Hi! Thanks for wandering into my little garden! (plant shelf? terrarium? idk) I'm 1000Plants, you can call me Plant or whatever works best. I'm really not picky lol.
My pronouns are He/Him, and I write fanfiction!
I don't reblog a whole bunch, but you will see me often in asks and in comments! I like leaving asks... a LOT.
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đżRules/Expectationsđż
Be nice! I'm sensitive lol
I write what I write, so it may be NSFW
THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG!
I have a life outside of writing, I do it for funsies, mistakes are probs gonna happen
đżWhat I Writeđż
Character x Gender neutral or Male readers (very very rarely F Readers)
Honestly, 99% of my work can be read from any genders pov, but are tagged as gn/m.
I write for The Avengers, tho Bucky and Steve for the most part. Which, that's mostly due to my obsession with Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan as actors sooooo
Yet still, I write most any CEvans or SStan character, though I cannot guarantee perfect characterization due do most my knowledge of them being other fics
Basically, it's not incredibly cohesive.
I write what I like, I DO take requests/asks/prompts, so don't be shy :)
You had thought heâd fallen asleep. Over the course of the last few hours, and many corny movies, he had shifted to lay on the couch. And his head happened to lay on your lap. And your hands happened to be combing through his hair.
âMy God, Itâs back!â The actress gasped on the projected screen.
Youâd been fairly invested in the movie, it was one of your favorites, and after spending a while tinkering around with the projector to have it huge against the wall was a plus.
Bucky's hair was soft, a little grown out than his usual style. But, honestly? You weren't complaining. Your nails lightly raked against his scalp before twirling a strand. There was a soft, low rumble coming from Alpine on the other end of the sofa. Glancing down, Bucky's usual dark brown hair was highlighted with the reflected light of the movie, soft whites and a light pink from the 90âs hit.
âWhy don't you have another drink and go to bed?â
His head was on your thighs, his hand cupping your knee and absently rubbing small circles with his thumb. It was a sensation you were hyper aware of, but he switched the spot of his focus often enough to be comforting and not annoying.
Maybe it was silly, but it was why you also were sure to not stay fixated on one area of his hair.
You pulled your hands back only to drag your nails from his hairline to his crown.
âThatâs not going to happen, by God!â - âmmmâ Alpineâs purr could be heard even between the lines, - âThatâs not going to happen.â
You tried to stifle your laugh, craning your head to see where the little puffball was, âAlpâs really enjoying the movie, huh?â
âHm?â Bucky shifted, glancing up at you then briefly around the room, âIs she over here?â
Your brows furrowed. A confused smile replacing your genuine one as you also glanced at the foot of the couch. Your eyes couldnât adjust as quickly as Bucky's did, âIsnât she? Sheâs purring awfully loud.â
At your words you could feel him stiffen before resettling on your lap.
âThatâs, uh, thatâs not Alpine purring,â Bucky clears his throat, an embarrassed sounding chuckle bubbling up from his chest, âI⊠think youâre hearing me.â
âYouâre⊠youâre purring?â You laugh. You nudged up your knee, bouncing his head to get him to sit up and face you, âOn purpose??â
He shook his head while moving to sit up next to you, âNo, you dummy, not on purpose.â
Bucky shrugged, a slightly embarrassed smile stretching across his face as he focused on the movie, âIt just, I dunno, happens. Iâve done it since I was little, drove my Ma and sister mad.â
â-but i just had this feeling inside of me that I couldn't contain-â
âCan you control it?â You asked more, the movie forgotten by you. You leaned forward to catch his gaze, he huffed a laugh and lightly nudged you.
âNo. It happens when I'm comfortable.â He turned his head towards you, fighting an eyeroll at your smug and satisfied grin.
âAnd you said the movie looked boring, Barnes!â
Since I seem to do better when I have a theme for my writing, what should next week's theme be?
Next Week's Theme:
Mafia
Magic
Royal
Ohter (please comment)
Voting ended onJul 17
Mafia: I need to start bringing the Garbage Men to a close. There's also a few dark mafia stories in the Yours series that could use some updates.
Magic: Pretty much just the Blue Roses AU, though the story I'm writing for Siri's birthday bash would also fit here.
Royal: Pretty much everyone in the Royal Vows AU needs an update, but especially Prince Ari so he can get home to help his little brother negotiate the marriage contract!
Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.
Warnings: Angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, regular sexism, explicit language, references to trauma, pregnancy, terrible parents, more en dashes than you would ever believe - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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A/N: Okay. Wait. Listen. Listen. Yes, the angst came back. I couldn't help myself. The story needed it!!! Please don't come after me. I promise everything will be okay!
Huge thanks as always to @paperweight91, who, trust me, has already yelled at me about the angst. But then she encouraged me anyway. You're the best, Chelsea!!
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too! As always, thank you so much for reading! đ
Ransom came home from work to find you leaning on the kitchen island, staring at your darkened phone screen. He picked up Lola from where she was dancing around his feet and carried her over to you. You looked up at him and smiled, but it felt a little strained. Still, you powered through. âHow was your day?â you asked.
âFine,â he said, watching you carefully while he absently pet Lola. âHow was yours? Are you alright?â
You nodded quickly. âIt was fine.â
He immediately raised a brow at that. âYou sure?â he asked with a nod to how tightly you were still gripping your phone.
You forced yourself to let it go, gently setting it on the counter. âMy mom called,â you conceded.
His hand immediately moved from Lola to your back, not moving. Just a steady presence there. âEverything okay?â he asked quietly.
You nodded again. âTheyâreâuh, she and Josephâtheyâre coming here next week. Want to see us.â
âOh. They arenât going to stay with us, are they?â He sounded a little alarmed at the prospect, which made you smile.
âNo, definitely not. Joseph will find the nicest suite in Boston, Iâm sure.â
Ransom gave you a small smile. âA man after my own heart,â he joked.
You couldnât quite join him. âSure,â you shrugged.
His hand on your back became firmer. âWill it be nice,â he asked softly, âto see your mom?â
You took a deep breath. âIs it stupid if I say I miss her?â you asked quietly instead of answering him.
