusal to hunt and drink blood.
Victor will immediately begin a search for an alternative feeder for vampires and dhampires and while they search for an answer - Farmer can taste his blood. He's a little scared, but he won't leave his friend in the in trouble.
Magnus Rasmodius:
Magnus is surprised. No, not that vampires and dhampir existed, but that Farmer had managed to hide their origins from the wizard's keen eye. Usually he can see right through those who aren't human...
Well, since they have such a problem with blood, he will quickly organise food for them. There are people who volunteer to donate blood and-
No, don't even dare protest, Farmer! They realise that by refusing to eat naturally they are putting others in even greater danger! Do they know what vampires and dhampires are capable of when they're insane with hunger?!
That's right. Now, Magnus will continue to contact his colleagues to provide Farmer with help. No buts.
Lance:
Vampires are creatures not new to mages and adventurers, and exist quite peacefully with each other. That's why Lance wasn't surprised after Farmer revealed the truth to him.
But the adventurer's face was clearly concerned about Farmer's condition, for starving was a very bad idea, even if their motive was noble.
Until he finds someone among his colleagues who is a blood donor for peaceful vampires (yes, such a thing exists in Castle Village), the pink-haired man will make a cut on his hand with a dagger and give food to Farmer.
"Please don't argue, my friend. Because hunger will drive you mad.."
#stardew valley#sdv#stardew valley expanded#sve#sdv shane#sdv elliott#sdv alex#sdv sam#sdv sebastian#sdv harvey#sve victor#sve lance#sdv wizard#sve magnus#magnus rasmodius#sdv headcanons#svw headcanons#thanks for the ask!
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BALCONY BLUES || D.F. x reader
summary: you and dominic are neighbors. you like to read books on your balcony, he likes to smoke cigarettes. you like quiet nights in, he likes to throw parties. but, as they say... opposites attract.
there's a little more than just neighborly affection brewing.
word count: 4.6k (damn)
me when i sit on my balcony and daydream....... that's how this story was born. and honestly i love it it's so cute. oh, to have a dominic fike stare at me from his balcony. anyways, enjoy! i only have like two more requests to do, so pls feel free to send moreeee <3
When you moved to California, you were looking forward to the quiet. Your apartment was modest, tucked into a complex that overlooked the ocean, with a small balcony you’d already claimed as your reading spot.
You’d imagined peaceful weekends spent with a book and the distant crash of waves.
It was exactly what you’d hoped for—except for one small complication: your neighbor, Dominic.
He was the opposite of what you were aiming for with your calm, coastal move. He had this habit of throwing loud parties every weekend, the music thumping through the walls and spilling out onto his balcony, the place he seemed to live when he was home.
You noticed him on your first day, leaned back against the railing, a cigarette in hand, looking every bit like he owned the place.
And while you were trying your best to ignore him, you couldn’t quite deny the strange spark of interest you felt every time he looked your way.
The two of you didn’t speak at first, not beyond the nods and the polite “hey” when you’d cross paths. Still, you felt his presence, especially in the evenings when you’d be on your balcony, tucked into a chair with your latest book, and he’d be out there too, leaning over the railing and occasionally glancing over.
He didn’t try to hide it either.
Dominic looked at you openly, sometimes with the faintest hint of a smirk, like he was waiting for you to call him out. But you never did.
You just kept reading, determined not to give him the satisfaction.
One night, when his usual party music pulsed into your living room, you sighed and headed out to your balcony, hoping for a quiet escape.
But of course, there he was, leaning against the railing, cigarette dangling from his fingers, his eyes catching yours the moment you stepped outside.
"Well, hello, new neighbor," he said, flashing a grin. "What brings you to our quiet little paradise?"
You looked around, taking in the party remnants still strewn across his balcony—a few empty bottles, a speaker, a crumpled shirt tossed over a chair. The place screamed not quiet. You quirked a brow, a little smirk forming.
"Quiet, huh?"
He laughed, unbothered by the observation. "What, you don’t like a little excitement?"
"Excitement’s fine. But I’m more of a ‘book and movie’ person than a ‘dancing til' midnight’ one," you replied, holding up the novel you’d brought out with you.
He leaned on the railing, flicking ash from his cigarette, clearly intrigued. "Let me guess, you’re one of those mysterious types, huh? All books, all quiet moments." He nodded toward your book, lips twisting into a teasing smile. "How romantic."
