#because rent is too fucking high
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dirt-grub · 1 year ago
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There’s something so late stage capitalism about finally getting a $400 car from the year 2000 but it’s also on its last legs like my last one and the AC doesn’t work so I gotta drive to try job at the mall with the windows down and the smog entering my lungs lest I breathe the exhaust from the car. Also the car and insurance for the car used almost all me and my partners savings from the last 8 months. We work 3 jobs put together <3
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ehgood-enough · 1 year ago
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My landlord just upped my rent by the most he ever has because of “inflation” wtf inflation doesn’t change the cost of your mortgage.
Water rate hasn’t gone up.
Since I’ve been renting here he’s gone from working a very busy full time job and driving an old little Mazda and living in house down the street to early retirement, moved to one of the richer parts of town in a huge house and driving an Audi. Fucking “inflation” my ass
Mind you I don’t have a functioning sink in my bathroom and haven’t in over a decade. My fridge that he was totally going to replace after I moved in is still sitting in my kitchen with busted shelves and either being too cold or too warm no middle ground. Windows that don’t close all the way that he was totally going to replace ? Yep still not done just like the fridge over a decade later
I could go on and on. He’s literally fixed one thing the entire time I lived here. Replaced a toilet that had been leaking for I think 3-4 years possibly longer. I kept mentioning it but he kept saying oh ok he’ll get to it but didn’t bother until it became a serious issue
But yeah I can’t really afford to move so…..
But what an asshole move to raise the rent at the start of heating season because I can really afford more rent and the outrageous costs for heating that have gone up like mad
And of course I was just finally feeling like life had become somewhat stable for me heading towards better. Every fucking time I feel ok there’s something that ruins it
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no-context-nonsense · 2 months ago
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5:30am on a Saturday and the post is up? Unheard of.
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bloomingonionbitch · 7 months ago
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(I never watched Sex and the City when it was on, but I'm well into Season 2 and Lisa Gilroy's impression of Steve is haunting me beyond words!!!!!!)
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rotteneldritchhorror · 10 months ago
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I. Am filled with anti-capitalist rage.
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brick-van-dyke · 1 year ago
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It's gonna be 39C (102.2f) and we don't have an aircon fuckkk I hate Australian summers. Especially since, at least here, it's humid af as well.
#personal#vent#it's 29C today and I'm barely able to function im gonna die tomorrow#plan is to wake up at the asscrack of dawn and go somewhere that does have aircon all day#we can't even fix it ourselves because it's not our house and we don't have permission to like come on#like the mall or something#or the supermarket#just turning around in the frozen food department like a rotisserie chicken to be cooled down instead of heated#There's some places i can sit down and vibe that have at least some aircon#better than none#also fuck our real estate for refusing to fix stuff because it costs them money and they want to “”wait“” to be able to pay it#it's fucking summer and we're quite literally toast while they want to save more for christmas#like bruh#y'all are already rich as fuck at least pay off the investment of SHELTER YOU PROVIDE FOR VERY HIGH PRICES#when honestly shelter should be free but damn gotta buy that extra fucking ham or toy train set lest it spoil christmas#like damn imagine having a low key Christmas to save money while actually paying your bills it's almost like thats always us and for what#so y'all can complain you have it hard that we pay for your shit then act surprised you gotta maintain the thing we pay for??#asshats probably don't even look at their electricity bill and ration the damn aircon and fans as if using too much means losing them ffs#anyway fuck the rich and this system that is centred around making basic shelter a commodity#rent is such a fucking scam and buying is like owning a black hole to throw your living expenses into if you dare to own your own shelter#housing should be free and this cabalistic capitalist system is a fucking nightmare#anyway back to the og point lol#it's fucking hot and i want winter back#Australian winters are so mild and great its like spring in other countries i think#spring here is also a nightmare of rain heatwaves and cold fighting in a parking lot so it's not nice here#but winter??#nice and cool and mild#wish it was always less than 23C all the time that'd be amazing#i don't remember what that is in fahrenheit but yeah
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bombusbombus · 1 year ago
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How long can I procrastinate learning how to shave before I look like shit... 🤔
#sometimes I wonder if I should have a personal ramblings tag#but I also want to weed out my weak followers#this was supposed to be my sideblog where I'm absolutely feral ham unhinged & nobody knows me#if my follower count gets too high I might get self conscious. so. rent lowering personal posts#if you cant take me at my random 11:30 thoughts you dont deserve me at my#uhhhhhhhh.#:T#either way I cant ask my dad to teach me how to shave because my dad's idea of skincare is a chunk of pumice and a bar of handsoap#he dorsnt use shave gel or shave cream he does that shit DRY. IN HIS CAR BEFORE WORK#he buys disposable 2 bladed razors in 10 packs for like $10 and they get rusty so fast#actually y'know. I could probably teach myself how to shave just by doing everything he isn't#either way I only have 2 beard hair. nobody can see#they can probably see the half inch long military grade peach fuzz in my sideburns zone but that's an acceptable level of scrungly#it's all blond so far anyways so hard to see#if it starts coming in red (it will probably eventually be red) it'll stand out more and I'll have to shave more often 🥲#if only MY VOICE WOULD BREAK#cute person came up to me and said hi and complemented my cloak on the street and I replied#but my voice was so squeaky and they immediately left and I was left thinking like#did theh assume I was a 14 year old boy. they must've assumed I was a 14 year old boy. fuck#I'm 21 I PROMISE I'm just doing second puberty. like a hobbit#either way if you ever see me putting all my thoughts in the tags it's cause I have a bad case of “don't take up too much space”#which is stupid. but growth is a nonlinear process
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robotpussy · 2 years ago
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ok after having a good cry and a scream and a rant and a pillow punch I'm looking at the bright side of this eviction 💕💕 IM FINALLY GETTING OUT OF HEREEEEEE
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cyphyra · 2 years ago
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might be a little late now but i think ive discovered what i actually need to do for a new year's resolution: teaching myself not to be a perfectionist
i constantly keep thinking as im working on comms (especially with new clients) like "oh god i hope this looks ok i dont want to give them something they don't think is good enough" but it's like. clients actively kinda know what to expect, already, and my process is literally sketch > payment > finishing so they already know roughly what the finished product will look like, it's just a matter of time to make it happen and the things i deem as mistakes and do over 1000 times probably aren't even perceivable to viewers
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louhearted · 1 year ago
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not so ironically considering deferring my master to next year. like i really really do not want to and deep down i know i’ll regret it but also i cannot for the life of me concentrate on anything and my one prof keeps mentioning the option to defer at the end of every email and like. stop dangling it in front of my face. i can DO THIS. i can. I CAN.
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skankhunt44 · 1 year ago
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Well ain't that just a peach
Same economy as Europe in... let this sink in... the 18th century... that's the 1700's. But yes, continue to tell me capitalism is da whey.
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weirdo-with-a-nametag · 1 year ago
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I feel like there's so much your parents are supposed to teach you how to do, and mine didn't. Some of it they assumed I already knew (?) Or punished me for not knowing (??) And now I'm out here clueless. There is a lot that I do not feel I have the knowledge or ability to handle. Where is the support you promised?