âNo,â he said immediately. Firmly. âI canât relate. But itâs definitely not stupid.â
You finally turned your body to him. âSheâs really excited about the baby. That she gets to be a grandma.â
âThatâs good,â he said, his hand on your back moving to your stomach, seemingly involuntarily. Like a magnet. Thatâs how itâd been for the last couple of weeks. Since youâd kissed. Since youâd talked. Otherwise, not much had changed in how he acted. Kisses when he left in the morning and usually when he got home. Or before he and you parted ways to go to your own bedrooms at night. He was taking things slowly. Presumably following your lead. But his hands. His hands always found you.
âYeah. Maybe.â
âHow long will they be here?â
âReally just a day, I think. They want to have dinner with us. And Joseph wants to set up at least eighteen holes with you.â
Ransomâs hand shrank back from you, a look of horror on his face. âHe wants to golf?!â
You shrugged. âYeah, I guess.â
âWhy?â
âBecause technically youâre his son-in-law. And Iâm sure heâll have some deal or something heâll want to talk over with you too.â
He rolled his eyes. âI fucking hate golf.â
âThatâs fine,â you shrugged. âHeâll expect to win anyway.â
He looked affronted at that. âI didnât say I was bad at it! Just that itâs a stupid way to waste your time.â
You sighed. âWell, can you do it for one afternoon? Just to make my life easier?â
He gave you a considering look. âYou hate him?â he asked.
âI do,â you said, very quietly.
âAlright,â he said with a decisive nod. âIâll play a fucking round of golf. And Iâll demolish him.â
You couldnât help the small smile that bloomed on your face. âSure, Ransom,â you said fondly. You doubted it. Joseph golfed more than he worked. But the sentiment was really nice.
He took a step back into your space. The arm that wasnât holding Lola wrapped around your waist. âYou okay with them coming here? Really?â
And you knew, in that moment, that if you said âNo,â he would figure out a way to keep them as far away from you as he could. Warmth bloomed in your chest. You still hadnât gotten over the fact that he cared. âYeah, Iâm okay. Itâll be good to see my mom.â
âOkay,â he said, with a shockingly gentle kiss to your forehead. âThen I guess I can tolerate golf with Joseph for an afternoon.â
You woke up early the morning your mother was visiting. You had too much nervous energy to sleep. So you got up, took care of Lola, and started making breakfast for yourself and Ransom.
Your mom was going to come spend the day with you at the house, and then youâd go to the country club together to meet Joseph and Ransom for dinner after they were done golfing. Spending the entire day with her would be good. It would.
Ransom didnât comment when he got up and found you already in the kitchen. He just kept you company as you cooked. He seemed to understand that you needed the silence filled, so he told you about what he expected his work day to include. A new author coming in, a probable fight with Walt, paperwork heâd been putting off. He didnât make any mention of the time heâd be spending with Joseph this afternoon, and you were grateful. You were anxious enough already.
Too soon, you were both done with breakfast, and Ransom had gone back upstairs to finish getting ready. The doorbell sounded, and you took a deep breath before answering it.
Your mother stood on the front step, looking put together but maybe as nervous as you were. And frail. She looked very frail. She smiled at the sight of you, as big as she had ever managed. Despite all of the feelings that always swirled around inside of you when you thought of her, you smiled too. And then you threw your arms around her in a big hug.
You hugged her as tightly as you thought she could handle, as you breathed in the familiar floral notes of the perfume Joseph always got her for her birthday. And she hugged you back, her face pressed close.
âOh honey, Iâve missed you so much,â she said softly.
âIâve missed you too, Mom,â you replied. And you meant it. Eventually, you pulled away. âDid you have breakfast at your hotel? Can I make you something?â you asked as you ushered her into the house.
âOh no, you donât need to do that. We had a nice spread at the hotel. But if you wanted to share a pot of tea, I wouldnât say n-â
The sound of footsteps hit the stairs, and your mom stopped talking immediately. You watched as her eyes tracked Ransom as he came down. Her body curled inward, just a bit, somehow making herself look even smaller than normal. âRansom,â you called to him once he was in the room, wanting to break the strange tension that had suddenly filled the space. âYou remember my mom, Lydia.â
Ransom stopped short, right next to you. A vague look of surprise on his face. He quickly schooled his expression into something much more neutral, and you made a mental note to ask him about it later. âYes, of course,â he said, taking a step forward but stopping when she took a small step back. âItâs lovely to see you. I hope you got here alright.â
âYes,â she said quietly. âThank you.â
She didnât say anything else. An uneasy silence settled over all three of you. You tried to catch your momâs eye, see if she was okay, but she couldn't keep her wary gaze off of Ransom.
âWell,â Ransom finally spoke, as awkward as youâd ever heard him, âI should get going.â He turned to you, one hand immediately going to your bump. âYouâre sure youâre going to be okay?â he asked, lowly, just for you.
You ducked your head with a shy smile at his care and nodded. His other hand came up to briefly caress your cheek as he gave you a small peck on the lips. Then he grabbed his work bag and headed out the door, calling out behind him, âI hope you have a good day together. Iâll see you both at dinner.â
As soon as the door closed behind him, you could feel your momâs relief. You took a step towards her. âMom, are youââ
âThis is such a lovely home,â she said, stepping past you to look into the living room.
You blinked after her, trying to track what was happening. âOh, um, thank you. Weâre actually moving soon, though. Before the baby comes. We found a house we both really like.â
She looked at you, surprised. âHe let you help decide?â
There was something about the question that made your heart crack, just a little. You werenât sure yet who for. âYeah, Mom. We discussed what we wanted. Weâll both be living there, after all.â
She opened her mouth to respond before she was distracted by Lola running into the room and jumping up onto the couch. âOh!â your mom exclaimed. âI didnât know you still had your little dog!â
You did your best to ignore the implication of thatâthat sheâd assumed Ransom would make you give her upâand went to Lola to scratch behind her ears. âOf course, I do. Lola goes wherever I go, donât you, baby?â
You looked up to find your mom staring at you, her expression tricky to read. There was relief there, first and foremost, but something else you couldn't quite decipher. After a very long pause, she said very quietly, âHe must be very fond of you.â
All you could do was blink at her for a moment. Then, âYes, I think so. I thinkâ Weâre fond of each other. We get along well.â It felt strange to talk about your relationship this way. It felt so new andâ and delicate. And yours. You didnât know how to talk about it with someone who hadnât been there for the whole thing.
