#my mom didn’t like lying to us
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i come from a legacy of disliking religion though. my mom was raised vaguely lutheran and stuck with it until her teens because she liked singing in the choir even though she didn’t believe in god. then realized that she could just join a choir instead. my dad went to jesuit school and found it restrictive and miserable and as soon as he graduated he became a hippie. my grandma left the catholic church because they wouldn’t let her take communion after she divorced her abusive husband and she got involved in abortion rights activism. so i was raised with lots of stories but i wasn’t raised with any myths. there was nothing i was told that was a matter of faith, or was beyond questioning or criticism. i was never told someone would see and judge me in the privacy of my mind or when alone. i was encouraged to question authority figures, even my parents. i was taught that there are things we owe to each other, and we do our best to make sure they get done, and it’s okay not to be happy about it, and if you screw up you move forward, not suffer. i don’t feel like my moral education was lacking. i don’t feel a hole in my chest where god would fit. i feel like the first kid in class to know santa isn’t real
#i was never told there was santa either btw#my mom didn’t like lying to us#and she couldn’t find an explanation for why we got presents and poor kids didn’t that wasn’t just the truth#me and my brother were very concerned by the idea of someone watching us and breaking into our house#and she didn’t believe in telling us we were being surveilled and judged#so i was always the kid in class who knew santa wasn’t real#but y’all are getting a little old for this#my mom and i also have both thought and read and talked about religion being incompatible with women’s rights#so this was never going to work for me
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No offense to ppl who actually like fourth wing but it sound like a rough draft or bullet point for a book strung together. I don’t get why ppl were frothing at the mouth over this book
#may delete later#and maybe it’s not for me to get#to each their own#thank you so much readsbyrachel for reading so I didn’t have too#anti fourth wing#the amount of time violet says ‘my scalp prickles’ what does that even mean rebecca#it seem so under developed like why beside her sister telling her xaden going to kill her does she believe when he has done nothing to her#or to show her that he wants to kill her#why is the other dude in the love v so pathetic and not like a good grovel-ly pathetic#he’s just there to annoy us#why did this even need a love triangle not everything does#if she had spent less to try to convince us that this triangle was actually a thing she could’ve developed xaden and violet-#from misconception to acquaintances to mutual liking to awkward unlikely alliances#this isn’t enemies to lovers this is insta love solely on the fact that violet instantly liked him and wouldn’t stop being a creep#and thinking about him even when the next sentence is about how her mom kill his dad or how his family is responsible for her brothers death#anti rebecca yarros
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so um. my mom lied about that money thing and it was her idea. so she told me “your father wants you to pay out of your own pocket because he’s so mad :(( i’ll give you back some but don’t tell him it’s our little secret” instead of. asking me. like wtf what was the point of turning me against him like that, we could’ve talked about it if she thought i owed her money. i don’t know i feel so bad bc i thought we were getting along and she had stopped pulling this shit
#i feel very uncomfortable with the like. keeping it secret thing.#saying that she was ‘on my side’ when she didn’t want me to tell him because it would expose her weird fucking lie#i don’t know it doesn’t matter. i don’t have to worry about running out of money bc my dad offered to help with some stuff.#i feel like shit cause my mom lied to me even after two years of therapy and saying that she wanted us to get along#i moved back in with her i changed my address back and she’s still lying to me
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on the off chance that I do have to have brain surgery (the exact type I’d get is pretty routine and not ultra serious), can I make lobotomy jokes or no
#I mean. yall already know I will#I’m already overthinking shit and immediately jumping to the conclusion#of ‘brain surgery is inevitable’ even tho I haven’t even gotten any scans yet#and probably won’t until mid December or later but he wants it done as soon as possible#he also said that if i’m gonna be standing a while like at the grocery store#then I should have a cane with me to help me stay standing#and said to ignore everyone and tell them my doctor wants me to use it#so I’m gonna start having mom’s extra cane in the backseat everywhere I go#until we get the tests done#but god. I feel so seen and believed#he didn’t think I was ‘faking’ or lying#he himself saw me visibly shaking while I was just sitting there#and him and his nurse looked super concerned and went ‘is that normal for you?’#and when I said yes he gave me a look of ‘oh. oh god. something’s wrong with this kid’#yeah I’m panicking and scared about what else they could possibly find#but it’s gonna be ok. it has to be.
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Back off, kid.
Pairing: gojo satoru x reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : this is a part 2 but you don’t really ly need much context haha.
·:*¨༺ Part 1 ༻¨*:·
“You know you guys don’t really look alike.” You say as you bring your hands up and rearrange the tuft of hair to your liking, you hum when the other wise spiky persistent hair bends obediently.
While in-front of you there was a younger dark haired boy, face completely pink but doesn’t dare let any part of his body move from your touch. “We aren’t related so we shouldn’t look alike.” Fushiguro tries to act as normal as ever.
“You know he has been introducing himself as your dad in your PTAs.” you pull away with a smile. “Satoru says they get so shocked and think he is a teen-dad.” You laugh as you trail back to the memory, Gojo’s snarky comment on ‘If I’m Megumi’s dad then you’re his mom; Which makes you my wife~’ remains unsaid.
When you pull away, Fushiguro finally feels his body release tension and finally he lets out a sigh. He hopes Tsumiki comes back finishing her club meeting soon.
“Why are you sighing like a old man, Megumi?” You get up from cushion floor as you then proceed to sit on the nearby sofa and cross you legs, giving him a teasing smile.
Fushiguro looks away from you with a huff. “Just a small headache.” and maybe even a chest pain. Both caused by you.
You hum as you then let out a ‘ah—!’ as you then proceeded to smile and pat on you nap. “Come here.” You smile proudly.
Poor Fushiguro Megumi’s face burst into steam from the heat radiating off his face. “Like hell I can!”
“Megumi…” you said in a soft tone which make the younger boy flatter. “I’m not teasing, I’ll just give you a massage.”