You rolled your eyes. "And you’re what? The loud, overconfident neighbor I have to put up with?"
He held his hands up, feigning innocence. "Hey, don’t judge me yet. I’ve been known to read, too, you know. Once or twice."
“Oh really?” you shot back, holding back a laugh. “What’s the last book you read?”
He laughed again, a little sheepish. “Alright, maybe it’s been a while. But if you’re up for sharing, maybe I could get into reading again.”
You scoffed. “I’d bet you’d fall asleep halfway through.”
“That a challenge?” His eyebrows lifted playfully. “Because I don’t back down from those. Trust me, new neighbor.”
—
From that night on, you fell into a routine.
Most evenings, you’d come out with a book, and like clockwork, Dominic would make his way onto his balcony too. Sometimes he’d chat with you, other times he’d just sit there, stealing glances when he thought you weren’t looking.
And little by little, you found yourself looking forward to those evenings—the way his voice drifted over, soft in the night air, and the way his laughter made your pulse quicken just a bit.
His weekend parties became something you learned to live with, even if they did get under your skin sometimes.
But every now and then, in the middle of a particularly loud song or a burst of laughter from his friends, you’d catch him looking at you across the balcony, like he was daring you to join in.
—
Then one afternoon, you were lost in a book on your balcony when you heard a knock at your door. Surprised, you opened it to find Dominic standing there, hands in his pockets, an easy smile on his face.
“I noticed you’re not at your usual spot,” he said, nodding toward his own balcony. “Figured you might be taking a break from the whole… ‘reading alone’ thing.”
“Maybe,” you replied, crossing your arms. “And you decided to do what? Invite me to a party?”
He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Actually, no. I was thinking of taking a walk down by the beach. Thought you might want to come along.”
You hesitated. He could be loud and a little obnoxious, and part of you still wanted that peaceful, book-filled weekend. But there was another part of you—a part that was curious, intrigued by the casual confidence with which he invited you out.
“Alright,” you said, trying not to smile too widely. “A walk. But if you bring out the speakers, I’m going back inside.”
He grinned, a spark of surprise in his eyes as he stepped back to let you grab your jacket. The walk to the beach was quiet, the two of you falling into a rhythm as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
The silence was nice, comfortable in a way that you hadn’t expected, and by the time you reached the water, you found yourself relaxing around him.
“This is your spot, isn’t it?” he said, nodding toward the waves.
You glanced at him, surprised. “What makes you think that?”
“I’ve seen you down here a few times,” he admitted, his gaze steady, his tone quieter than usual. “You look… at home here.”
“Guess I do,” you said, shrugging. “I moved here for the quiet. Thought California would be, I don’t know… peaceful.”
He laughed. “… And then you got me as a neighbor. Must feel like a curse sometimes.”
“Sometimes,” you teased, though your smile softened as he looked at you. “But… maybe not all the time.”
The moment stretched out, your heart fluttering as his gaze held yours.
He was different in this quiet, sunset-lit setting, his usual confidence tempered by something softer, more thoughtful. And for the first time, you felt like you were seeing him—really seeing him—beyond the parties and the noise.
From that day on, the dynamic between you shifted.
He’d come out onto his balcony when you were reading, asking about your latest book or bringing you coffee on lazy Sunday mornings. Sometimes you’d go for another walk along the shore, talking about everything and nothing as the sun set around you.
The weeks slipped by, and soon enough, you were finding reasons to spend more and more time with him.
He’d come over for impromptu dinners, always bringing some wild story or teasing comment. Sometimes, you’d even venture onto his balcony, sitting with him in the aftermath of his parties, listening to him ramble about his friends or music or whatever he was passionate about that night.
—
Dominic had a way of showing up unannounced, and you never minded.
His knock on the door was always followed by that grin of his—half apologetic, half mischievous—like he’d just had an idea to make the night more interesting.
And every time, you’d find yourself saying yes to whatever spontaneous plan he had, even if it was just an impromptu dinner.
He was leaning against your doorframe when you opened it one evening, a takeout bag in hand, his eyes alight with excitement.
“Hey, I brought Chinese. And I have a crazy story about Reed at the bar last night, and I swear he’s convinced he’s been haunted by a ghost for three days. It’s a mess."
You laughed, stepping aside to let him in. "You’re really the only person I know who could make a simple dinner into an event."