âHe really isnât so bad?â she asked with a hopeful tinge to her voice.
âNo,â you said, âheâs not so bad at all. Now that Iâve gotten to know him.â
And at that, her body sagged. Like sheâd finally released a breath sheâd been holding for the last eight months. Her eyes were watery when she looked you in the eyes and said, her voice shaking a little, âThatâs good. Thatâs so good.â
You took a step towards her and held out one hand. âMom,â you asked, âare you alright?â
âOf course,â she said, too quickly, with a wobbly smile. âIâm just so happy to see you.â
âYeah,â you said, but kept a careful eye on her. âMe too, Mom.â
You were able to busy yourself for a few minutes by preparing a few mugs of herbal tea for both of you before you settled on the couch in the living room with her.
Once you were seated, she put a hesitant hand on your stomach with a soft smile. âYouâre glowing,â she said. âIs everything going well with the baby so far?â
âYeah, I think so. The doctor doesnât have any concerns right now. And theyâve started moving. Itâs wild to think that thereâs an actual person growing in there. Iâm really looking forward to meeting them. And I think Ransomâs getting excited too.â
Her smile shifted a little. âMen are always excited to meet their sons.â And at that, you couldnât help the way your smile dropped. Your mom noticed, of course. âHave you found out the babyâs sex yet?â
You turned away some as you shook your head. âNo,â you said very quietly. âThat appointmentâs next week.â
âDo you have a feeling either way?â your mother asked urgently.
âNo,â you lied. Of course, you had an inkling. One that had been growing stronger every day. But you hadnât dared voice that feeling yet. It was too terrifying. âI have no idea. I just want them to be safe and healthy.â
âSweetheart,â she placed a hand on yours, demanding your attention. âThatâ No, you canât afford to think that way. You need to be prepared in case the worst happens.â
âThe worst?â you asked, voice small, unable to look at her.
âThereâs no greater heartbreak than having a daughter.â
You almost gasped, the words hitting you right in your chest, deep and sharp. You couldnât help the way your hands came up to cradle your stomach, wanting to protect the person inside if you couldn't protect yourself. âMom,â you whispered, torn apart.
âHoney, I love you so much. Youâre the best thing that ever happened to me. Butâ But men want sons. Especially for the first one. They need heirs. And you and your children wonât be truly safe until you give Ransom an heir. Iâm sorry, but itâs true. You must remember what it was like when your father died without an heir.â
âIââ you started, but came up short. Your earliest memories were all a blur. You remembered feelings. Fear of your father. And then panic after he died. But nothing specific.
âIt was the scariest time of my life. Even scarier than when I first married him. Because he died without an heir, because I hadnât given him one, everything reverted back to his family. And my family wouldnât take us back. You and I, we had nothing. Honey, I didnât know where we were going to sleep or how I was going to feed you. I was so terrified. If Iâd had a son, none of that would have happened. And I tried, after you were born, I tried so hard to give your father what he wanted. But I couldnât. I couldnât give him another child, a son, so when he died, I had to do everything I could to find someone else to take care of us. Weâre so lucky that Joseph was willing to take us in, that he already had an heir, and that he didnât need that from me. He saved us.
âI donât want any of that for you. Ransom is fond of you. Thatâs good. Heâll forgive you if this baby isnât a boy. But if it isnât, you need to try to have a son again as soon as you can. You canât hesitate. You never know what might happen.â
âMom, pleaseââ
She gripped your hands tightly, âI know this is difficult to hear, but you need to listen to me. This is so important. I donât want you to go through what I went through. I want a better life for you. Do you understand?â
You swallowed harshly. She was looking at you with such desperation that for a long moment all you could do was nod. You believed Ransom when he said he cared about you, cared about this baby. But youâd also seen previously doting husbands turn cold when their hope of an heir, their legacy, came unfulfilled. As painful as it was, your mother was right. You couldnât afford to ignore everything that was at stake here.
âYes, Mom,â you finally answered, voice rough. âI understand.â
She exhaled in relief as her grip on your hands lessened but didnât disappear. âHoney, even though you werenât the heir your father wanted, I was so happy when I finally got to meet you. I didnât have to be alone anymore. Youâve always been the greatest joy of my life. And no matter what happens, this baby will be that for you too. Youâre going to be such a wonderful mother. I just know it.â
You blinked back the tears threatening to spill over your lashes. Your heart was breaking for numerous reasons you couldnât even name. You moved one hand from her grasp and used it to gently cradle your stomach. âI hope so,â you said, too quietly. âI want to be good for them.â
âYou will be,â she said, with one final, loving pat to your hand. Then she reached for her tea and began to ask you about your new house. And you tried to pretend like everything was fine.
You got to the restaurant at the country club feeling raw and anxious. Youâd wanted to enjoy your day with your mom, but her words from this morning were hanging over your head.
Ransom and Joseph were already at the table. Ransom with a shit-eating grin on his face while Joseph looked thunderous. Ransom stood to greet you as soon as you were at the table, with a gentle kiss on your cheek. With a wary eye towards Joseph, you asked, âHow was the golf?â
Ransomâs grin got even bigger. âI think it went pretty well!â he said, surprisingly brightly, loud enough for the whole table to hear. âEspecially for my very first time. I won by three strokes!â
âGoddamn beginnerâs luck,â Joseph grumbled under his breath from his side of the table, where your mom was already sitting stiffly next to him. He barely acknowledged her.
You looked back at Ransom, slightly confused. Just last week heâd told you he was an experienced golfer. At his subtle wink, you had to work hard to stifle your laughter. You couldnât think of anything that would piss off Joseph more than being beaten by a supposed beginner.
âHow was your day together?â Ransom asked as he pulled out your chair for you.