The boy huffs and sits infront of his feet as he felt your gentle soft hands guide his head to you lap. His frown dissipates as he then lets out a sigh of relief upon the movement of your hands near his temple.
You let out a giggle to how Fushiguro was acting like an old man, maybe this is what happens to people who deal with Gojo on a daily basis. “How’s school? from next year you’re going to be a middle school student,megumi.”
It’s been a while since you visited, already finished with highschool and now acting as an active jujutsu sorcerer has kept you busy but still then you would always visit once a week, make them a good meal while also bringing in some groceries. You didn’t have to but you’ve always done it, your soul was so unwavering it warmed Fushiguro to his very core.
“I’ve been using the notes you’ve prepared for me so school is pretty smooth for now…” Fushiguro finally replied as he still doesn’t move his head from your lap, his eyes closed and arms crossed infront of him, cheeks with a rosey color.
“Thank god.” You beam, Fushiguro watches from the crack of his eyes. “It was actually my notes from back in the days. I always kept them with me.”
Fushiguro closes his eyes, the more he watches you the more he feels his heart constrict as if it ran a marathon. “y/n, I want to say… thank you—ugh!” The poor boy’s was pushed off your lap with a sudden but controlled push. “What the hell?”
“I’m so tiredddddd, y/n.” The voice almost purrs as there is a tuft of white hair on the plush of your thighs. You blink at Gojo who seemed to be looking at you from behind his bandages with a wide smiles plastered on his face. “Gimme a massage too~”
Fushiguro knows this scene too well.
Perhaps he wasn’t as subtle as he thought but any time he was too close to you, Gojo who is in his early 20s and almost a decade older than him always manages to throw him away. And now he watches you frowning and reprimanded Gojo for acting like that.
He sighs. “I’m leaving.”
You and Gojo quickly turn to his direction. You had a confused look to your face then it contours to something of worry. Was he mad at Gojo? Fushiguro could almost hear your thoughts.
Where as Gojo who currently has his head on his lap and one of his hand playing with your finger, give him a confused look before it turns into a full blown egotistical. ‘I won!’ smirk.
“Got homework.” Fushiguro turns and leaves.
“Satoru, you’re always acting like that to Megumi.” You say as you tear your hands away from his and then give his head a light ‘chop’.
“Then he shouldn’t touch what’s mine.” He huffs , as he closed his eyes and forms a sassy pout.
“What’s mine?” You question. “Did Megumi take something of yours?“
“No…Right now, it’s still with me.” Gojo opens his eyes, which makes your breath hitch. his eyes ever so beautiful as the evening glow assist its glimmer. “You know what I mean right?”
Your breath hitches and suddenly the room is much hotter,your heart races as it blooms in warmth.
Gojo’s face softens as he looks at your flustered face. “What I mean is… I’m in lo—UGH!”
“Sorry”
Suddenly a new enters the room, the same dark haired boy who left moments earlier. “My pencil slipped from my hand.”
“Megumi, you brat!” Gojo stands up, with currently a pencil stabbed on his forehead. Megumi threw it because he knew Gojo wouldn’t even think of letting his infinity be active when he was near you after all.
Gojo watches as Fushiguro gives him his usual deadpanned look before it turns into a full blown egotistical. ‘Hah! As if I’ll let you confess on my watch’ smile.
Taglist ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆。— @lysaray @thirtykiwis @sillysillygoofygoose @hotvinimon @olivianyx @anan-baban @shirabaee @genticcs
Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here
#IF YOU GO DOWN YOU GO DOWN WITH ME MEGUMI#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo imagines#gojo satoru imagine#gojo imagine#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo saturo#fushiguro x you#fushiguro fluff#Fushiguro megumi x reader#Fushiguro x reader#Megumi x reader#Megumi fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk gojo
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Sometimes the name doesn't matter
synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife. PART 3
pairings: Childe, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Wriothesley x fem!reader (separately)
tw: fluff, established relationship (married/engaged/mated), secret relationship, immortal reader in Neuvi's part
word count: 6.1k+ words
a/n: part 1 and part 2 can be read here!
Childe
Spurred by the whistles and a whip of a coachman three fine white horses are trotting along the snow-covered road, dragging a big sleigh. Made of the sturdiest wood and painted in red and gold, the construction is effortlessly sliding on ice crust, almost lulling you under all those warm blankets and furs Ajax has thrown over your half-sitting half-lying bodies. You are glad to have this instead of jolting in a carriage (not like it’ll even be able to ride through all this snow), sure to have an aching arse even under the thick sheepskin coat, and instead of whatever machinery your lover could’ve gotten his hands onto due to his position - otherwise it wouldn’t have been so romantic.
Resting your head onto his shoulder you sigh blissfully, puffing out a small cloud of warm air. The fluffy-looking firs, tall pines and naked larches are flashing past in a magical gleam of snow-covered branches; you think you see two grayish squirrels chasing one another on a tree on your left.
“Oh, little minxes. A couple of seconds later and that snow could’ve ended up on our heads.”
You giggle at the young man’s comment, taking your gloved hand out of the sable muff and reaching to adjust the hat with earflaps (which he once again refused to tie under his chin) on his head. Before you can retrieve, a bigger hand clad in mitten wraps around yours and brings it to the chapped pale lips. As if spellbound you watch him press a tender kiss just where your ring finger joins the palm - right where the engagement ring is hidden under the thick material.
Now it’s hard to tell if your cheeks are rosy from cold or the swirling emotions.
“A little bit more and we will be in Morepesok,” he says softly, deep pools of his blue eyes staring back at you adoringly. “I can’t wait to share the news with ma, pa, sisters and brothers…”
You know he’s written them a letter right after you said ‘yes” to him, too excited to wait. So excited in fact, that he couldn’t sit still in expectation for the response, so he solicited an impromptu week-long vacation with the help of Pulcinella, and here you are, on your merry way to his home village.