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homiro · 4 months ago
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[First picture ID: A waterboarded screenshot of text that reads, Not to doom post on main but yeah my boyfriend and I bring in approximately two hundred and forty thousand united states dollars, live in an apartment that is extremely reasonably priced, with minimal living expenses, and still have to buy cereal on sale and all my clothes second hand. Things are hard even for the successful (with the word successful between inverted commas) young adults (ellipsis). End ID]
[Second picture ID: A screenshot of a sarcastic post from twenty thirteen made by user @/dril, wint on twitter that reads, in a list, Food is two hundred united states dollars, Data is one hundred and fifty united states dollars, Rent is eight hundred united states dollars, Candles are three thousand and six hundred united states dollars, Utility is one hundred and fifty united states dollars. Someone who is good at the economy please help me budget this. My family is dying. End ID]
observing the responses to serialunaliver's parental income poll and finding that a lot of tumblr users are struggling to reconcile with the fact that they are middle class and above
#described#that first post is just insane even if you take into account the costs of living in the US#how can you say you're struggling with that income lol that's a cushy life and honestly i don't believe the second hand clothes part#even i get new clothes and stuff sometimes and i have been wearing hand me downs and second hand stuff my whole life#my househould's gross income per year is around 20k euros#that would be 121 160 ish in reais#and that's because two members are disabled and get a pension#my mum works at a factory five days a week from 8am-5pm and makes 1k-ish a month#my brother and i can't find a job because there are no jobs#and in my case i'm overqualified and mentally disabled and they won't offer accommodations lel#and we get the end of the month with little more than 200 euros to make it to the 8th of the following month#which is when the money comes in#we don't pay rent because we came to live at my grandma's house so we just pay the annual fee since the house was made in the late 60s#but the cost of living is too high welp#groceries are expensive petrol is expensive as fuck the car is old (1995 old) and always breaking down#my mum and sperm donor had to declare bankruptcy because of schemes he was up to so now she can't have anything in her name#and i'm just honestly a lost cause i started a phd bc i didn't know what to do with life and now can't even pay for tuition#and not to mention that it's not just the utilities we also spend a ton of money with medication and appointments and shit so like yeah#we need to take into account the costs of living in places but in my case i really am broke and my family is and always has been poor#it's not dissonance believe me#im also the joker welp but lately i've just been feeling like im a lazy freeloader who should have been left to die#when i wasn't born breathing and then turned out to come all broken lel but it is what it is#negative#money things#homiro said some shit#long tags
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bucksangel · 3 months ago
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run little bunny
pairing: softdark!ceo!bucky x naive!assistant!reader
word count: 8.6k
summary: Being John Walker’s assistant is hard; he’s mean, disrespectful, misogynistic, the whole nine yards. On top of that, he hardly pays you fairly. So, when you’re fired for a mistake you’re sure wasn’t your fault, you’re at risk of being kicked out by your rude roommates. Luckily for you, James Barnes, a wildly successful CEO, has found his way into your life. And he’s going to take such good care of you.
warnings: where do i even start, 18+, minors DNI and i fucking mean it, mild coercion, some of it could be interpreted as stalking, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, sir kink, oral (f receiving), housewife kink, breeding kink, pet names (bunny, darling), dirty talk, dom!bucky and sub!reader, choking, squirting, basically just absolute filth, a little hurt-comfort, reader’s roommates are awful and mean, not john walker friendly but when am i ever
a/n: so this was supposed to just be some quick smut but as always i went overboard, so please enjoy! likes and comments are appreciated, reblogs are even better!
tip jar | main masterlist | ao3 | run little bunny masterlist
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Your hands are shaking slightly, your heartbeat races with anxiety, and your leg bounces rapidly. Today is an important day after all, and your boss has made it clear that if you mess up in any way then he’d have to rethink your employment. That sent dread flooding through your body, so you’ve been preparing yourself for the last week to make sure everything for the meeting is perfect.
And, on the technical side, everything is immaculate - mostly due to you staying up until almost midnight each night to polish the presentation. You thought everything was done properly, but when you’d walked into the building that morning your boss was holed up in his office finishing up his portion of the work, so you’d decided to simply email him to let him know that you had arrived.
Everything was perfect. But when you get into the meeting room, your boss’ eyes go wide, anger clouding them while he scowls. You quickly make your way to his side, only for him to bark out a command for you to grab water for his incoming guests. Placing your notebook on the table, you turn to scurry off to the side to grab the glasses, but you’re stopped when your boss grabs your arm harshly.
“Do you have a change of clothes?”
“Um… Um, I-“ Your boss raises an eyebrow, and you feel like you might throw up from the sudden anxiety. “No, sir.”
He scoffs, muttering under his breath something about looking “trashy,” before releasing you and allowing you to go to the minibar.
Your arm stings, no doubt sporting a red mark because of how harsh the grip was. You’re also confused because you thought the floral dress you’d chosen was pretty. Sure, it may not be high class, but your boss has never had a problem with it before, but you’re assuming that he’s on edge due to who he’s meeting with.
James Barnes; the most powerful and successful CEO in the entire country. You haven’t met him personally, but from what you hear you know that he’s not someone you want to upset. According to the hushed whispers around the office, he stands at a towering 6’6, tattoos cover his arms and hands, and if he frowns then you better move out of the way.
Would Mr. Barnes be upset with your attire?
You desperately hope not, because you need this job. While you can barely make your rent and utilities, you don’t have any other job lined up, and you’re way too scared to ask for a raise from a man who so clearly disrespects you. For right now, though, you’re stuck.
The oak doors open, and one of the office assistants steps off to the side while holding the door open for several men to walk in. You hear him before you see him. You’ve never heard his voice, but the commanding tone he uses when he addresses your boss lets you know that it must be him.
“Hello, Mr. Walker,” Mr. Barnes greets him, and you can hear your boss stand and greet him as well.
You’re trying your hardest to keep calm while you walk toward the table with a platter holding several glasses of water. You do your best to place them in front of the men without showing how nervous you are.
But when you get to Mr. Barnes, you nearly spill the drink all over the table once you get a whiff of his clearly expensive cologne. Oh, how you’d love to be surrounded by that scent, the woodsy smell almost intimidates you but you’re unsure as to why you don’t mind.
You’ve never done anything even remotely sexual with a man, you’re far too awkward and anxious in a way that isn’t too appealing to many, but for a very brief moment, you wonder what he looks like underneath the black three-piece suit — the prominent veins on his hands insinuates that the rest of his body is probably just as toned. But you’re immediately snapped out of your thoughts by your boss’ harsh voice calling your name.
“Aren’t you going to greet our guests?”
You breathe in sharply, heat flooding your face as you stumble your way through an apology and a polite “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”
You’re about to leave his side when he reaches out to grasp your hand — surprisingly gentle for such a powerful man. With a slight jump, you glance over to your boss who’s staring at you as though you’re becoming a nuisance and should quickly get back to your chair beside his. But you can’t, both because of Mr. Barnes’ hold and the fact that when you look back at the man in front of you his ocean-blue eyes pull you in, and you’re unable to break your gaze.
“And who might you be, darling?” His eyes twinkle with mischief but you’re too blind to see it, you’re too flustered to really focus.
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about her, she’s just –”
“I wasn’t asking you,” Mr. Barnes snaps, briefly glancing at your boss and not bothering to hide his smirk when he almost visibly cowers. “Now, darling,” he continues, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “What’s your name?”