âIt was nice,â you said. And parts of it were. The little girl inside you would always be happy to see your mom. Even if every flinch, every sigh, every piece of advice felt like a dire warning for the life you could have, the person you could become if you werenât very, very careful. You smiled over at her, and she smiled back, even if it was a little fragile.
Joseph rolled his eyes. âYeah, Lydiaâs been very excited to see you. Hopefully she got all that chattering out of her system.â
And just like that, your mom shrank back down, like she was trying to take up as little space at this table as possible. Joseph saved us. Your motherâs words from that morning echoed in your head. Had the cost been worth it? Had any of this ever been worth it?
Ransom leaned forward. âSheâs been really looking forward to your visit, too.â He said to your mother, sincerely. âI hope it was a really good day.â
She looked up at him briefly before looking away again. âYes, it was,â she said very softly. âThank you.â
You reached under the table and grabbed Ransomâs hand. He didnât react, but he gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze.
Joseph spent most of the dinner only talking to Ransom, which was honestly fine with you. You tried to engage your mom in conversation on your end of the table, but now that the two of you were no longer alone, she didnât have much to say. Her eyes kept darting nervously to where the men were talking.
You didnât catch what prompted it, but your attention was caught when Joseph laughed, âYouâll feel differently once your own son is born in a few months!â
Your son your son your son
But this baby isnât a boy something inside you responded with a certainty you could not have. There was no way to know that. There was no reason to be so sure.
You were too busy spiraling to catch if and how Ransom responded. But then Joseph turned to you and captured all of your attention. âAnd look at you, Sweetheart,â he said, his tone slick and smug and awful, âyouâre glowing. Donât you feel silly for the scene you made that night? I told you it was just cold feet.â
Your heart lurched at his words. You didnât have to pause to try to remember what he was talking about. That awful night when youâd gone to the man whoâd raised you since you were six years old and begged him to have a shred of humanity and not all but sell you to a stranger. The night your step-father had laughed at you and patronized you and turned you away. The night your entire world had come crashing down and this man who was supposed to be your family hadnât cared.
You knew you should say something. You knew you should stand up for yourself, but all you could do was choke on the words as you felt yourself going back in time. As you remembered how completely terrified youâd been.
Ransom went completely still next to you, still holding your hand under the table. âCold feet?â he asked, his head tilting dangerously. âWhat are you talking about?â
Joseph seemed to be the only one who hadnât noticed how tense the atmosphere had gotten. He chuckled. âOh, she came to me after your first dinner. Fussing about the pregnancy clause. She begged me not to make her go through with the arrangement.â He rolled his eyes. âI told her she was being ridiculous, of course. That there was a lot more riding on this than some silly girlâs nerves over being a mother. And look at her now! I was right. Everything worked out fine.â
Ransom got very, very quiet. The only part of him that moved was a muscle in his jaw that ticked angrily. You squeezed his hand under the table, unsure of what he was going to do. And equally unsure if you wanted to stop him or not.
But before anyone else could say anything, your mom rushed in, her voice panicked and urgent, even as she tried to keep her tone light. âOh, no, butâ But she didnât mean anything by it! All girls get nervous! Itâs normal! It wasnât anything against you! She justâ Sheâ Sheââ
âMy god, Lydia,â Joseph interrupted. âWhat are you babbling about?â
Your mom went silent, but her eyes stayed on Ransom, desperate, pleading.
You felt Ransom take a deep breath and force his body to relax. He leaned across the table to your mom and said, voice calm and reassuring. âI would never be upset with her for being scared. I promise.â But as he turned from her to Joseph, you watched his face turn to stone. âBut I canât imagine ever turning away my own child if they were that scared of something.â
âIt isnât like sheâs my actual child,â Joseph scoffed. âAnd she was overreacting, being dramatic. Everything turned out fine!â
Ransomâs eyes narrowed as he hummed in thought. âYou think youâd be a little more grateful to her, considering the fact that youâve been trying to get the rights to Harlanâs works for decades without any luck. The only thing that made the deal go through this time was the fact that her addition finally made the pot sweet enough. So it might be a good idea to remember, if I were you, that the one thing holding together the only significant rights deal your flagging studio has had in years is the woman sitting next to me. Just a thought.â And then, just like that, he went back to eating his steak, like nothing had happened. But the hand holding yours shifted so that he could thread your fingers together.
You were quiet on the car ride home. Saying goodbye to your mom had been difficult, even as much as you were ready for your life to go back to normal, whatever that might be. Sheâd hugged you so tight. You hadnât wanted to let go.
You were leaning your head against the window, watching the world go by in the dark, when Ransom cleared his throat. âAnd I thought Linda was a piece of work.â His attempt at humor hung in the air awkwardly. You didnât say anything or turn to look at him. You were too tired.
âSorry,â he said after another few long, silent moments. âAre you okay?â
âYeah,â you said into the window. âIâm fine.â You knew he hated that word, but you didnât know what else to say.
It was quiet as Ransom merged onto the highway, and then he tried again. âHow old was your mom when she had you?â
That finally got you to turn your head. âWhat?â
He glanced over at you before returning his eyes to the road. âShe was a lot younger than I expected.â
You gave him a confused look. âYou met her before, didnât you? At the wedding.â
He sighed and looked at you again. âThat was a hard day. There was a lot that never really registered,â he answered, somewhat sheepishly. âAnd so today, I was surprised. I expected someone older.â
You hummed thoughtfully. âShe was twenty with me.â
âShit,â he mumbled to himself. âAnd your dad?â he asked, like he didnât really want to know the answer.
You shrugged, shrinking in on yourself, just a bit. âI donât know. I was really little, andâ I donât know. Old enough to have a heart attack, I guess.â
âJesus Christ,â Ransom muttered to himself again.