“I can’t wait for that too,” you smile, leaning up to peck his nose, eliciting the same smile from him. “But I worry a little - will they be happy for us? I mean, that it’s me who you are going to marry?”
“Absolutely!” He nods enthusiastically and you have to readjust his hat again. “They all love you very much, I promise you. And if I am being completely honest, mom and Tonia did keep asking me when I intended to make you my wife during the last couple of times we visited.”
“Wait, really? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was already planning a proposal at the time - didn’t want to spoil it by accidentally letting my tongue loose.”
It’s hard to believe that this man is one of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers. Childe is surprisingly good at separating his work and off work behavior, turning into a completely normal, maybe just a tiny bit unhinged, young man as soon as his family is involved. You know he’s built this facade to keep them and you away from harm, but you also know it comes from the heart as well.
“Then I can only hope we can bring the female members of your family to the capital soon - I want them to participate in the wedding dress shopping.”
You are immediately gathered into a tight embrace and your laughter is smothered by the fur on his collar. Yes, he is the Eleventh Harbinger, Tartaglia, Tsaritas’s soldier, Childe… But in moments like this he is just Ajax. Your Ajax.
His parents’ house meets you both with the quiet creak of the gates, the barking of two big fluffy malamutes outside, the clink of the horseshoe against the wood on top of the front door, the warmth of a well-heated inside and a bit taller than the last time you saw him Teucer, who runs full speed at his big brother, practically tackling him.
“Big brother is home, big brother is home!”
Ajax joyously laughs, somehow managing to take off his coat and dropping it to the colorful carpet at the front door before hoisting the exclaiming boy into his arms. Kicking off your felt boots to step from the anteroom, you watch with a smile as he squeals when your lover presses his cold cheek to the warm smaller one, squirming in the strong arms.
Not a minute later more of his siblings appear, closely followed by their mom - freckled, with her ginger with gray hair tied in a thick braid and an apron thrown over her green dress, the woman smiles brightly and, letting her children surround their brother, walks to you with arms spread, ready to embrace you.
“Mother, my clothes might be cold,” you try to warn her, but she doesn’t listen, hugging you anyway.
“As if it can affect me! Oh, I’m so happy to see you, my dear. How was your trip? Are you tired, hungry? I’m almost done with lunch, and in the meantime I can ask my husband to throw in the firewood and heat the bathhouse for you two.
“It’s very kind of you,” you smile, wrapping your arms to give her a hug in return. “But I think we’ll wash up in the evening - I really doubt Ajax’s sibling will let him go in the following couple of hours.”
Before she can say anything, a tall, wide man appears from the other room. His beard and hair are gingerly brown with gray too, thick brows naturally furrowed. By the rosy cheeks, the remnants of snowflakes melting on his hair and the choice of clothing you guess he’s just returned to the house through the back door - probably after chopping wood.
Upon lowering his gaze to you, his facial features smooth out.
“If it isn’t my son and a dear soon-to-be daughter-in-law!” His gruff voice booms across the house, immediately redirecting everyone’s attention to you and making you blush. “I knew Ajax was too impatient and would rather come to visit and bring his fiance along than wait for a response letter.”
As he moves to greet you properly and help with discarding the outer clothes, you notice your gingerhead whispering something to his siblings, to which they giggle and throw glances at you. Catching the gaze of your lover, you lift an eyebrow, as if asking ‘should I be concerned?’. But he only shakes his head with a smile and ushers everyone to the dining room.
However, the curiosity is getting better of you, as throughout the evening you keep catching the glances, watch Tonia whispering something to her mom, and the woman giving Ajax a ‘really?’ kind of look, but with a fond smile, and then his dad slapping his back with a boisterous laugh, saying something along the lines ‘I was the same way with your mom too’.
So you confront him once you are left alone in the room.
“Hey, foxy, what’s going on?”
“Hm?” He lowers the blanket that he’s just tucked inside the duvet cover and reaches for the sheets. “What do you mean, bunny?”
“Whatever you’ve been doing,” you put one of the pillows down and reach out for the other as well as the pillowcase.
“And what’s that ‘whatever’ I’ve been doing?” You don’t miss the sly smile finding its way onto his face. You huff.
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
The man hums, tucking the edges of the sheet between the mattress and the bed.
“Nothing you should worry about. I just asked them all to practice a little.”
“Practice?” Cocking your head, you throw both pillows onto the bed. “Wait, did you start planning something for the wedding?”
“Not quite. Rather for after it.”
Confused, but intrigued, you step closer when your lover sits down and beckons you, being dragged into his lap a second later. Blue eyes look at you in an unspoken fascination, as he leans forward to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth, prompting you to loosely wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“Since we are getting married, I deduced that it would be only right for my family to call you my wife. Thus I asked them to get acquaintanced with the term, so they could start doing it as soon as we are pronounced husband and wife.”
You blink at him once, twice. After the third time you exhale, shaking your head, but the lift of your lips doesn’t go unnoticed by your fiance.
“I should’ve known you’d pull something like this, I am not even surprised, let alone mad. But they could just keep addressing me by my name. Plus your siblings already call me ‘big sister’ and your parents made me an honor of acknowledging me as the ‘daughter’. It won’t change much.”
“But it will!” He pouts and you can’t resist the urge to pinch his cheek. “You will be my wife and I want everyone to help me show it! Does it bother you though?”
Looking into those uncharacteristically begging eyes, you really can’t deny him his little antics. Not like you were going to in the first place.
“No, no, I don’t mind, love. Honestly, it's very sweet how excited you are. Makes me look forward to it.”
“Yeah?” Look at him, smiling like a satisfied cat, who's had too much sour cream for its own good. His embrace tightens on you a little.
“Yeah.”
A beat of silence passes as Ajax enjoys the many kisses you pepper to his face, squeezing his eyes shut, grinning, boyishly eager for more.
“Do you think I should ask the whole village to do the same?”