You nearly squeak, having to force yourself to tell him your name before he gets upset with your lack of answer.
Mr. Barnes hums, then brings your hand up so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”
You flounder for a moment, unsure as to what to make of the compliment. You don’t have much time to overthink it because this meeting has a time limit and you’re sure your boss would prefer to get this over with.
“Th-Thank you, sir.” You’re not sure why, but your voice is breathy because something about that word — sir — just feels right for him, though you’re not sure what it means.
“So polite,” He mumbles to himself, and his eyes seem to grow darker. Finally, he lets you go, shooting you a wink and smirking to himself when you scurry off to sit next to your boss.
The presentation went relatively smoothly — thank God. You don’t know what you would have done if anything went wrong. In fact, Mr. Barnes seemed extremely invested in what you had to say, catching your gaze several times and causing you to stumble over your words a few times, only for your boss to clear his throat and glare at you. Eventually, Mr. Barnes throws him his own glare, silently telling him to shut up, to which your boss finally does.
Once the meeting was declared to be over, you were quick to close your notebook and tuck your pen behind your ear, then you went around the table and started collecting the now-empty glasses. As you’re running around the room trying to clean up, you can feel a powerful gaze boring holes into your body, but you try not to pay it any mind. It’s probably just your boss anyway.
But when you turn away from the desk to finally leave, you bump into Mr. Barnes, your body nearly slamming into his very sturdy chest. His hands shoot to your hips almost immediately, helping to steady yourself.
The warmth of his body pulls you in, but that might also be because Mr. Barnes is literally bringing you closer to his chest by the hold he has on your hips. And that’s when you realize that your hands are clutching his shoulders, but you can’t find it in you to let go.
“What’s the rush?” He asks playfully, his upper lip quirking up in a smirk. “You’re running around like a little bunny.”
“Oh, oh I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes.” You’re not sure why you’re apologizing, you recognize that he’s just teasing, but something in you doesn’t want to disappoint him. 
“Mr. Barnes.” He hums, his eyes briefly glancing down to your lips. “I like it when you call me that.”
Now you’re really flustered, your face heats up and you have to do everything in your power not to faint — the way his voice deepens is doing something to you and you don’t know how to handle it.
“I’d like it a lot more if you called me James, though. Can you do that for me, bunny?” 
“Ye-Yes, James.” You might have been embarrassed about how quick you were to answer him, but the way he closes his eyes and tightens the hold he has on your body you’re thinking it was the right decision.
Mr. Barnes — James — opens his mouth again, but is interrupted by the door being opened by one of the office assistants, whose eyes immediately go wide in shock. It seems to take a second for her to gather her bearings, but she recovers soon enough.
“Mr. Walker is requesting you,” She tells you, glancing over at James and giving him a nervous smile. “He says you have to file all of the paperwork for the meeting.”
You sigh, you’re tired of having to do everything for your boss only for him to take credit ninety percent of the time. But, it’s what you’re paid to do, so you suck it up. 
Looking back to James, you give him a shy smile, reluctantly removing your hands from his shoulders. 
“Um, I guess I should go, James.” You’re a little sad, and you don’t quite know why having to leave him and go back to your duties makes you so anxious. It could be because Mr. Walker is mean, or maybe because James makes you feel safe. In reality, it’s probably a mixture of both.
“I guess you should,” He murmurs, removing one of his large hands from your waist so he can cup the back of your neck and pull you closer, only for him to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.
And absolutely no one can blame you for the quiet whimper that leaves your lips, even though you are surprised by your reaction. It doesn’t matter though, because he finally moves back, letting go of you and reaching into the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket so he can pull out what looks like a business card.
“Here,” James says, handing it to you. “In case you ever want to talk, you’re always free to call me.”
“What would we talk about?” Your confusion causes James to chuckle, and he seems amused by your naivety.
“Whatever you want, Bunny. Whether you just want to talk about nonsense or vent about your boss. Doesn’t matter to me as long as I get to hear your beautiful voice.”
With that, he gives you a wink, then turns to the door and leaves, though he does glance back at you. With one final smile, he leaves, and you’re left with a million racing thoughts while standing in the middle of the meeting room.
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It took three days for you to finally reach out to James. As soon as you got home that night you ran to your bedroom and added his number to your phone, going so far as to put his business card in your bedside table drawer so you wouldn’t lose it. It just took a little time to gain the courage to actually contact him. After all, what if he was just being friendly? You’ve never met anyone quite like him, so it’s hard to read into his actions.
But today had gone horribly. The café you frequent before work was so busy that you didn’t have time to grab your coffee without being extremely late, the bistro you were demanded to pick up lunch from was closed — and while it wasn’t your fault, Mr. Walker certainly seemed to think it was. Your workload was piled high and by the end of the day, you were on the verge of crying due to the stress and mean comments thrown at you by your boss.
You need a shoulder to lean on and, unfortunately for you, you don’t have anyone else to go to. You’re pretty sure your roommates hate you and only let you live with them because they haven’t found a new roommate yet, you don’t have siblings and your parents are states away, and you have maybe a few friends, but even then the communication is scarce.
You need a shoulder to lean on, and James offered his, so you finally decided to pull up his contact and start a new message. It takes several minutes to figure out what to say, but you eventually settle on something simple.
Hi, James. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Mr. Walker’s assistant. You gave me your number in case I ever wanted to talk.
You hit send and stare down at your phone anxiously as you wait for a reply. A minute goes by, then two, suddenly five, and then you’re starting to regret texting him, what if he doesn’t remember you? What if he’s busy? What if – 
Your phone starts ringing, James’ name popping up on the screen and taunting you — almost commanding you to answer.
“Hello?”
“Good evening, bunny,” James says softly, and if you press your ear close enough to your phone you could pretend that he’s right next to you.
“Hi, James. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Your voice is soft and timid, you’d hate to disrupt anything he’s doing.
“Don’t be silly, bunny,” He says, his smile evident in his tone. “I always have time for you.”
“Oh, um. Thank you, sir.” It’s almost indescribable, but you can just make out the soft curse James lets out, followed by some shuffling.
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
You’re a little apprehensive, but with James’ gentle encouragement, you’re able to get everything off your chest, complaining about your day and everything that went wrong. Each word spoken feels like weights lifting off of your shoulders, allowing you to breathe easier every time James hums. He doesn’t interrupt you, which you greatly appreciate, and by the time you’re done, you fall backward onto your bed, relieved.
“I’m sorry you had such a bad day, bunny,” James coos with his smooth-as-honey voice, filling your body with warmth and comfort. “A pretty girl like you doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.” That comment floods your face with heat and you shuffle up the bed to lean against the headboard.
“Oh, I - thank you, sir.” There it is again, sir. James exhales slowly as though he’s trying to control himself from doing something he shouldn’t, and part of you is momentarily worried that you’ve upset him somehow. You don’t want to disappoint him.
“What can I do to help?”
What can he do to help? You’re not quite sure, you’re not sad, and you’re not angry, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t need at least a hug right now. But, it would be too imposing to ask, right? There’s no way he would be willing to come over – that is, if your roommates would even allow him over. And he certainly wouldn’t invite a stranger into his house. So, you lie to him.