"That’s because I’m here for the drama," he said with a wink, strolling into your apartment as if it was his second home, which, at this point, it practically was.
Dinner was a laid-back affair, the two of you perched on the couch, tossing back takeout containers and halfheartedly watching a movie you weren’t really paying attention to.
Most of the time, it was like that with Dominic—more about the company than the activity.
You barely noticed when the food ran out or the movie ended. You were too caught up in his stories, his hands gesturing wildly as he described whatever outrageous thing had happened to him that day.
At one point, you had to pause him mid-story. "Wait," you interrupted, smirking. "You’re telling me Reed thinks a ghost followed him home from a Halloween party last year?"
He nodded, eyes wide with mock seriousness. "He was practically in tears. I swear, he won’t leave his apartment alone now. I had to convince him the ghost probably has better things to do than haunt a guy who wears socks with sandals."
You burst into laughter, and Dominic joined in, his carefree chuckle filling the room like it always did.
The next few minutes passed in comfortable silence, with only the sound of music softly playing from the speakers.
You leaned back on the couch, your feet tucked underneath you, and found yourself staring at Dominic.
It wasn’t the first time you’d noticed how effortlessly attractive he was, but tonight, it hit you in a different way. His scruffy hair was falling into his eyes, and his lips—those damn lips—had a playful smirk that made you wonder how you hadn’t kissed him yet.
But you couldn't quite figure out why you hadn’t. It was complicated, like everything with Dominic always seemed to be.
You cleared your throat, brushing away the thought.
"You know," you said, pulling your legs up onto the couch, "I didn’t expect you to be one for spontaneous dinners. I thought you were more of the ‘grab a burger on the way home’ kind of guy."
Dominic grinned, stretching his arm along the back of the couch casually. "I am," he said, "but sometimes it's nice to get out of my own head. And when I can’t convince my friends to have dinner with me, I come to you." His gaze softened for a moment, and his voice dropped slightly. "You’re the only person who doesn’t look at me like I’m the chaos walking through the door."
Your heart did a little flip at his words. "I like the chaos," you replied, your voice quieter than before.
Dominic tilted his head, studying you with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper, something he didn’t usually let slip in front of others.
But before either of you could say anything more, he pushed up from the couch, grabbing his jacket and the empty food containers.
"I think I’m gonna head to my balcony," he said casually, giving you a sideways glance. "Wanna join? It's not exactly a party, but... it's the best view in the building."
You nodded, feeling an involuntary smile tug at your lips. "Yeah, sure. I’ll be out in a second."
The balcony was quieter than usual tonight—no party chaos, no loud music or chattering voices. Just the sound of distant cars and the occasional crash of waves from the beach below.
Dominic leaned against the railing, taking a long drag from his cigarette as he stared out at the city lights. You stood beside him, your arms crossed over your chest, just watching him, feeling that familiar tension settle between you.
"You know," he said suddenly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence, "I love this view. But I think I might like it more when you're out here with me."
His words were soft, genuine, and for a moment, he wasn’t Dominic, the wild party host. He was just a guy, caught in the same quiet moment you were.
You raised an eyebrow, not sure if he was joking or serious, but the look in his eyes was so sincere it made your chest tighten. "You’re full of surprises, you know that?"
He laughed, exhaling a puff of smoke and brushing it aside. "I try to be. Life’s better when you’re unpredictable."
"Yeah, but," you added with a teasing smile, "you’re the only one who doesn’t have a filter. Makes things interesting."
He turned to face you, his posture relaxed but his expression more serious now, as if he was carefully choosing his words. "It’s easy with you. You don’t try to make sense of everything I do. You just let me be... me."
You felt your heart race a little faster, his words hitting somewhere deeper than you expected. You nodded, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his gaze. "I think that's what I like most about you."
The silence stretched between you, but this time it didn’t feel awkward. It felt... right.
Dominic took one last drag from his cigarette and dropped it into the ashtray. Then he took a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours. "I don’t say it much, but I’m glad you’re here," he said softly.
You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. "Me too."
The night stretched on in a haze of quiet conversation and stolen glances.
And as you sat together on his balcony, you knew this wasn’t just another casual hangout—it was something more. Something you weren’t quite ready to label, but couldn’t deny was happening between the two of you.
Slowly, but surely.