“Ajax, no.”
Nuevillette
“Mother, do you mind helping me a little? I can’t reach over there…
“I’d be delighted, my dear.”
Neuvillette watches with a fond look as you put the tea cup down and stand up to walk closer to Verenata and assist her with whatever the potion maker needs. Your figure is ethereal, clad in the finest fabrics, flowing with every step and gently dropping as you crouch gracefully to hoist the melusine in your arms. From above the rim of his silver goblet the Hydro Dragon can't tear his eyes from the way one of your many “daughters” wraps an arm around your neck and reaches up, while the corner of your lips, which he can see from his position at the table, is turned upwards.
“Mother is so kind and patient,” Laume says just a step away from Neuvillette’s chair. When the man turns his head to look at her, there is Flo standing too.
“Yes, and she is so beautiful,” the other melusine sighs, clasping her hands together. “And she always brings us such nice and comfortable clothes…”
“Monsieur Neuvillette married a wonderful woman,” a couple more melusines nearby agree and there is a warm and fuzzy feeling takes place in the Judex’s chest.
Marriage… Such a beautiful concept humans came up with to validate the union of two. It begins with the wedding - a day full of happy tears and blissful smiles, shared vows to be together in sickness and in health, sweet claims of love and promises of joyful life ahead. Then this very life begins and for beings like you and your husband it’s a long, but welcome trip.
You’ve been claimed by each other for quite some time before the more ‘mortal appropriate’ ritual, and the melusines - the wonderful creatures Neuvillette once took under his wing - were aware and happy for your relationship. And it was actually their idea to hold a wedding too, once Sigewinne naturally asked how the two of you planned to introduce your bond in civil words to humans.
And it was their initiative to start calling you “mother”. With your actions you quickly became one for them anyway, and the girls actively sought your company when it was possible. Thus, such tea parties at the Merusea Village as today are a common occurrence (besides, you always welcome them because it's a great opportunity to dig your husband out of the pile of responsibilities he tends to bury himself under).
However, lately Neuvillette started noticing that when he heard the word leave the girls’ mouths, a strange feeling began rising in his chest. Even though not quite familiar with the concept of jealousy, the Judex was sure it was not the case - he loved when the melusines called you that. So, he could not really put his finger on why the action caused such an indescribable reaction.
He decided to observe. On his walks throughout the city, the man seeked the sights of parents with children to attentively listen and watch while leisurely passing by or stopping at the shopping booths to linger on the scene. He was quick to note that the interactions were hardly different from the ones between you and the girls - kids would call for their mothers in all the same tones: when happy, when asking for help, when seeking comfort and many other typical occurrences he’d seen a handful of times before.
What really caught Neuvillette’s eye was the way the parents behaved. And soon his focus shifted to the married couples instead. As reserved as the nobles seemed to appear, the ones in love still managed to slip a murmured ‘my dear’, or ‘beloved’ or ‘my sweet [Name]’ in their speech. All the things the Hydro Dragon was all too used to call you too, relishing in the image of your loving smile and joyfully crinkling eyes as you responded in kind.
But it is like a waterfall pours on him when a week later, after that tea party where he once again sunk deep in thought, a keen pointy ear makes out a simple word in the crowd.
"Wife"
Male’s heart flutters. The understanding quickly dawns on him, even more so when his eyes find the couple on the other side of the road, - it was no simple term to introduce the partner to the third party. No, the tenderly spoken word was used by that man to address his lover, to softly draw her attention to him, to remind her he is happy she is holding such a position in his life…
At least that’s what kind of puzzle pieces together in Neuvillette’s head. The couple is long gone, yet he is still standing there, hand resting on the handle of his cane and eyes staring into space.
He starts to remember all the sweet names he called you, each and every one stored in his memory with the heart-warming images of your reactions. There are all kinds of those: my love, my pearl, lizzy (affectionate from ‘lizard’; you used to tell him that dragons are just big lizards and it kinda stuck), kisses-stealer, fairy-tail nymph… The man is surprisingly creative with his words when it comes to you.
Sure, he calls you his mate, quite often too, but to his chagrin it has never occurred to him that he could call you ‘his wife’ too! It’s so simple, so absurdly logical, yet it took him weeks to figure out.
Humans are truly fascinating.
When Neuvillette returns to his office in the Palais Mermonia you are already there, lazing on a sofa with a bunch of papers, in which your husband guesses the script of probably another upcoming play of Furina. And judging by the more than a half pages turned you’ve been waiting for him for a while.
When the door closes and the cane disappears in the myriad of sparkling bubbles, you lift your gaze, and a smile immediately lights up your lovely features.
”Neuvi,” You speak softly, getting on your feet and leaving the script behind, “I hoped we’d depart on the afternoon stroll together. So imagine my disappointment when Sedene told me you had left just ten minutes ago! Oh, I knew I’d be late if Lady Furina had kept me for another minute, yet I still hoped I’d be on time…”
As you are approaching him, the Judex remembers the melusine’s words upon arrival: “Mother waits inside”. This makes all his previous thoughts resurface, and when he meets you half-way and reaches for both your hands to place a kiss to the back of each, Neuvillette has half a mind to try out his new discovery.
“Our Archon enjoys your company a lot, and, knowing you, you are not really mad,” you roll your eyes playfully, tiptoeing to peck the tip of his nose, murmuring a quiet ‘hush, let me be a tiny bit indignant’. “And I’d be honored to keep you company for the evening stroll,” and then, after a little pause of hesitation, he adds, “wife.”
He watches as the previously present smile on your face grows even bigger, but after a couple of seconds starts to fade slowly, eyes squinting a little bit to stare at him in hardly-concealed curiosity.
“What was that?”
“What was what, dear wife?”
“This!” As if to emphasize your words you point your finger to his mouth, and it’s Neuvillette’s lips’ turn to curl in a small smile.