“Oh – Oh, no, James, I don’t – you don’t have to – it’s fine –”
“Bunny.”
Your mouth promptly closes, taking a deep breath through your nose and exhaling slowly.
“Sorry, James.”
“Don’t be sorry, bunny.” There’s some shuffling in the background as he talks and you can’t help but sigh at how sincere his voice is. “Now, what can I do to help?” And before you can even open your mouth he’s talking again, “Don’t say nothing, because I know there’s something you want.”
You’re silent for a moment, stewing over how to tell him. But, he’ll probably just be empathetic and say something along the lines of ‘I’d hug you if I were there right now’. So, you decide to just spit it out.
“I guess I just want… I just need a hug, I think,” You sigh, feeling a sudden sense of loneliness. It’s hard not having anyone to talk to, to be isolated even from the people you live with, to be put down time and time again, and not have anyone to support you.
“Where are you?” James asks, and you hear some more shuffling in the background, followed by the jingling of what sounds like keys.
“I’m at my apartment,” You say, confused. He couldn’t possibly be coming over, could he?
“Send me your address and I’ll come pick you up, we’ll go out for ice cream,” James says decisively, and you can tell he doesn’t want any protesting. “Bunny,” He says when you don’t say anything. “You need cheering up and I’m here to do just that. Please send me your address.” He speaks gently but once again, he doesn’t seem to want you to argue against it.
“O-Okay, I will.”
“Good, I’ll see you soon, bunny.” When you bid him goodbye, he hangs up, and you’re quick to send him your address, giving him instructions to text you when he arrives so you can meet him out front of the building.
During the next twenty or so minutes you’re practically running around your room trying to make yourself look presentable. You cried all of your makeup off so you opt to just wash the rest of it off, and then you pull your hair back and away from your face. It takes a bit to decide what to wear, after all this is just a friend taking another friend to get ice cream, but this is also James Barnes; he has more wealth than you could possibly imagine. You want to impress him and appear grateful for his friendliness, and looking at least half-decent would achieve that.
Finally, someone knocks on your door, yelling, “Someone’s here for you!”
With a rush of excitement, you grab your phone and wallet and slip on your shoes, then make your way out of your room to the front door where another roommate is standing in front of it, leaning against the frame and giggling at the person.
James.
He looks bored, almost like he’s trying to appear interested but can’t quite muster up the energy to do so. When you approach, he lifts his head, a wide smile crossing his face.
“There’s my little bunny,” He says confidently, completely ignoring your annoyed roommate. “Come on, let’s get you cheered up.”
With that you walk to him, timidly accepting his outstretched hand and letting him gently tug you into the hallway. When you turn around to tell your roommate that you’ll be back later you can’t even get a word out before you see her glaring at you and shutting the door — the click of the lock is audible through the empty hallway.
“Are they always like that?” James asks with a tone that conveys concern.
“Like what?” You know what he’s talking about, but you hate acknowledging it.
“Rude and disrespectful.” He is so blunt that it causes you to look down in embarrassment to avoid his intense gaze.
Yes, you want to say, they’re awful. You want to shout from the rooftops that your roommates are horrible to you, but you’re just too scared to do it.
“Oh – Oh, no, they’re just…” You trail off, peeking up at James to see the disbelief in his eyes. When you look down again, he brings up one of his hands to cup your cheek and guide your head up so you can look at him head-on.
“You don’t need to lie to me, bunny. I want you to trust me.” James sighs, leaning forward and placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Come on,” He squeezes your hand, smiling softly at you as he starts walking you out of the building and to his car.
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It doesn’t take long to get to the ice cream shop, only a five-minute drive, and when you get there James keeps the car locked as he gets out so he can circle around to your side and open your door for you.
“Th-Thank you,” You say as you put your hand in James’ outstretched one, letting him guide you out of the car. He keeps his hold on your hand as you walk into the shop, going so far as to thread your fingers together while you wait in line.
The image of your hand encompassed by James’ large tattooed one has your tummy fluttering with butterflies. But, you must have been staring for a little too long because you’re broken out of your trance by James gently squeezing your hand.
“Is this okay, bunny?”
“Yes!” Heat floods your face as soon as you say it, feeling embarrassed by how quick you were to answer. “I, I mean. Um… Yes, it’s okay.”
James smirks at you, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. But, before you can stew in your shame, the man behind the counter says, “Next!”
You walk up to the counter, letting James order before giving yours. And when it’s time to pay, James doesn’t even drop your hand while he fishes his wallet out of his pocket and takes out his card. Your tummy flutters once again.
“Come, bunny.”
With your desserts now in hand, James leads you to a corner booth, only letting go of your hand so you can scoot in. He sits across from you, looking at you with what can only be described as thinly veiled hunger. It’s not off-putting, you just don’t know what it means.
“So, um…” You trail off looking down at your bowl of ice cream, fiddling with the spoon they gave you.
“You don’t need to be nervous, bunny,” James coos, reaching over and placing his hand palm up on the table, and you’re helpless but to take it, practically aching to feel his warmth again. “Now, other than everything that happened today, how have you been?”
It’s surprisingly easy to fall into a pleasant conversation with him, he asks questions and lets you finish talking before adding his own input, and he doesn’t break eye contact. It feels like he’s really listening to what you’re saying, and it’s almost freeing to have someone in your corner, someone you can trust and depend on.
What feels like far too soon, though has probably been several hours due to how dark it is outside, the man behind the counter comes to your table to tell you that they’re closing soon, and you can’t help but be sad. You’re enjoying James’ company far more than you probably should since you’ve only known him for a handful of days. It almost seems like you’ve known him your whole life.
“Well, bunny. I guess it’s time to go,” James says remorsefully, getting up out of the booth and reaching out his hand to help you out of the booth as well. He keeps holding your hand while you walk out of the door — making sure to throw away your trash on the way out.
James insists on opening the car door for you again — ever the gentleman. There’s a comfortable silence on the drive back to your apartment, your stomach swirling the entire time because James refuses to drop your hand. But when you get to your apartment building, a small amount of anxiety settles inside you, and you’re desperately hoping your roommates are asleep because you don’t feel like dealing with them after you’ve had such a good evening.
The silence is a little more tense while you ride the elevator up to your floor, but you’re grounded by James’ touch. It’s not until you get to your front door that you really look at him, staring into his twinkling eyes. And when he smiles, it settles your nerves.
“I guess this is the end of our night, bunny,” He says, squeezing your hand one last time before dropping it. Before you can mourn the loss of his touch he’s wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close to his chest, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hear the squeak you let out. You wrap your arms around his waist, letting James tuck your face into his neck while he holds you close.
“I had a wonderful time tonight,” James murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.
“Me too,” You say softly, breathing in and inhaling his comforting scent. “Thank you for cheering me up.”
“Of course, bunny. I’m always here for you.” Then, James pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Always.”
You can’t help but smile. His gaze is hypnotizing, pulling you in and almost refusing to let you go.
“Thank you, James,” You breathe out, and one last time, James squeezes you and kisses your forehead, then steps back.
“I’ll talk to you soon, bunny?” James asks, smiling wide.
“Y–Yeah, I’ll text you. Or you can text me. Or call, that’s–that’s fine too.” Heat floods your face in embarrassment, but you don’t feel too bad about it because James only smiles wider, nodding once.