—
And then on one Friday, you’d just settled into a new novel when Dominic leaned over, his elbows resting on the railing. "So, big plans for the weekend?" he asked, flashing that familiar smile.
You shrugged. "Same as always. Just me, my book, and TV.”
He feigned shock. "No wild plans? No... secret parties in there?" He nodded toward your apartment, his voice teasing.
"Some of us enjoy a peaceful life," you shot back. "Not everyone throws ragers every Friday night."
"Ouch. You wound me," he said, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. "But, hey, just for the record, tonight’s party’s invitation-only. But I could make an exception."
You laughed, shaking your head. "Sorry to disappoint. I don’t think I’d fit in with your crowd."
"Oh, I don’t know," he said, a twinkle in his eye. "You might surprise yourself."
“I haven’t been to a party in ages, Dom,” You say, watching him spark with even more excitement.
“Perfect! Then you’re coming to mine.”
—
You had no intention of actually attending Dominic's party.
But somehow, your friends that were invited had convinced you to tag along, and now you were here, tucked against a wall in his dimly lit apartment.
Watching the lively crowd fill every corner of his place, music pulsed through the walls, echoing off the high ceilings, and the familiar scent of Dominic’s cologne mingled with the laughter and voices all around.
You were handed three shots of tequila, back to back, and now permanently glued to the corner, away from the chaos.
You hadn’t even expected Dominic to notice you were here, but just as you were starting to wonder where he was, you felt a hand gently press against the small of your back.
You turned, and there he was—his grin wide, his eyes lighting up the moment they met yours.
"Well, look who finally made it to one of my parties," he said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. His voice was low, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. "And here I thought you were all talk about being ‘too quiet’ for nights like this."
You laughed, rolling your eyes. "I’m just here to make sure your guests don’t destroy the building!”
"Oh, so you’re keeping an eye on me, huh?" His hand lingered on your back, his fingers tracing small circles there. His touch was warm, grounding in a way that felt electric and impossible to ignore. "You’re cute when you’re pretending not to have fun."
You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Who says I’m pretending?"
He hands you another shot as he pours himself another one; And from the looks of it, he’s had way more than you.
“Cheers! To… whatever we got going on here,” He says, as you raise the shot glass.
“To whatever we got going on,” The two of you laugh as you feel that god-awful stinging sensation travel down your throat.
“This is the most I’ve drank in a long time!” You giggle, “I forgot how fun this is!”
“Mhm, so maybe you should come to these more often, then.”
“Maybe…” You say as you watch him stare into your eyes and then looking at you, up and down, “Stop staring at me!” You laugh.
He chuckled, slipping his other hand around your waist, pulling you just a little closer. “It’s so hard to not stare you when you look this good.”
Your face flushed under his gaze, the teasing glint in his eye sending a shiver through you.
“I thought you wouldn’t even notice my existence at these things,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant even as your pulse quickened.
“Oh, trust me. I always notice you,” he murmured, his voice lower now, meant just for you. His eyes were intense, his gaze tracing your face, lingering on your lips before he met your eyes again. “And tonight? You’re making it really hard not to.”
You swallowed, suddenly aware of the minimal space between you and Dominic.
It was thrilling, that tension lingering in the air, as if the two of you were the only people in the room. And then he leaned closer, his voice a soft murmur near your ear.
"Can I get you another drink? Or would that just give me another excuse to stay by your side?"
You smiled, tilting your head to look at him. "Maybe that’s what I was hoping for."
A look of surprise flickered across his face, and then his lips pulled into a smirk, clearly delighted by your response.
He didn’t move away as his hand slid down to rest at your waist, his thumb brushing against your hip. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’ll show you a good time.”
Your eyes met his, daring him. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Something shifted in his expression then, a flicker of heat, of something more.
His hand on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel his warmth seeping into you.
The room, the crowd, everything else seemed to fade into the background as he looked down at you, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile that was equal parts flirtatious and dangerous.
He dipped his head, brushing his lips close to your ear. “You know, I was starting to think you’d never come to one of these,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “But now that you’re here… I don’t think I’ll let you out of my sight.”
You let out a breathy laugh, trying to keep your cool despite the way he was looking at you. “I thought you had a hundred guests to entertain.”
“Oh, I do.” He flashed you a grin, leaning in closer. “But none of them are you.”
His hands slipped around your waist, guiding you into the flow of the party.