“It’s something I hoped to discuss with you,” his gloved fingertips soothingly brush over your knuckles and soon your hand is clasped into his, as the man leads you both back to the sofa. “You see,” he starts when you sit down, “I am fascinated with the notion hidden behind the word ‘mother’ the melusines like to call you. That’s who you are for them both in reality and in terms. I’ve made some observations, and figured that sometimes humans in marriage also use the…familial terms to address one another. It seemed lovely to me and I wanted to try it out with you. What do you think?”
You hum in thought, replaying in your head the way Neuvillette spoke to you twice. It is hard to explain, but you somehow immediately see the appeal and understand why your lover got hooked on it. Seems lovely indeed. You wonder, what if you…
“Will you tell me more about those observations on our evening stroll, husband? Ooh, it does sound wonderful!”
Mark him stunned, but for a moment Judex grows speechless. The violet depths of his eyes swirl with adoration as you clap your hands gleefully, and he knows, that from now on your everyday routine will never be the same
“With pleasure, wife.”
Pantalone
Dancing snowflakes are slowly descending in their tender waltz and are gleaming like the tiniest of gems in the streetlights’, enveloping the already magical winter capital of the Cryo region in a solemn atmosphere. The white cover of the ground is crunching with every step of a passerby and every wheel rotation of the fancy-looking carriages, while the street is a jumble of fur coats and heavy military overcoats, finally breathing life into the afternoon-quiet city.
It’s a wonderful evening, too marvelous to spend it at home, too enchanting to miss the new ballet at the Bolshoy Theater, the true accumulation of the Tsaritsa’ nation’s nobility and intelligentsia. The wonder of Snezhnayan architecture is both the place to rest and enjoy the purest form of art and home to many gossip circulating in society. Some fresh and just hours old, some ancient and undying, like the topic of the Ninth Harbinger’s lovers.
Lord Pantalone is well-known and often-praised for his contribution to the Snezhnaya’s economy, along with extending the Fatui influence all across the Teyvat. But also he is quite famous for the women he appears in public with. It’s always someone new, it’s never the same one as before. Different shapes, different hair, different style - it is impossible to guess the raven-haired man’s tastes. However everybody knew - the Harbinger never entertained the company of the ladies who made attempts to catch his attention. Those ladies themselves say as much.
The Regrator’s companions never open their mouths, never utter a word - at least not when there are people around. There has never been a single name, never a remembered face - all women wear the mask covering the upper half of it, concealing the identity of yet another lucky choice of the rich man.
Never the same woman - always the same mask.
This evening does not disappoint the gathered crowd - lifting their gazes, directing attention to the Harbinger’s personal box, they once again see the notorious mask. The long fringe of wine-red hair is coquettishly framing the ever-lasting piece of leather, similarly flaming lips are tugged in a haughty smile - as if the young lady doesn’t realize that once the night is over, she’s going to be discarded like many others before her. The dress according to the latest fashion trends and the beautiful garnet necklace do not surprise the audience anymore - even known for his love for replacements, Lord Pantalone dresses his partners royally.
The man himself has chosen yet another black costume, with a dark burgundy shirt hidden underneath and bird-shaped garnet brooch on the left side of his chest. Multiple beautiful rings catch the light when he lifts his gloved hand to adjust diamond-shaped glasses, before turning his head and addressing something to his tonight’s escort. She boisterously laughs, saying something in response, but even if attendants tried to strain their ears, they wouldn’t hear anything so far away. Even harder it gets when the third ring of the bell echoes across the theater chamber and both the Harbinger and the woman are forgotten, until the performance is over.
So no one sees when the ring-decorated hand reaches for a smaller female one, fingers sliding under the chintz-covered palm, thumb immediately reaching to tug on the hem of the glove, so the thin cool lips could press against the small patch of bared skin. A glimpse of a smile is what Pantalone gets when you glance at him with amusement playing on your lips.
Always the same mask, never the same woman, huh?
Pride has long slithered into your heart, yet it still lifts its snake-like head every time your act of decisiveness succeeds, happily hissing. Every time it’s a test of your skills, a gamble with the eyes of ones around you, and every time you hit the jackpot, leaving the people guessing, staying the only one in possession of the banker despite the speculations.
As long as Her Majesty Tsaritsa is aware of your existence and the place you occupy next to Pantalone, you are free to do anything you want with his reputation relationship-wise. And he allows it, because should you desire the whole world - he’ll throw it to your feet like the cheapest trinket. One would say it’s because he is prideful too - he knows it’s because he loves his wife.
Loves to the point of entertaining the masquerades she stages whenever the two of you need to appear in public. It plays wonderfully into his possessive nature and desire to keep his precious beautiful wife to himself and helps with the enemies - “changing the ladies” minimizes the chances of putting at risk his one and only. Not like many know of you in the first place.
It’s a win-win arrangement for you as well - there is still an opportunity to cling to his arm, to use his expensive cologne, to play with the rings on his fingers and sneakily make out in a dark corner where no one can see. To be tugged into his lap in the carriage on the way back to his mansion, to have his long fingers undo the strings of the mask, and once the piece of leather falls onto the floor, have the palms slide down the sides of your neck, swiftly fiddling with the heavy necklace, only to let it be, the caress the shoulders, pushing the sleeves down…
…to leave them at the elbows and grab your arms to push your back into his chest as the warm lips press to the juncture between the neck and the shoulder.
And what if you’ve lost your name in the process of this disguising? Having been an actress a long time ago made you used to it. But isn’t it fun to come up with the new ideas for your next performance? Your husband gifts you way too many dresses and jewelry sets - you must find use to all of them! He now has to simply spend a bit more on the wigs and makeup to fit each combination of fabric and gems.
“Did my wife have a pleasant evening?” The velvet voice of the man behind you caresses the ear and you meet his gaze in the full-size mirror in front of you. Amethyst eyes sparkle in the bedroom light and you smile coquettishly, red lips stretching seductively.