“I will.”
“Goodnight, James.” With that, you turn and unlock your door, turning around to look at James one last time as you shut the door.
“Goodnight bunny, I hope you have dreams as sweet as you are.” James winks, and you swear you can hear him chuckle when you squeak out an “o-okay,” and shut the door.
And maybe James is some kind of wizard because you have the best night of sleep you’ve had in a while.
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For the next few weeks you and James text almost every day, and talk on the phone every couple of days. You’ve met up with him a few times as well, accepting his invitations to lunch or coffee. Each outing would last for several hours, too enraptured by his… everything to be the one to suggest the night should end. You’ve come to trust him, you know with a possibly concerning amount of certainty that James would do everything possible to keep you happy and safe.
Roughly a month and a half after meeting James, you’re sitting on your bed in the same position you were in when you first called him crying. Unlike last time, though, you don’t hesitate to call him. He’s told you time and time again that it doesn’t even matter if he’s in a meeting, he’ll always make time for you. You just hope that’s true.
He picks up almost immediately.
“Hello, bunny,” James says with the same soft tone he always uses when talking to you.
“H-hi, James,” You manage to say, before breaking out into sobs. You’re nearly hyperventilating, trying and failing to catch your breath between hiccups, and it takes a few minutes to calm down enough to hear rustling in the background on James’ end.
“Are you at home?” He asks with the utmost concern.
“Ye-Yes.”
“Stay there,” He says, using what you’ve deemed his CEO voice. “I’m coming to get you.”
“Ja–”
“Bunny.”
You sigh, knowing you can’t change his mind – not that you really want him to. You could really benefit from a hug right about now and James always provides the best ones.
“Can you at least stay on the phone with me?” Your voice is small, still sniffling every few words. You don’t think you could handle being alone with your own thoughts right now.
“Of course. You know I’ll do anything for you.”
It takes James twenty minutes to get to you, and he talks to you the whole time, just menial things to get your mind off of your sadness. When he lets you know that he’s at your apartment, you don’t even wait for him to tell you he’s coming up, you simply grab your jacket and slip on your shoes, then run to the front door without so much as a word to your roommates in the living room.
“James!” Upon seeing the man himself standing next to his car, you fling yourself into his arms, taking deep breaths to prevent yourself from crying in public. “Thank you for coming.”
“Bunny, how many times do I have to tell you that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep a smile on your pretty face?” James’ tone is teasing, but you know he’s serious if his stern and concerned gaze is anything to go by.
You nod, blinking back tears. It’s so nice to have a friend like James Barnes; kind, chivalrous, attentive. With the way he acts sometimes, you’d almost think he’s interested in more than friendship, but you always shake that thought off. He’s too handsome and wealthy to date some random personal assistant who’s barely able to make her rent.
“Come on, bunny,” James moves back but keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, leading you to his car and helping you in. Like always, he waits for you to sit so he can strap you in your seatbelt, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before shutting the door then running around to the driver's seat.
This time, instead of taking a left at the light at the end of your block, he keeps going forward, taking turns until you’re not exactly sure where you are.
“Um, where are we going?”
“My house,” James says casually, briefly glancing at you so he can give you that ever-soft smile.
“But, isn’t your house only twenty minutes away?” You’re confused, and a little curious as to what he’s talking about.
“I only stay there when I have meetings in the city. I have a house a little further out where I live most of the time. It’s a little more lived-in, so I want to bring you there where you’ll feel a little more…” James pauses for a moment, glancing at you again. “At home.” His explanation makes sense in your brain, quickly squashing any nerves that you had. He’s rich, so of course he’d have multiple houses.
It’s almost an hour long drive to get to his house. Well, house feels like an inappropriate term for what it actually is. It’s more like a mansion, standing tall at three stories, a long driveway with trees lining either side of the road, and a luscious garden surrounding the property.
James helps you out of the car and guides you up the steps to the front door, where he unlocks it and lets you step inside. The moment you pass through the threshold your jaw nearly drops to the floor; a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling right when you step in and beautiful artwork adorns the walls. The open floor plan gives you a good view of the living room and kitchen from your vantage point, and you can’t wait to sink into the luxurious and almost comically large couch in front of the TV.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” James urges you further in, bringing you to the living room.
“Um, just water is fine.” You look up at him, smiling shyly and nearly tripping when he smiles back.
“I’ll be right back,” James says, watching as you sit and sink into the plush couch. “Make yourself at home.” The look in his eyes when he says it sparks something inside you, something warm and fuzzy. Thinking of James’ house as your home makes your tummy flutter, but you don’t understand why.
God, you need to get it together.
You’re left alone for a moment, and everything is quiet except for the fridge opening and the glasses clinking. James’ absence allows you a moment to breathe properly, being with him always leaves you flustered, though you can’t deny that some part of you likes it. You like his commanding nature, how deep his voice gets when he talks passionately about something, how warm his embrace is when he holds you for what might be a little too long, squeezing you like he doesn’t want to let you go.
“Here you go, bunny.” Suddenly, a glass of water appears in front of you, and you take it with a gracious smile and a small “thank you.”
“So,” He says, sitting next to you — really close — and throwing his arm over your shoulders, practically pulling you into his lap. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
Tears immediately spring to your eyes, suddenly remembering how horrible today was. You force yourself to take a couple of sips of your glass but your hand starts shaking enough to where James takes your glass and sets it on the coffee table in front of you.
“Bunny—“
His soft voice causes you to start crying, throwing yourself into his chest and burying your face in his neck as you sob out your troubles. James’ hand is warm on your back, rubbing it soothingly and squeezing you close to him. This time, he actually pulls you in his lap, you’re grasping the front of his sweater while he maneuvers your body so you’re straddling his thighs, and you can’t help but scoot closer so you’re sitting on him properly with your body flush against his.
A few minutes of crying later and your tears have finally slowed, your sobs deforming into hiccups until you calm down enough to hear James cooing into your ear, whispering sweet nothings. When you finally catch your breath, you pull back, staring up at James with wide eyes and a pout.
“I-I… I was fired! Fired! And I don’t know what I’m going to do! Mr. Walker just tossed me to the side because a document went missing and he blamed me, and now I’m jobless and my roommates are definitely going to kick me out because I can barely make my rent as it is. What am I going to do?”
James sighs, rubbing one hand up and down your back and keeping his other on your waist, though they manage to sneak up your shirt a little without your notice.
“I’m sorry, bunny,” He starts, giving you a comforting smile. “It’s awful that happened to you, and it’s not your fault, so don’t go blaming yourself like I know you want to.”
Your face goes warm with embarrassment. How is he able to read you so easily?
“And as far as your living situation, you’ll move in with me.”
“James!” Your eyebrows furrow, your head automatically shaking. “No, no I can’t do that to you. I don’t have a job anymore and I definitely can’t afford to pay you rent, I-I can’t burden you like that.” Even though it hurts to say it, you want to be honest with him. Because how on Earth are you supposed to pay him back for this?
“You’re not a burden.” You’re surprised by his angry tone, and his eyes darken as though he’s challenging you to say otherwise. “You’ll never be a burden on me, bunny. I’m offering you this, I don’t want you to pay me.”
As though he can sense your hesitation, he gives you a playful smirk.