He kept you close, weaving through the crowd with a protective edge, and you couldn’t help but notice the way other people glanced over, curiosity and maybe even a little envy in their eyes.
Dominic, however, didn’t seem to care about anyone else—he only had eyes for you.
He led you out to the balcony, where the cool night air hit your skin and gave you both a moment to breathe. He leaned against the railing, his gaze never leaving you as you looked out at the city lights.
You turned to face him, realizing how close you still were. He didn’t back up, didn’t pull away.
His hand brushed your cheek, and there was something softer in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat.
"You truly are full of surprises, you know that?" he murmured, his thumb tracing lightly over your cheekbone.
"I could say— have said— the same about you," you whispered, your voice barely audible, caught between a smile and something more. The playful banter was gone now, replaced by a feeling that felt so much heavier, more real.
He tilted his head, his gaze dropping to your lips, and then, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and soft, yet brimming with restrained intensity.
His hand slipped around to the back of your neck, holding you close, and you melted into him, your fingers curling into his shirt as he deepened the kiss, each moment igniting something new between you.
When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath, his hand still tangled in your hair.
"I knew this would be bad for me,” he murmured, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You laughed softly, brushing your fingers over his chest. "Then why did you invite me?"
"Because I like you too much to watch you from a distance,” he whispered, his voice warm with laughter as he brought you close again, kissing you with a hunger that felt like the beginning of something neither of you could deny anymore.
The kiss lingered between you, each soft press of his lips against yours a reminder of how close you had become, how suddenly everything seemed to shift.
Your heart pounded in your chest, the noise of the party still thumping faintly in the distance, but here, in this quiet moment on the balcony, it was as though time had stopped.
Dominic pulled back slightly, his breath warm on your lips as he whispered, "I didn’t expect this to happen tonight… but I’m not complaining."
You blinked up at him, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "Neither am I," you murmured, your voice almost a breathless laugh.
He ran his thumb gently over your lower lip, his eyes studying you with that mix of curiosity and desire that made your pulse race again. "You know, I think I’ve been waiting for this longer than I realized."
You tilted your head, searching his gaze for any sign of hesitation, but there was none. Just raw, unfiltered honesty. "For me?" you asked, not fully believing it.
His smile was small but undeniably sincere. "Yeah. You’ve always had a way of keeping me on my toes," he admitted. His hand slid down to yours, intertwining your fingers with his. "I’ve wanted to see what would happen if we were ever this close."
And there it was—he hadn’t been hiding anything, hadn’t been pretending. There was no act, no facade; it was just the two of you, standing on a balcony, the weight of everything unspoken hanging in the air.
"I didn’t think you’d want to be this close," you replied quietly, your thumb tracing the lines of his hand.
"Why’s that?" His brow furrowed slightly, and there was a hint of playful challenge in his tone.
You shrugged, feeling the vulnerability of the moment. "You’re Dominic. You’re cool and you throw these annoying parties. You don’t seem like the type to chase something… real."
He gave a soft laugh, pulling you just a little closer, his body brushing against yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. "And what does that mean? You think I’m just some guy who doesn’t know what he wants?"
Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the teasing disappeared, replaced by something more earnest. "No. I just think you’re used to people coming onto you, not the other way around."
Dominic’s gaze softened, and he let out a quiet sigh. "Maybe I’m not as good at playing it cool as I want everyone to think."
You raised an eyebrow at that. "So what does that make me? Your secret weakness?"
He grinned, the playful edge returning to his voice. "Maybe. But if I’m being honest, I think it’s more than that."
The way he said it, with so much confidence, made your chest tighten.
There was something about him tonight, something different from the confident, aloof Dominic everyone else saw. In this moment, he was just a guy, a guy who wanted something from you, something more than just the usual game he played.
"Do you want to go back inside?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You didn’t know why, but the thought of being back in the crowded apartment suddenly felt less appealing, the contrast between the chaotic party and the quiet intimacy of the moment stark.
Dominic’s lips quirked into a half-smile, the heat in his gaze never leaving you. "I think I’d rather stay out here… unless you want to change your mind."
"No," you said quickly, shaking your head. "I’m more than fine out here."
He leaned in again, pressing his forehead against yours, and for a moment, the only sound was the quiet rustle of the night air and the distant murmur of the party.
"Good," he said softly. "Because I’m not done with you yet."
You felt your heart skip a beat, not from fear, but from something that was beginning to feel like anticipation, something that held more weight than just the chemistry between you.