He didnât say anything else, but you were finally ready to talk. You had too many words swirling around in your head to be able to stop them from tumbling out of your mouth. âShe was really afraid of you. Did you notice that?â You didnât wait for him to respond. âReally scared. At first, I thought it was so weird. She doesnât really know you, why wouldâ And then I wondered if maybe she was just afraid of all men. Given her track recordâ But tonight, during dinner, it clicked. Sheâs afraid of you because if you got upset about anything, you could take it out on me. Thatâs what had her terrified. And then I realized, all the advice and the âjust keep him happyâ and the letting me learn how to cook and how to dance and, andâ She thinks sheâs protecting me. And she is. I guess. In the only way she knows how. And I want to be grateful for it. Iâ I do. I am. Maybe. But, god, she still handed me the pen!â
âWhat pen?â Ransom asked, and you suddenly realized that you werenât just exorcising your turbulent thoughts into the ether but having a real conversation. With your husband.
You swallowed hard, trying to will yourself to stay in the present instead of hurtling back in time to that awful day that started everything. âWhen they first showed me the contract for our marriage. When they made me sign it. Sheâs the one who handed me the pen. And I donât know what to do with that.â
Ransom didnât say anything. He didnât even take his eyes off the road. But he took his right hand off the steering wheel and extended it over the gear shaft to cover both of your hands in your lap. And he maybe didnât know what to say, but thisâ It was enough.
A week later, you could tell Ransom was concerned as you walked into the clinic together. You knew why. Youâd been quiet all day. Nauseous. Today was the day it could all fall apart.
âAre you feeling alright?â he asked as you sat in the waiting room.
âYeah, Iâm fine,â you said quietly.
That just seemed to worry him more. âAre you sure? Did you eat today?â
âYes, Ransom, I did,â you lied. âI said I was fine.â
âIs it the baby? Theyâre healthy, Iâm sure. Itâs going to be alright.â
You almost laughed in his face. This appointment was not going to be all right. That, you knew for certain. Instead, you just said, âYes, I know, Ransom,â unable to keep the irritation out of your tone.
He didnât say anything else, but you could feel him watching you until your name was finally called.
The appointment was going fine. The baby was healthy, a good size. Everything looked the way it was supposed to. You wished you could take comfort in that.
Ransom was staring at the screen of the ultrasound. âWow,â he said, his voice full of awe and a soft smile on his face. âTheyâre starting to look like an actual baby.â He looked to you, to share in it, and you found it easier than you expected to smile back. He was so happy. You had to savor it. Especially since you were so scared that heâd no longer be looking at you like that in just a few minutes.
Sooner than you were ready for, Dr. Patel said the words youâd been dreading. âSo,â she asked with a grin, âare we learning the sex of the baby today?â
Ransomâs smile got even bigger, eager. âYeaââ
âNo!â You interrupted, too loud, too fast. This hadnât been your plan, but the panic had overtaken you, and you were operating purely on instinct now. âNo, we donât want to find out!â
âWhat?â Ransomâs shock may have gotten to you if your heartbeat wasnât so loud in your ears.
âWe donât want to find out,â you repeated, urgently, shaking your head too hard.
He was staring at you. They both were. But you couldnât do anything about it. You were too busy trying to remember how to breathe.
That got a little easier when your husband finally turned his attention away from you. âCould you give us a minute?â
âOf course,â she said with a tight smile. Then everyone but you and Ransom left the room.
At first, Ransom didnât say anything. He just held your hand, his thumb sweeping across it in soothing arcs. After a few minutes, his voice impossibly soft, he started a steady tide of comforting murmurs. âHey, itâs okay, honey. Youâre alright. Youâre safe. Everythingâs okay. Just breathe with me, honey. Iâm right here with you. Youâre okay.â
You closed your eyes, letting yourself be comforted by it, even if you knew it couldnât last. After several minutes of that, youâd calmed down enough for him to attempt a real conversation. âI guess we probably should have talked about it first,â he said, keeping that same impossibly soft tone, âbut I assumed youâd be excited to find out. Iâm really excited to find out.â
At that, you tried to close your eyes even tighter, tears leaking out from the force of it, falling down your cheeks.
His thumb paused, for just a beat, then continued to sweep across your skin. âHoney. Please look at me. Itâs okay, I promise. I just want you to look at me.â It took all the strength in you, but after a long moment, you forced your eyes open and finally looked at Ransom. His expression was terribly worried, but he let out a small breath in relief once he could see your eyes. âOkay, can you tell me why that was the wrong thing to say?â
This was the last conversation you wanted to have, but you knew you had no choice, so you powered through as best you could. âYouâre excited to find out this babyâs your heir. Thatâs what youâre excited for.â
âWhat?â The worry on his face was replaced with sheer confusion. âHoney, I donât give a shit if this babyâs my heir.â
âYes, you do,â you countered, voice firm. âYou might not know that you do, but you do. All men do, whether you realize it or not.â He opened his mouth to reply, but you kept going before he was able to get any words out. âAnd Iâm not upset with you for that. Iâm not. I understand. And Iâm not afraid youâll do something to me if they arenât the boy you want. I know you wonât. I trust you. I know youâll even still try to love this baby, but⊠I justâ I just canât see the disappointment on your face when you find out. I just canât. I think it will break my heart completely, and Iâ Maybe itâll be better if you find out when theyâre born. Maybe itâll be harder to be disappointed when thereâs a real baby in your arms instead of just the idea of one. Maybe it wonât. Maybe youâll still be upset. But I just canât see your disappointment today. Iâm sorry. I just canât.â
Ransom was very quiet for a long time. You didnât say anything either. You didnât have anything else to say. You just stared at his hand, still holding yours. Finally, he spoke, his voice surprisingly rough. âYou know, thereâs a lot Iâve been thinking about lately. A lot of things Iâm really worried about. One of the biggest ones is the idea of a little me running around. I was a pretty terrible kid. An awful teenager. A shit twenty-something. I think of a son, and I think of all of the mistakes Iâve ever made. I worry that he wonât be able to escape them. But you know what doesnât worry me? The thought of a little you. Beautiful. Kind. Funny. Unbelievably brave. Thatâs who I see when I close my eyes and imagine our child.â He paused, thoughtful, and squeezed your hand. âEither way, the thing I most want for this baby is that they have all the best parts of you and none of the worst parts of me. Thatâs whatâs most important to me. I donât give a shit about the rest of it.â
You felt another wave of tears fall down your face. Later, maybe youâd be able to tell him all the ways you hoped your child was just like him, all the things of his that you wanted them to inherit, but for now, all you could say was, âYou mean it?â
âYes,â he said, so solemnly, looking you dead in the eyes. âI mean it.â
You took a deep breath. âOkay,â you whispered, not able to get any louder.