“But if you really want to help, how about you do the cooking and cleaning? I don’t always get a good home-cooked meal, and it’d be nice to come back from work to see you in a cute little apron.”
This makes you giggle, a weight lifting off your shoulders when you nod timidly. “I-I can do that. I’ll do anything.”
And while you had pure intentions with that statement, James takes it differently, his eyes darkening even further as he nibbles at his bottom lip.
“Anything?” He smirks wider when you nod eagerly because that’s what you are. Always eager to please — especially please James.
“Yes, anything!”
James hums, seemingly thinking something over, before sliding one of his hands up the back of your shirt.
“How about you give me a kiss? I haven’t had a good one in a while,” While he sounds like he’s teasing, his face shows he’s anything but.
He really wants you to kiss him. And, well, it’s not like you’re going to deny him, you’re too grateful for his generosity. Plus, you’d be insane to pass up such an opportunity, he’s handsome, kind, and makes you feel safe. So, with only a little hesitation, you lean down and press your lips against his in a simple peck, but before you can pull away James groans, placing one hand on the back of your head to keep you steady.
His lips practically attack yours, his tongue invading your mouth and taking what it wants – you. You don’t even know it but you’re whimpering almost immediately, opening your mouth and letting James consume you whole. He’s smiling against your lips, biting your bottom lip as he retreats for a moment so he can stare up into your eyes.
“You’re so beautiful, bunny,” James whispers reverently like he’s hypnotized. And he’s not the only one. Your brain is quickly going silent, your sole focus is on James and how good he’s making you feel.
“Really?”
“So beautiful, I’ve always thought so.” His confession makes you whine, he thinks you’re beautiful, this gorgeous man with the deepest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Suddenly, James curses softly, grabbing your waist under your shirt, and that’s when you realize you’ve started subconsciously moving your hips against his.
“S-Sorry,” You mumble, though you’re not too sorry considering you can’t stop rolling down onto his lap, it feels too good.
“Don’t be.” James hums thoughtfully, leaning forward slightly and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Why don’t we go to my room? It’ll be more comfortable.”
You don’t even wait for him to finish before you start eagerly nodding your head, adjusting your legs as he stands so you can wrap them around his waist. He carries you to his room, smirking to himself the entire time because you can’t stop kissing and biting his neck in the hopes of leaving a mark, staking your claim. When you finally get there, James quickly shuts the door behind him and then drops you down onto the bed.
“Sir,” You whine when he doesn’t do anything, he’s only standing at the end of the bed, staring at you with eyes so dark with lust that you can’t see the blue of them.
“Don’t worry, bunny, I’ll take good care of you.” With that, he swiftly strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side, then undoes the button on his pants, slowly dragging down the zipper with a wide smirk at the haze in your eyes. “Do you want to help me?”
It takes a few moments for you to understand what he’s asking of you, but once you do you push yourself up, shuffling over to him until you’re sitting with your legs underneath your butt. For a moment you’re not sure what to do, you reach out for his pants but freeze mid-air because you just now realize that you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. You’ve never been in this situation before, your sexual exploits consist of goodnight kisses on the few dates you’ve been on, and your vibrator in your nightstand that has been working overtime ever since you met James.
“I-I’m sorry,” You murmur, embarrassment flooding your features.
“Why are you sorry, bunny?” James’ voice is soft, soothing your worries.
“I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never… been with a man before.” Your hands fall to your lap at the same time you hang your head. What if you disappoint him? You don’t know what you’re doing and you’d hate to mess anything up.
“I know, bunny. It’s okay.” James lifts your chin with his fore and middle fingers, guiding you to look at him again. “I’ll teach you everything.” His voice dips lower, his bottom lip getting trapped between his teeth when you smile, relieved.
“Now, I’m going to take off my pants, but I want you to take off my boxers. Okay?”
“Yes, sir,” You say quickly, eyes dropping to his crotch as he begins pulling the denim down, down, down until it pools on the floor. He steps out of them, then steps in front of you with his arms hanging by his side. When he raises his eyebrow, nodding to his underwear, you reach out for him again, this time with only a small amount of hesitation. Your nerves are nearly off the charts, but knowing that James is going to guide you makes you feel better.
Your hands are shaking slightly when you pull them down, and absolutely no one can fault you for the loud gasp you let out when he’s finally bare because holy shit. Despite being relatively anxious and naive surrounding sex, you’ve watched your fair share of porn, and while the men in them did usually have big dicks, they seem small compared to James’.
You’re almost frightened, how the hell is that going to fit inside you? James chuckles, and you realize you probably said that aloud.
“Don’t worry, bunny. I’ll make it fit,” James groans, reaching down to grab the bottom of your shirt. “I’m going to take this off now, okay?” He tugs it up and over your head once you give your consent, tossing it to the side and cursing when he sees the light pink bra barely covering your breasts. James is biting his lip so hard you’re worried he might draw blood, but you don’t pay it any mind because he’s soon urging you to lay on your back with your legs dangling over the edge.
“Gonna take these off too.”
Giving him a shy smile and a nod, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants, glancing up at you one final time to make sure you’re okay before he surprises you by pulling them off of your legs in one swift movement. You’re tugged down the bed a little, a shocked gasp leaving your lips.
“Fucking angelic,” James murmurs, dropping to his knees and placing his large, rough hands on your knees. He smirks when he sees your matching light pink panties, already soaking wet at the crotch. You have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering when he pushes your legs wide apart, but you can’t stop yourself from squirming when he doesn’t do anything else.
“James,” You whine, high-pitched and needy.
“Sir,” He reminds you with a raised eyebrow as though he’s daring you to say his real name again. And just for good measure, he surprises you by lifting up one of his hands and swinging it down onto your clothed pussy in a harsh swat, causing you to let out a loud moan.
“Sir! I-I’m sorry, sir.”
“It’s okay, little bunny,” James coos as he runs his hands up the back of your thighs so he can push them up and out, letting him get a good look at where you need him most. “Are you going to let me eat your pretty pussy?”
Even though it’s phrased as a question, you know James isn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. It’s not like you even want to tell him ‘no’, you’re too desperate for something, anything.
“Y-Yes, sir. Please.” Your begging makes him groan, and he quickly dips forward so he’s not even an inch away from your core, inhaling deeply and cursing again.
With a quick kiss to your covered clit, he twists his fingers into the band of your panties and rips them into pieces, and you know you’ll have marks from it. But you want them, you want evidence of this night, and you’ll gladly take anything he gives you. And no sooner than your panties off do James dive in, inhaling once more before his tongue sneaks out and licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.
It’s at that point that you know you’re well and truly fucked, because there’s no way you’re not going to become addicted to the feeling of his tongue dipping into your quivering hole, the way he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks it into his mouth, the way he groans into your pussy like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
And it doesn’t take long for your legs to start shaking, desperately trying to close around James’ head but not being able to due to his hands gripping your thighs and holding them still. The filthy groans he lets out are enough to make you cum alone, but then he attaches his lips to your clit again and gently bites down, forcing an obscene moan out of your mouth.
He lets you get used to the pleasure, switching between fucking his tongue deep inside you and flicking at your clit, and only when he decides you’re ready does he manage to slide his forefinger in your pussy all the way to the third knuckle.