Maybe it wasn’t just the kiss or the way his touch made you feel, but the realization that something was beginning to take root here, between you and him.
Dominic's hand still rested against your waist, his thumb lightly grazing your skin as he studied you. "You know, I’m not usually this... honest. But with you, I can’t help it."
You looked up at him, your gaze softening. "Maybe I’m starting to feel the same way."
He smiled, a slow, satisfied curve of his lips. "I’m glad. Because I think we’ve both been pretending long enough."
You laughed lightly, unable to hide the way your heart was racing. "Pretending, huh? Well, now that we’ve admitted it, what do we do next?"
Dominic’s eyes darkened slightly, a shift in his demeanor as he tilted his head, his gaze lingering on your lips again. "Next? We stop pretending."
And with that, he kissed you again, deeper this time, with none of the hesitations or uncertainties that had been there before.
The world outside the balcony faded completely, and all you could feel was the heat of his kiss, the press of his body against yours, and the undeniable pull between you two.
It was clear now—there was no turning back.
The night, the party, the teasing, the banter… it was all just a prelude to this. To the moment when everything shifted and you both let go of the distance you’d been keeping between you.
Dominic pulled away just enough to look at you, a grin playing at the corner of his mouth. "You’re trouble," he murmured.
"Right back at you," you replied, your voice breathless, your heart still racing.
He laughed softly, and for the first time that night, it wasn’t just a playful sound—it was full of something real, something meaningful.
The rest of the world could wait.
#dominic fike#euphoria#dominic fike fan fiction#dom fike#elliot euphoria#dominic fike imagines#dominic fike x reader#my writing#dominic fike x you#fanfiction#fiction#fanfic#writers on tumblr#writing#requests open
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Finished up my attempt at Deuce within @where-does-the-heart-lie's fighting game AU! Feeling a little iffy about it but I might've just been staring at this for too damn long. Anyways thoughts, symbolism explanation, and sketches I made in the attempt bellow the cut.
Okay! So in general I worked with a rule of 2's when it came to Deuce's hearts with the exception of his camera, but that's supposed to pair with the pen with the little heart cap, I just didn't remember to keep that in my final drawings somewhere. Trying to strike a balance between "Just a guy" and "fun stylized outfit" was hard and I don't think I quite got it, but it was enjoyable nonetheless!
Heart glasses- Representative of how he loves observing the world and aspires to adventure through it. The cracked lens represents how the damage he's received from people he loved has caused him to look at others cynically at times. Meanwhile the unshattered lens sort of represents his tendency to look at those who earn his love with extreme levels of internal praise, half of Ace's first novel is just him waxing poetic about how lovely Ace is and I think that's hilarious.
Hearts on the gloves- He shows his love for the world and for people through the writing he does with his hands! But they're somewhat damaged because they've been utilized for the medicinal legacy that was forced upon him.
Heart on the camera/pen- A specific love for journalism and writing and telling a story, credits to Whery for the first one.
Spade on the shirt- Not technically a heart but it's a little play on how he keeps the Spades close to his heart/tends to be kind of pokey if you try to get close.
Spade/heart on the back of the shirt- Symbolic of the whole life-devoting love within him, so it's large, but it's kept guarded and tethered by the camera strap and can only be seen beneath a layer and if he trusts you enough to turn his back. It's mostly upside-down to look more like a heart if I'm honest, but that as well as that it's on his back and so guarded is all representative of how the family that he presumably once loved shamed and pressured him, making a sort of "weight on his back". It's spade shaped because that's who his devotion and love belongs to, but also when counted with the other one, Deuce!
One of my scrapped ideas was having the coat be a doctor's coat with the only hearts on it being scorched edges because something something fire set him free but he still uses his medicinal abilities to benefit people in his new life, but I couldn't get it to look right so I went with the summery looking thing he's wearing now. It's fine but it kind of lacks a personality, I think that's the main thing I'd try to revise if I redid this but I've already overthought it to hell so. Another day.
Ace in Dr. Robotnik's outfit from the sonic movie is there for facial reference and emotional support I guess, I made that a while ago.
And in one last vaguely related tangent, yours truly has a very distinctly heart-shaped birthmark on my foot. It symbolizes that I'm tired. (Jokes aside I think it's cool, afab actually stood for Assigned Fighting game character At Birth)
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