“Did she? How could I know?” You tease, reaching to your back to undo the corset, just to be stopped by his hands, fingers digging into the dozens of strings. “And don’t you know, Mr Harbinger, that it’s very offending for the woman, when the man speaks about another lady in her presence?”
“Oh, I wasn’t aware,” he muses, tugging a bit harsher on the ties and making you gasp, “that my dear wife can be jealous of herself.”
“When you know her poorly. Tsk-tsk, what a bad husband you are.”
Pantalone laughs behind you, shaking his head at your untrue words, and you reach to your head to remove the fiery wig. By the time Pantalone is done with your corset, you are done letting your naturally beautiful locks down, sighing in relief from both the released ribcage and hair roots.
The dress, having lost its vital support on your body, falls to the ground next to the wig and quickly becomes forgotten as you two step away from the mirror.
Your husband is still mostly clothed, having only eased out of his coat and unbuttoned the jacket, so you busy your hands with tugging the black article off and then reaching for the gleaming tiny buttons on the shirt. Your figures bask in the warm light of the room as you continue undressing the man - your eyes concentrated on the expensive fabrics, his - on the lovely expression of your face.
“But if you must know,” Pantalone raises his brow, when you look up at him, a much sincere and tender smile lighting up your visage, “your wife loved the evening very much.”
And that’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear. Fingers tangle in your hair, you harshly inhale, and his lips are on yours. Lipstick is smudging, your fingers accidentally catch the silver chain, and his glasses get slightly askew, but it doesn’t matter. His wife loved another thing he’s done for her. The banker’s day has ended in a great profit.
Wriothesley
Fortress of Meropide is a huge metal labyrinth of floors and corridors, where noise is never-ending even in the late hours of the night. The metal box which is the Duke’s office however, is constructed to mute the annoying sounds or else the one inside would have a very hard time concentrating.
Usually, even the ruckus happening outside and the clanking of the heavy machines underneath can’t sway Wriothesley’s attention if he has his mind set on doing the paperwork, even something as boring as bills. Today, however, the man has caught himself multiple times glancing at the clock he’s hung up a couple of years ago - there is no way to tell the time all the way down underwater, true, but it serves him a greater purpose. It helps him count hours and minutes before you arrive.
Tuesdays and Thursdays are the days when you take a half of the day off to come down to the Fortress to meet up with your husband. You both quickly realized that traveling back and forth together in either of the directions (fortress or home in the city) would be way too inconvenient. So, you improvise by visiting him throughout the week a couple of times and then he comes home to properly spend the weekend, having learnt to delegate his responsibilities to the most trustworthy guards. So far you’ve been extremely pleased with the arrangement, and the Fortress’s crew have learnt your face by heart to not cause you any obstacles in reaching your beloved’s office.
Today, nevertheless, something must’ve gone wrong. Pale blue eyes are practically drilling the minute hand of the previously mentioned clock, watching it moving further and further from the tiny 10-minute bar, which should’ve marked your appearance at the top of his stairs. And he gets it, everything could’ve happened, something as trivial as the queue at the pastry shop that might’ve gotten longer today, but when the delay surpasses the half-hour mark, the warden puts his fountain pen down and follows it by the creak of the chair legs on the metal floor.
As he descends down the stairs - each clunking under the heavy soles of his boots - a fleeting thought of you stopping by at the medical bay first is immediately brushed aside - his office is right on the path of entering the Fortress’s main body, and you love your husband too much to let him sulk in his longing.
When he pushes the colossal doors open, eyes instantly start searching the area ahead of him. However, nothing unusual is spotted - two guards are standing at the front of his abode, not even flinching at the unpleasant scraping noise the metal makes; a couple of inmates are walking past them, bowing their heads right as they see the appearing the figure of their warden - Wriothesley simply nods and sends them off with a flicker of his hand; then there is Monglane’s desk with its irreplaceable owner. And no trace of his beloved wife.
Closing the doors behind him, Wriothesley comes up to the guards, inquiring if they’ve happened to see you. Getting a negative response, he hums and starts walking forward, to the corridor leading to the elevator, not bothering with asking the very same questions to Monglane.
With every passing minute, especially while waiting for the elevator, the man starts realizing how impatient he is growing, if the tapping of his foot and crossed arms are not an indicator enough. Even with just one day apart, he’s missed you so awfully much, your adoring smile, your soft voice and cute little giggles, that he feels rightfully robbed since you are not yet in his embrace, showering his face with kisses and then whining pretentiously because he’s forgotten to shave once again. Sometimes you swear he is not a big bad wolf, but a mean huge hedgehog.
He almost stomps inside the cabin the second its doors slide open and pushes the button to the reddening of his fingertip. It is a long trip up to the next level, and he admits he’s tugged on his leather straps wrapped around his arms a couple of times, but Archons, how little it all matters, when, exiting the elevator, he finally hears such a familiar voice. Your voice.
Your husband’s legs carry him like they obtained a mind of their own, following the full of amusement lilt he knows can belong only to you, just to come to a halt next to the wooden boxes piled up on the side of the path.
He can see you, quite clearly, adorned in a cute pair of pants and a shirt, shoulders covered in a crocheted shawl - always ready for the cool air of the Fortress, yet looking so comfy, that Wriothesley can't help but desire to tackle you to the sofa in his office and cuddle this instant. And he would've done just that, if the conversation you've been having didn't catch his attention.
“No, it's wrong again. It's not Britney, it's Brytnneigh.
“But you are saying the same thing!"
"No, it is not B-r-i-t-n-e-y. It's B-r-y-t-n-n-e-i-g-h."
"Slower, please."
In the second voice the warden easily guesses a new guard that has just been employed a couple of days ago. He remembers signing the papers his weekend substitute brought him on Monday. Wriothesley also remembers how the man swore that he’d passed on to the newbie all the information and training he needed to know. But, it appears, he forgot to mention the most important thing…
“Did you make sure to write my name with two N’s?” Your voice is laced with hardly concealed mirth, and, though he can’t see the face of the guard talking to you, your husband is sure the poor young man looks quite miserable.