“Sir!” You can’t help but yell. Yes, it stings, but it’s far outweighed by the pleasure of his tongue assaulting your pulsating nub.
He wastes no time in slowly sliding it in and out, wiggling it around until you whine loudly, letting him know he’s found that special spot. You’re too out of it to realize it but James is smiling, clearly smug at how he’s making you react. You wouldn’t care anyway, in fact, he deserves it. He’s making you feel too good, especially when he slips in his middle finger and spreads them.
“Oh god! Yes, fuck. Sir, yes,” You’re incoherent, blabbering nonsense because your brain is too foggy to form a coherent thought. James picks up the pace, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it as he thrusts his fingers directly at your g-spot.
“Sir! Sir, I-I’m…” As soon as he started, he stopped, pulling out his fingers and leaning back slightly with a wide grin. His chin is coated in your juices, and the gleam in his eyes shows you that you’re not going to be able to cum so easily.
“Not yet, bunny,” James says when you whine pathetically, trying to buck your hips up into his mouth but unable to do so because of his commanding grip now holding your waist. “I’m not letting you cum until I’m inside you.”
James then climbs onto the bed, guiding you upwards to lay your head against the plush pillows so he can lean over your body. With little preamble, he snakes his arms around your back to quickly unclasp your bra and allow your breasts to spill free.
“I can’t wait to watch these bounce,” James groans, palming one of them, twisting and pinching at your nipple. James just laughs when you hiss, because your soaked pussy is enough to tell him that you’re loving what he’s doing. 
“Bunny.” He says gruffly, and your eyes shoot up to meet his, though you can hardly see him because your vision is hazy, nothing matters except James. “Are you ready?”
You’re barely able to mumble ‘yes’, but you manage to do so, and James takes that as his cue to grasp the base of his cock and position it at your entrance. He places his other hand on your neck, lightly squeezing the sides to keep your eyes locked on his.
The pressure against your hole is immense, James telling you to breathe as he slowly pushes deeper. He stops about halfway through, giving you a moment for the pain to fade. He’s clearly having a hard time staying still but is cognizant enough to know you’re overwhelmed. It takes a few minutes of deep breathing before you finally nod, silently letting him know that he can move. And he does, pushing in all the way until his hips are flush with yours. Once again, he stills, leaning down to brush his lips over your cheeks and catch the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.
“H-Hurts, sir,” You whimper out, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him. And while your core is burning, James looks so damn proud that you’re taking him that it pushes away any discomfort.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No!” Even though you’re in mild pain you’re pretty sure you’ll cry if he pulls out, you need everything he can give you. “Please, don’t stop.”
“Don’t worry, bunny,” James coos, then tightens his grip around your neck ever so slightly. “I’ll give you what you need.” And as though a switch was flipped, James pulls back, pausing for half a second before thrusting forward.
“Ahhh!” Your mouth drops open as you scream, your arms coming up to claw at James’ shoulders and back as he gives you all he has.
And he has a lot to give. He puts his back into fucking you, keeping one hand around your neck and using his other arm to pull your left leg over his shoulder. Sweat beads at your hairline, your eyes stinging with tears, your whole body lit on fire. At this moment, nothing matters except the delicious burn between your legs, the way your body is shoved further up the bed with each of James’ powerful thrusts until it gets to the point where he has to place the hand around your leg on the headboard to steady you.
“Fuck, bunny, you feel so good. You’re so good for me.” James can’t stop mumbling praises, and even though you can’t really hear them, you feel them. Your eyes don’t move from his, even as he glances down to where your bodies are joined. “Fuck, little bunny. Your pussy looks so good stuffed full of my cock, knew you’d take me so well.”
“S-Sir,” You whimper, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts and digging your nails into his skin. But James doesn’t seem to mind if the way his whole body shudders and his hips slightly lose their rhythm is anything to go by.
“Are you gonna be a good little bunny and cum for me?” James moves his gaze back up to your face, chuckling when he sees how fucked-out you already are. Despite his hand still around your neck you manage to nod, little cries and whines escaping into the air every time James’ cock gets shoved against your cervix.
“Yeah, you are,” James continues, leaning over your body even more and shifting so the tip of his dick hits your spot with every thrust. “You’re going to squirt all over my cock so I can cum deep in your cunt. Gonna cum in you every day, keep you full of me, maybe even plug you up to make sure it sticks.”
You’re right there, your pleasure climbing higher and higher until you’re ready to fall off the edge. James’s next sentence sends you there.
“Fuck, bunny. You’re going to be the perfect little mommy to all the children I’m gonna give you.”
When you wake up, James will tell you about how you came so hard that you blacked out, squirting and gushing around his cock while he continued telling you how even more beautiful you’ll be when you’re pregnant, taking care of him and his home, how he knew you were the one for him from the moment he first saw you. Your things will already be moved into his house. New clothes chosen specifically for you will be hung up in his closet and the bathroom will be adjusted to fit your products. The kitchen is going to be filled with all the food you like. And your cat will be curled up in a miniature hammock in her very own room.
When you wake up, you’ll see how much thought James put into redecorating his home just for you.
And you’ll be too grateful for his kindness to question where he put your birth control.
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main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart / @buckysprettybaby / @sushiseoks / @heytheredelulu / @somnorvos / @ozwriterchick / @pxgeturner / @gentlelimerence
bucky taglist: @justsebstan / @myfavbuckyfics
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monstersflashlight · 4 months ago
Text
Bear daddy
This is @teratophilex fault.
Were-bear (POV) x gn!witch x gn!reader || oral sex, comfort sex (kinda), hair pulling, daddy kink
After his wife left him, he had to swallow his pride and move in with you and your partner, fucking rent prices were way too high to move on alone. That’s how he, a were-bear significantly older than the two of them ended up sharing a house.
And you two were so fucking pretty it was driving him insane to share spaces with you. He had known for a long time that he was bisexual, but never acted on it… It was another time, harder to suck a guy’s dick without being judged. But now… Now things were different, and it was driving him insane to live with the prettiest witch and the prettiest human he’d ever seen.
So he was a bit… Pent up.
That’s why, when the witch left the cabinet door open, he snapped at them, telling them to act like a fucking normal person. He saw the flash of hurt crossing their eyes and felt bad immediately. He felt like shit because it wasn’t their fault that he was so frustrated, he was just a perverted old bear living with the two best looking creatures that he might or might not want to rail until they were crying.
“Okay, daddy, calm down,” they told him, trying to make a joke about it. It didn’t make him feel any better.
Something inside of him, that had been dormant for the longest time, woke at that moment. “What did you just call me?” The edge of danger was right there, under the surface. They didn’t know what that meant for him, what that word did to him...
“It was a joke! Chill, dude.” You told him, trying to diffuse the situation. He ground his teeth together so hard it could be heard, making you nervous. They stared at you in silence, and a big smile grew in your pretty face. “Or maybe it wasn’t… Did you like it? Do you like when we call you daddy?” He grunted and you smirked. Caught. Fuck. “Do you want to punish us, daddy?” The innuendo in your voice made his blood boil and his dick to get as hard as marble. He grunted and you smirked bigger.
He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked between you two, his ears twitching on the top of his head. “Please, don’t do this to me.” He was suffering, trying not to be a pervert but wanting nothing else but to take you two on a bear-ride.