âYeah? Okay? Should we let Dr Patel back in? Are you ready to find out?â
You took another deep breath. And then another. And then you nodded. At least now you would know for sure. Either way.
The doctor and the tech came back in. More gel was squeezed onto your stomach. The babyâs placement was found again. The wand maneuvered around. And then, with a careful smile, a little wary of the news she was about to deliver, Dr. Patel said, âCongratulations. Youâre having a girl.â
Your breath stopped again, and your eyes flew to Ransom. He was staring at you. A wide smile on his face. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears. âItâs okay?â you asked, voice shaking.
âItâs incredible,â he beamed, placing a happy kiss against your forehead. âItâs absolutely incredible.â
Exhaling a breath you felt like youâd been holding for weeks, you finally let yourself let go of some of your worry, just for now, and feel the same joy he felt. You smiled back at him. It was incredible. You were having a girl.
Summary: More catdad!Bucky, he has my heart and soul and whatever else he desires
WARNINGS: Basically idiot in love/ idiot pinning after the other. Established roommate/friendly relationship
Word Count: 1,330
A/N: Written during my lay over, happy holidays đ«
đđđđđ
The way Bucky treated Alpine truly melted your heart. The man was obsessed with his cat, and for good reason.
Alpine was such an interesting little thing. Talkative, but only if you talked first. Cuddly at all times, no matter how you were sitting. A little chunky, but Bucky was working on that. In fact, you distinctly remember that time you overheard Bucky in the kitchen talking to her and saying,Â
âYou know, Alp, if I ate as much as you did, I dont think theyâd ever call me for a mission.â And, of course, he was met back with a small âmrrowâ
The way Bucky spoiled her rotten was exactly the way you thought she deserved to be spoiled. But there were times his adoration left you at a loss for words. The effort he put into her meals - not just kibble, but topped with wet food and cooked chicken. The trial and error into finding her favorite toys. He did whatever he needed to to make sure she lived a life of pure comfort.
It was his adoration that also explained why you were standing in the middle of the living room at 2 in the morning squinting at the TV. Light flooding the small area, birds chirping and squirrels chattering as they bounced in and out of the screen.
You blinked a few times, utterly confused. It didnt help that you were groggy and your brain was working at a fraction of the speed it should have been. The birds crowed around a pile of seeds and peanuts, chirping and fluttering their wings before a brown squirrel scurried over for a bite. A low thud started in your head, but it was the small sigh next to you that pulled you from this sleep-induced hypnosis.
Alpine was curled into the corner of the couch, easily mistaken for a small throw pillow at a quick glance. She blinked slowly at you. You blinked back. Both of you silently wondered what was going on.Â
âItâs nice he left your show on,â you whispered, voice scratchy as you sat down next to her, âbut I donât think youâre really watching it.â
She trilled back at you, nose twitching as you brought your hand up for her to smell. Her eyes were kept closed in small slits much like yours, the TV washing you both in a pale green light. Alpine was a friendly roommate, and it was a major relief when she warmed up to you.
You had really just stumbled into being Buckyâs roommate. He had been having quite a bit of trouble finding someone willing to share a place with the former Winter Soldier, and living alone had just previously driven him a smidge crazy. In a last ditch effort attempt, through word of mouth, you had met up with him to discuss the possibility of moving in.
From everything youâd seen, there was no doubt he was a changed man. That feeling had only been further solidified once you met with him at a coffee shop and he anxiously bounced his knee while stumbling through his offer. A 70/30 split on rent, a mostly silent apartment, and a cat as the unofficial third roommate. Your jaw dropped at the perfect offoer.
How had no one accepted that? And why was he still talking like it needed to be justified? His apologies for being gone at odd times of the day for work, being himself, and the⊠cat hair, were immediately waved off by you as you excitedly accepted his proposal.
And here you now were, curled on the couch next to your third roommate, scritching her velvety ears.
You were lost in your own thoughts for who knows how long. The fog of sleep wafted over you, on and off. The sound of the TV mixed with Alps soft breaths as she drifted to sleep kept you in a state of airiness.
The muted click of your front door opening pulled you from your trance. It took a moment for your eyes to focus in on Bucky as he slowly shut the door behind himself.
âHow are my two favorites doing?â He asked in a low tone, speaking really only for you. You shrugged instinctively in response as he sheepishly smiled.
As quiet as the super soldier was, he was no match for his clingy cat. Alpine perked up, trilling as her dad scratched her back. His metal arm made no noise with normal use, but the phantom whirring in your ears still happened. He was so gentle with her, when he wasn't racing her through your hallways, that is. A stray thought of how gentle his hands could be on your body made its way into your brain.
âYou left the TV on.â You stuttered out, still staring at his black, vibranium fingers combing through her white fur.
Alpine stretched, back arching as her front paws dug into the plushness of the couch. She yawned wide and showed off her rows of sharp teeth that seemingly glowed by the TV light. She leapt onto the back of the couch and bonked her head against yours before forcing her way into Bucky's arms.
âIâm sorry it woke you up.â Bucky softly apologized, easily shifting Alpine in his arms to cradle her. The tip of her tail swished lightly against the couch. Alpine was already a little smaller than average for a cat her age, but in Buckyâs arms she looked like a kitten.
You shook your head and looked back at the TV. The light still made your eyes ache but it was easier to look at than Bucky at the moment, âItâs alright, really, she seemed to need company anyways.â
Your face grew redder as the last words mostly tumbled out without second thought. Though it was a relief that your blushing was now explained away by embarrassment.
But the words had been said. Birds fluttering on screen and squirrels shifting through nuts in silence.