“Yes, mademoiselle, I did.”
“Wonderful, but it’s ‘madame’, I am a married woman after all. But no worries, I am flattered you think I look so young,” Wriothesley shakes his head with a silent chuckle. He adores you so much, but maybe it really is time to stop your little play of a new inmate, or else he’ll surely have to call for Sigewinne to check on the poor guard.
“And your last name, madame?”
“I am Brytnneigh Deirdrophnea de Troistêtesloup. Do you want me to spell it for you, dear?”
Yes, he really should stop you.
Before you can open your mouth again, you see in your peripheral vision a figure moving. Upon turning your head slightly, you are graced with the sight of your beloved husband, walking towards you with a quirked thick brow, and crossed arms. All you can do is sheepishly smile, waving at him.
“O-oh! Duke Wriothesley, Sir!” The guard behind the registration desk immediately jumps to his feet, squaring his shoulders and saluting at the arrival of his superior.
“At ease, young man,” Wriothesley nods, stepping even closer, practically invading your personal space, icy blue eyes looking at you unblinkingly. “What is going on here?”
“Nothing much, Mr Warden,” your eyes crinkle in the corners, a sight so infectious, that the man’s lips turn into a small smile. “Just a cute old me, ending up in the Fortress for Archon knows what time.”
“M-madame!” The guard exclaims rather loudly, that even your husband turns to look at him. “Even if it's not your first stay here, you shouldn’t be taking liberties with the Duke!”
“No, no, it’s alright,” Wriothesley raises his hand. “She is no longer your headache-”
“Hey!” You elbow his side to the bewilderment of the guard. In his shock he doesn’t even reach for his weapon.
“-I will personally escort this troublemaker inside. And cross out that abominable name out, would you? It’s not her name.”
“It’s not..?” Now Wriothesley really sympathizes with the guy, he looks utterly lost.
“It’s not. But,” a big scarred hand gently cups you under the chin and turns your head more properly towards the guard, “be sure to remember this adorable face very well for the next time. You’ll need that to let her in and out.”
“...out?”
“Yes, indeed. This woman is my wife.”
As the elevator doors slide close and the cabin starts moving down, you turn to Wriothesley and throw your arms around his wide frame, face burying into his chest.
“Are you proud of me for coming up with such a long and difficult name in a single thought?”
“Oh, for sure,” strong arms circle your waist and chapped lips press to the top of your head, “I bet you would be hard-to-catch if you were a criminal. But why did you decide to play such a prank on a poor man?”
“Well… I just wanted to see his face when he found out that I am the wife of the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide himself. Another reason is that there was no guard who knew my face and I doubt he would’ve believed my word. I just got creative with the way of making him summon someone else. You simply got here before anything could happen. Plus, it’s good to keep them on their toes with a job like that. Besides, I did apologize and praise him for his patience.”
At that Wriothesley just sighs and then chuckles, raising one of his hands and threading his fingers through your hair, pressing your head even closer to his chest. He is not even feeling iffy about the lost half an hour of your time together anymore. Because you gave him an opportunity to introduce you as his wife once again.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#childe x reader#childe x fem!reader#tartaglia x reader#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x fem!reader#pantalone x reader#pantalone x fem!reader#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x fem!reader#childe#tartaglia#neuvillette#pantalone#wriothesley#genshin impact fluff
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Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family Part Two
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Part One ☁️ Part Three ☁️
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: I was genuinely thinking this wouldn’t be as liked as it was. I kinda wanna take my time with it and slow it down. Focus on the Yandere aspect, and the little blurbs to go along with it. But, I hope y’all enjoy!
Warnings: Fem!Reader, Pregnancy, mild yandere themes (blink and you’ll miss it)
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
It wasn’t like you had unintentionally forgotten to mention the apartment search to Stephanie. Mom brain can make you a silly forgetful goose.
Besides, other things had popped up that were much more important. Like, finding out the bean’s gender and finding yourself some actual maternity pants. Or, trying not to pass out. The waves of exhaustion that hit you were surprising. You had hit you second trimester and were supposed to start feeling better, the Doctor said.
But, apparently every pregnancy was different.
Stephanie, on the other hand, had started spending more and more time with you. Which was nice. The way you two were bonding over your experiences was kind of grounding. The little tips she gave were also kinda helpful. She tended to mother-hen you, though. Getting really strict about eating the cold cut sandwiches and your caffeine intake.
The lack of caffeine definitely didn’t help your irritably. Which you were struggling to control. You kept your snappy attitude to yourself as best you could, but sometimes the other’s in the house would do something that would make you glare at them. Alfred and Cassandra had definitely caught on that something was up. You showed the most restraint around them when it came to controlling your emotions. Stephanie was supportive as well.
But, Jason eventually had the absolute audacity to eat your fried cornbread one day. A recipe you had learned from your Momma’s Momma before she died. He left not a single crumb when you found him in the kitchen with a content look.
When you found the empty food container in the sink, you could feel your blood still.
“Did you eat my cornbread, Jason?” You had cooly asked, still looking at the empty container.
He had the further audacity to seem so nonchalant about it, “Yeah, it was good. You should make some more some time.”
“You ate my motherfuckin’ cornbread and you wanna telll me to make some more?” You were about take the empty container from the sink and chucked it at his stupid head.
“Watch the language, princess. It’s not that big a—“ Before he could finish, the restraint was gone and you were throwing the empty contain at him. Some of the dirty water splashing on him.
“What the hell? What gives?”
“You. Ate. My. Fuckin’. Cornbread. Do you know how much I was looking forward to that? And, you just fuckin’ ate it with a damn care?”
“Look, chill.” Jason is more baffled by your sudden behavior than anything to give you his usual temper. Normally you’re more mellow. Just letting them ignore you with ease. Hell, you used to seem scared of him.