“What are we doing, daddy?” The witch said, equally smug and teasing. Approaching you slowly, and kissing the side of your neck, his hand traveling behind you and groping your ass. You groaned and he grunted, his dick getting even harder, already leaking. You two were playing with him and good goddess if he didn’t want to be played with. He wanted that more than anything else.
“You are starting something you don’t want to finish, behave yourselves.” He tried, but the smirk in your faces was very clear. Fuck, he was in big trouble.
“Who said we don’t want to finish it?” You asked, slowly approaching his big body. He felt massive in front of you, so tall that he had to look down when you were close to him. So close he could feel the heat of your body as you slowly touched his furry chest, caressing him, feeling him up and squeezing his big pecs.
“What?” He asked, confused as fuck.
The witch approached, too. Repeating the same movements and caressing his chest. They were bolder, so when they pinched his nipple, he groaned loudly, creating a butterfly effect and making both the witch and you to groan in response. The air was filled with sexual energy, saturated with it. To the point that you could almost touch it, taste it.
“I said what I said,” you told him, your hand rubbing over his other nipple.
He looked at you two in front of him, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Are you sure?” Your heart beating so fast he could hear it.
“Yes, daddy.” Your witch partner said at the same time you let out a soft: “We want to make you feel better, daddy.”
He pulled out a chair and sat down, looking at you squirming before him. “On your knees,” he ordered. You two almost tripped trying to fall to the ground as fast as possible. You looked sinful there, between his legs. And when he took his dick out, you two groaned, he was so fucking big. He looked good enough to eat. “So, I’m going to tell you how this is going to be, okay?” You two nodded, eager already. “I’m going to fuck your smart mouth.” He pointed at the witch. “And you are going to lick my balls.” You nodded eagerly, so aroused, your brain felt like underwater. “And then you’ll switch. So you both get what you deserve… a nice dick down your throat. Is that right?”
“Yes,” you said in unison.
“Yes, what?” He asked, looking down at you two like you were a gift from the heavens.
You two blushed and nodded slowly. “Yes, daddy.” A shiver of anticipation ran down his spine as he took the witch hair between his fingers and pulled softly.
You saw how your witch partner took him in their mouth, slowly bobbing up and down until they were fully settled inside. There were tears pooling at the corner of their eyes as the were-bear guided his movements, deep and steady, getting they breathe just enough to not faint. It was the best show you’d ever seen.
You were mesmerized by the movement of your partner’s head, their stretched mouth over his dick… He caressed your cheek and you looked up at him, questioning. He crocked and eyebrow, and you realized he gave you an order earlier. You blinked and launched for his balls instantly. You licked and sucked and, if his grunts and moans over your head were any indication, you two were doing a fantastic job at it.
“Switch,” he ordered.
He grabbed your hair next, his hand imposing but soft, his claws scratching your scalp in the best way possible as you took the tip of his cock in your mouth. He pressed your head down slowly, so slowly. He didn’t let you go faster, he was the one in charge and you could just wait and see what he did next.
He started easy, bobbing your head up and down but not too far, not too harsh… But at one particular good suck, he cried out and started going at it like a madman (or a mad-bear?). He fucked your face like a piston as you groaned and moaned, your partner’s face under yours, sucking his balls like they were his favorite snack.
The filthy sounds of sex were getting into your head and making you dizzy with desire. “Touch yourselves,” he said.
You pulled your head back until his dick was free. “But this is about you,” you said, your eyes teary after he hit the back of your throat multiple times. You looked like a mess, and it was driving him insane.
“It wasn’t a request, it was an order,” his authoritative voice did something to you two because next thing he knew both of you had your hands in your pants and were looking at him like he hung the moon. And good goddess if that wasn’t the best thing he had ever seen.
The two of you on your knees in front of him, face messy with saliva and tears and touching yourselves for him. He was on edge already just with that image. He grabbed your hair again and you opened your mouth, getting him to the back of your throat in one go. “Good, so good.” He chanted over you, making you grind your hips into your hand, so close.
He pulled your head back and grabbed your partner’s hair, holding you two close but away from his dick. He stared at you there, teary, messy and completely fucked out. He grunted, “come for me, now.” Just like if he clicked a button, you two came apart right there, kneeling on the floor between his legs.
When you came down from your orgasms, he asked, “look at me. Open your mouths, I want to paint you two like mine. I want to mark you.” His tone was feral, his fangs showing.
You groaned and your partner nodded eagerly, their mouth already close to the tip of his dick and their tongue out. You mimicked them, feeling naughty. He jerked his dick over your tongues, grunting and pulling at your hair like it was grounding him to earth. He came with a shout, warm cum hitting your tongues and making you groan. You kissed, sharing his come and making him groan like it pained to see you being naughty in front of him.
“We should do that again, daddy,” You told him, chuckling with a gravely voice, your throat sore.
“Yes, please,” your witchy partner agreed, their face completely pink.
“Yeah… Yeah, whatever you two want.” He sounded defeated, but the big smile in his mouth was more than telling.
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labyrynth · 2 years ago
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starting to think it’s time to move out 🙃
#moi#personal#my mom seems to be under the impression that i don’t have a job because i’m lazy and picky and my standards are way too high#when the reason i don’t have a job is because i’m actually trying to get a job in my industry. or even ADJACENT to my industry.#and nobody will talk to me.#like oh yeah mom you’re totally right that i should be settling for whatever shitty ass job pays $13/hr (but won’t pay overtime)#instead of trying to put my degree(s) to use#and since you want to dig into the little savings i have why don’t you just start charging interest on all the money spent on college?#clearly it was all a waste and i never should have gone to begin with#because now you’re constantly harping on me to take whatever shitty job i can get#sorry i was under the impression that you wanted me to go to college to get a GOOD job#if it was all un-fucking-necessary and you just wanted me to flip burgers then why didn’t you just say so from the very start?#like jfc i’m doing my best. sorry i’m not into the idea of paying $400 for a glorified networking event or whatever.#you see that’s kind of a lot of money to spend when you don’t fucking have a job and nobody’s hiring anyway.#did i SAY any of this? no. because i’m really trying to not be a petty asshole.#and because i am actually trying to be a real adult even if she doesn’t fucking think so#what i said was ‘i don’t want to think of you as my landlord. i know it’s semantics but it’s important to me.’#‘can we say that we put that money towards specific expenses instead of calling it rent?’#instead of pulling up monthly expenses she printed out A Masterlist Of Every Single Category We’ve Spent Money On In The Last Half Decade#and flippantly was like ‘you can call it whatever you want you just need to pay me.’#and then she got mad when i suggested we look at actual monthly expenses and said i was trying to give her homework#like jfc i didn’t say a word about the fact that she wants money#but oh no god forbid that money goes to actual expenses instead of just vanishing into her pocket#she always does this thing where she tells me i’m throwing a tantrum or i’m too volatile and she ‘always has to walk on eggshells’#and it just feels really gross and manipulative. i know i get mad easily and i can be dramatic when i’m upset#but she’s just constantly acting like i’m blowing up over nothing#like i can tell her explicitly ‘this thing you just said was offensive and hurtful and i’m upset by this’#and she accuses me of trying to ‘police her feelings’#and then she demands that i stop showing emotions on my face#i’m getting really fucking tired of this shit
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