âYeah, that's why Iâm⊠Iâm taking some days off this weekend,â Bucky stood up straighter, his free hand gripping the back of the couch near your head. Without a second of warning, he cupped your face delicately, his thumb against your chin as he turned your face to look at him, âDidnât think it was all too fair to leave my cat in your care. I know her running around at night is what's causing those bags under your eyes.â
His accusation was kind, but still an accusation. You'd tried before to blame it on early shifts. Bucky hadn't bought it. You then wanted to blame it on a bad mattress, another excuse he saw straight through. It was painfully clear Alpine's late night sprints were the reason you got no sleep.
And now, you wanted to blame your sleepiness for the way you leaned slightly into his hand. Seeking more of that feather-like touch youâd imagined. But his touch only lingered for a moment before he pulled away.
There was a knowing glint in his eyes, a quirk of his lips that disappeared just about as fast as it came. âI hope youâre able to get some sleep. Maybe even sleep in tomorrow, huh?â
All you could do was stare at him owlishly as he retreated to his room. He was cooing at Alp but you werenât listening to a single word he was saying, focusing more on the soft and smooth drawl of his voice.
Just before he fully disappeared, you managed to blurt out a speedy âGoodnight, Bucky!â
âGoodnight, doll, sleep well.â He murmured, turning his head just barely over his shoulder. All you could see was the silhouette of his body, a dark grey form against a darker grey abyss that was his bedroom.
As his door shut you were left with a thrumming heart, a TV playing silently, and a heat in your body that started in your face and went all the way downâŠ
Lloydâs such a simple guy when it comes to life: he just wants to be comfortable. And if he canât be comfortable you bet your ass heâs gonna buy that comfort.
So I imagine him in the morning laying out by the pool, drinking some fruity drink with a leopard print Speedo. He tends to enjoy the early morning more, because neither the heat nor the humidity have settled in yet.
Just as youâre about to call him in for a mid morning snack, he comes stomping into the kitchen, sweat dripping down his chest.
âWho ordered all this fucking heat?â
Youâd simply shrug and offer him some lemonade, because he did the same thing every day. A small smile on your lips as you turned to the fridge and you mouthed his next words.
âI swear to God Iâm getting a place in Siberia so we donât have to deal with this shit anymore.â
When you turn around youâll have already schooled your features and youâll reply, just like you did the day before. âBut I love seeing you in your bathing suit.â The extra little pout may be a bit much, but Lloyd loves it.
His chest will puff out, and heâll shoot you a wink before going to pull you into his arms.
âLloyd, no! Youâre sweaty and gross, go take a shower!â
Thatâs when a spark lights up his eye, âIâll give you the count of three Pumpkin, better hope I donât catch you.â
You donât even wait for him to start counting before youâre bounding away, you hear him yell âThree!â From the kitchen before you know heâs tracking you through the house.
You both know it wonât take him long to find you, but pretending was half the fun. In almost no time he has you cornered in the laundry room, a smirk pulling at his features.
âWellâŠI guess weâre both sweaty and gross now. Letâs go have a shower.â
With that he tosses you over his shoulder and carries you to the master bathroom a swat to your ass as you squeal with mirth.
***
I think itâs a great way to spend a hot humid day, donât you? Thanks for the fun ask Siri! â€ïž
an established couple and their (soon to be) third dealing with a "there's only one bed !!!1!!!1!11" trope and they all sleep in the same bed all cozy đ„°
an established couple and their (soon to be) third dealing with a "there's only one bed !!!1!!!1!11" trope and they all sleep in the same bed all cozy đ„°
đ§đ»ââïžâšBippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! Youâve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now (if you feel inspired) you must share a hoe thot about: CE!babe + receiving comfort from someone unexpected
Siri! Thanks for gracing me with this! Iâll admit, this one made me think for a bit. But! I think I narrowed it down to one guyâŠÂ
Andrew Barber.
I imagine itâs a few years after his wife and son pass, heâs just gotten so in the habit of submerging himself in his work that heâs letting his life pass too. You, his steady assistant, want to break him out of that mental rut. Maybe you're not completely unexpected, but seen more so as off limits
Maybe clear his schedule for the day. Buy him lunch. A nice note on his desk. A note that he sees is maybe less innocent than what meets the eye. That little heart at the end of it⊠oh yeah, heâs got a new focus. You. Maybe when you go to leave for the night, you ask if thereâs anything else you can do for him on this weird day. Andy has a couple ideas.
I also think a drabble of that might look like this!Â
1,561 words⊠oops (TW: mentions of dead wife/kid, mentions of divorce, NSFW behavior [employee/boss relationship, innuendos of sexual favors, gettin horny!, âsirâ kink, dom/sub vibes if u squint])
--
Mr. Barber worked hard. Harder than any other person youâd ever met.
As his assistant, you saw all of it. The countless meetings, his phone going off all the time, his email being connected to yours and the amount of messages he got was enough to send you to the brink. His life revolved around work, and you saw it chip away at him.
âMr. Barber, I have that meeting right after your lunch moved to next Wednesday,â Your fingers tapped away at your keyboard, reorganizing his calendar and clearing out emails.
Andy shifted in his seat, the leather creaking under his body weight. He was wearily leaning against his desk as he reread paperwork. He sighed, glanced up at you with confusion, and ran his hand back through his brown hair, âWhat? Why?â
âMs. Williams sends her condolences, Mr. Barber.â Your fingers lightly tapped the plastic of your laptop. You looked up from your screen, internally wincing as realization flickered over his face.
âOh.â Andy breathed out. He didnât look particularly sad, not anymore than he had previously, but more so resigned, âRight. Yes.â
He cleared his throat -- you held back on doing the same -- and took in another deep breath. It was the four year anniversary of his wife and sonâs passing.
Andy clicked his tongue, blowing out a breath through his teeth. You watched him try to refocus on his papers, but it was uninspiring even to the most dedicated DA's. The stiffness you felt in the room mightâve been your own discomfort with it all. You only started working for him two and a half years ago, so you never met his family. But from everything you saw, you would have never known heâd been married had it not been for others telling you.
No wedding ring. No photos. No talk of his family. Hell, he didnât even date! And you only knew that much because he told you once if he did date you would have to schedule it for him (âYou know my weeks better than I do.â)
âI was going to go pick up some lunch, Mr. Barber, would you like anything?â You stood from your chair in the corner, already tucking your laptop away into your bag. Really, it was the least you could do for the man. Today couldnât have been easy for him.
âOh, sure, yes. Thank you.â He stood as well, fishing his credit card from his wallet, âJust the little place off 34th? Yeah?â
Nodding, you waved off his card, âIâve got it, sir, donât worry. Club sandwich with chips?â
=====
The wait wasnât long at the restaurant, long enough to allow you to clear his entire afternoon. It was just a few meetings moved, a few emails you directed towards other people in the cases, a few little tweaks to give Andy the afternoon off he deserved.Â
Unfortunately by giving him the day off, you gave yourself a few more errands to run. Twas the balance youâd have to maintain.
You walked quickly through the building towards his office, two bags in hand. When you managed the door open with your elbow, you noticed Andy wasnât there.
That was a little odd. He was usually good about keeping you updated. But, whatever, you mentally waved it off again. He could be peeing, getting a drink, or even just taking a short wander. It didnât matter.
âJeez, BarberâŠâ you grumbled to yourself as you cleared an area on his desk. You paused as you grabbed a larger stack of papers, the text already adorned with three different colors of pen and highlighter and multiple sticky notes. If you filed it now you wouldnât have to do it later⊠but that also meant youâd have less time to make your appointments.
âAh, fuck it.â With a reserved huff, you stacked multiple groups of papers in the âto be sortedâ wire bin. A later you problem.
You fished out his sandwich and chips and the extra little sugar cookie, placing them all nicely in the middle of his desk. Grabbing a red pen and a blank sticky note, you scribbled out âEnjoy! <3â with a smiley face and star.
And with that, you reached for your own sandwich as well. Which youâd have to eat in the car.
=====
Andy hated how you probably saw him.
The widowed guy with a dead ex-wife and a dead kid. And itâs not like he could say anything about it. Hell, most other people felt more upset about it all than he did!
The one aspect he missed most was his son, but even his sonâs memory had been slowly degraded in his mind.
Right before either of them passed, he and his ex wife had been mid divorce. Well, none of the paper work had started yet, but they were already amicably split. Their son had gotten more verbally aggressive in the five-ish years before as well, yelling and lashing out. When he was at his house Andy felt like if he stepped wrong he was getting yelled at.
Though their deaths stunned him, he wasnât grieving anymore. He hadnât been for a long time.
Youâd brought up him dating once, he brushed it off by blaming his busy schedule. Was there any good way to tell you that he felt no reason to date anyone when he got to be with you every day? Probably not.
Andy returned to his office and noticed the food on his desk with everything else nicely squared away. He passed by without a second glance, instead peering out through the window behind it. Your car wasnât there. Fuck.
That was fine, heâd eat and watch some sports. Not a bad way to spend his break.
He sat heavily in his chair and reached for the sandwich, his eyes paused on the note you left.
That heart.
That little red heart.
He loved your handwriting, a mix of cursive and print, and when you used certain pens it looked like the world's most beautiful calligraphy to him.
At any other time, he mightâve been embarrassed by the way his pants suddenly felt way too tight. Or the strained breath he let out as he stared at your writing.
But heâd been feeling these fuckinâ feelings for so long that this was basically second nature. He peaked up and quickly stood to lock his door.
He stood in the middle of his office, slacks tented. He grabbed the sticky note and stared at the heart.
Thatâs got to mean something, right? Thatâs what he told himself as he unbuckled his belt and sat back in his chair. Heâd eat his sandwich to muffle his moans and pray that if anyone heard him, theyâd think he was crying.
=====
It was much much later than youâd hoped itâd be. You were usually so good about leaving right at 5, but it was 7:15 and you still had to organize those damn papers!
âOh-! Mr. Barber!â You startled easily when you entered his office. He looked up from his computer, giving you a half smile. Heâd lost his suit jacket and loosened his tie, looking more relaxed and at ease.
âHey, didnât mean to spook ya,â He rolled his shoulders back and raised an eyebrow, âArenât you supposed to be home?â
You clicked the door shut behind you, not wanting to disturb anyone else who may be working. A sheepish smile spread across your face, you shrugged and slid your bag off your shoulder, âI could ask you the same thing, sir.â
When you glanced up at Andy, his eyes had gone from soft and relaxed to black. Your heart thumped hard in your chest. His usually light blue eyes were nearly all black as his pupils dilated.
âI just, uhm, had a few more emails I needed to wrap up, Mr. Barber.â You swallowed and smiled, glancing down at your bag you added, âIs there anything you need from me, sir?â
âWhat would you be willing to help me with?â
You paused, blinking down at your bag. It was barely touching your foot.
What were you willing to help him with? Do you tell him about your own late nights? How you tossed and turned in bed as another one night stand failed to match your expectations of what he might be able to do? Do you tell him how you lied when you did your 6 month internship and you didnât really need to be present at all of his meetings? Do you tell him you wished so badly he had a date lined up for once in his life! How you wish it was you he went out with?
Your thoughts only bought you a fraction of a second in reality. Maybe it was for the better it wasnât longer.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you looked up at him.
The dim lighting shifted the mood. Moments ago it was dreary. A late night working and being bored out of your mind. But now it was warmer. Hopefully intimate.
You reached behind you, keeping your gaze leveled with his as you clicked the lock. There was a flicker of hunger in his eyes, solidifying what you felt. He leaned his elbows on his desk, sleeves rolled up.
âWhatever you need help with, sir.â You whispered. âHow can I help?â
anyone ever write a fic that all "virgin sacrifice" based except one of the ppl is panicking bc they don't want to be sacrificed? so they go out and desperately try to have sex with someone? only to find out that person was the god they would've been sacrificed to anyways?
that exist yet?
can someone who's better at writing make that exist?? đ
well, I had that idea with a mafia princess deciding to lose her virginity so she's not a desirable match anymore, only to find out the man she lost it to is the man she was arranged to marry anyone
but I'd always love to fantasize about a god who takes your virginity as his anyway đđ€
You've been marked as the chosen, so the god already knew you would be the one spread on the altar for him. He kept an eye on you. When he figured out your plan, he decided no mortal would get the treasure promised to him.