“No, I will not fuckin’ chill. You ain’t ask, you just took it, you son of a bitch!” Honestly, you’re about to throw another dirty plastic container at him when Alfred walks in. Seeing the rage on your face and Jason sitting at the counter without care.
“Master Jason, I believe Master Dick requires your presence.” Alfred says with a masterfully controlled tone. You can’t tell if he’s lying or not, and, assumedly, neither can Jason because he gets up to leave.
Jason gives you a glare as he walks out of the kitchen. But, there is a hint of confusion in his gaze that you ignore in favor of trying not to cry over fucking cornbread of all things.
With a huff you go to pick up the empty container, only for Alfred to stop you.
“I believe you shouldn’t be straining yourself so much in your condition, my dear.” He picks it up for you before giving you a very pointed look. His eyes drifting towards the bump you have hidden underneath your oversized hoodie.
Instantly, guilt floods you. You hadn’t tell Alfred about the baby, despite him being your pillar of support in the manor. It makes tears actually spill over your lashes, and it cause you to feel even more frustrated that you can’t contain your emotions anymore.
“How long have you known?”
“I’ve had reason to suspect, but you yourself have just confirmed my suspicions, my dear.” The way Alfred’s single eyebrow raises makes to want to laugh on top of crying.
“Besides, I’ve noticed an unusual increase in the consumption of hot sauce and ice cream in this house. And, bowls containing the remains of the unholy concoction in the sink at the odd hours of the night.” But, the way he gives you a gentle and understanding smile makes a little choking noise escape you.
Thankfully, he lets you bury yourself in his chest as the tears start flowing. Willfully letting you ruin his freshly pressed clothes with your tears and snot. You can feel his hand rubbing your back like he was consoling a child, and you definitely felt like a child in that moment. A broken and pathetic child.
“I’m sorry” You mumble. The two words an apology for a million things. The tears, the recent volatility, the secrets, the way you’ve seemed to have lost control.
“You are forgiven, my dear. You are forgiven.”
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Jason had stormed into the cave, fully knowing Alfred had lied about Dick needing him when he saw him training with Damian and Steph. The sound of their soft grunts, punches, and kicks echoing a bit off the cave walls
“Alright, I’m just gonna say it. What’s the princesses’ deal? Little brat just threw Tupperware at me.” That got everyone’s interest and amusement.
“Are you sure you didn’t deserve it?” Tim quipped from the BatComputer with a grin. Typing away on another case.
“Shut it, Timbo. That’s not the point. She’s acting off.” He huffed as he moved towards one of the seats in the cave. Haphazardly throwing himself into the chair and leaning back with his legs spread.
“Maybe she’s finally coming out of her shell?” Duke suggested without looking over at him. Too focused on his gear. Checking over the material for any tears since the time he’d been on patrol.
Once again, the idea makes Jason scoff and further lean back in his seat.
“She’s literally been living here for years and now she wants to finally grow a spine? Not buying it. Something’s going on.”
“You sound like Bruce.” Dick immediately points out with a raised brow and a wiry grin. Him and the other two moving back over towards the rest of the caves current occupants. Sweat currently on their brows and forms.
“Fuck you, dickhead.”
Dick playful stumbles at the insult, clutching his chest. “Hurtful.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so concerned. Aren’t you always antagonizing her?” Tim points out mildly curious, but most of his attention is directed towards the giant screen in front of him.
“Not the point.”
“This conversation is pointless.” Damian mutters, taking a drink of water with a bored look on his face.
“Isn’t she your sister, Damian? You used to go on and on about being the blood son. Shouldn’t you care about your blood sister?” Tim goads him, never one to let Damian forget his old bratty behavior.
“Half-sister. She’s just a mistake.” He scoffs.
“Damian, knock it off.” Stephanie says with a sharp tone and a even sharper look.
That stuns everyone.
“Steph?” Dick says in… not concern, but bafflement.
“Excuse me, Brown?” Damian’s hackles rising. It was rare for him and Stephanie to go at it. But, not exactly unheard of.
“Just, knock it off, Damian.” She bluntly stated. Not allowing the argument to go any further before she’s whipping the sweat from her face and walking towards the cave’s stair. “Jason, where was she?”
He eyes her for a moment, slight suspicion on his blank face.
“In the kitchen with Alfred.”
“I’m going to go check on her.”
They’re quiet as her feet briskly climb the stairs.
“How much do you want to bet Steph knows what’s going on and isn’t tell us?” Tim breaks the silence with a curious look.
“I’m not taking that bet. But, I think you have a point, Jason.” Dick says, acknowledging his earlier suspicions.
“You have any ideas, Cass?”
“… Something is going on. Not sure what.”
“Guess we have a little princess mystery on our hands.” Jason snarks. Content on being validated, but mind now wondering.
“Might be interesting.” Tim replies with a shrug of his shoulders. “Oh, hey, Damian, just got a space transmission from Conner. Jon and him will be back in a few days and will probably stop by the manor.”
“Jon is tolerable, but must Conner come here as well.”
“Hey, he’s my best friend. Chill out.”
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A/N: Smalltown!Meta!Reader Part 8 has surpassed 4000 words and I’m still not done. And, I cut it in half. I’m really focusing on more dialogue, cause it’s starting to be kinda fun!
A/N: I will get to my asks. Eventually. I mean it, I cleaned it out and then y’all doubled it! I’ll get to it! One day!
A/N: The BatFam tags are lighting up y’all! We are blessed, we are fed!
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
Taglist:
@bunbunboysworld @ellaprime7 @bad4amficideas @victoria1676
#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader#yandere dc#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfamily x reader#platonic batfam#yandere conner kent x reader#yandere conner kent#conner kent x reader#conner kent#pregnant!reader#platonic batfamily#batfamily
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I’ve always been a pretty good liar. As an adult I’ve come to a moral place in which I don’t use that skill set unless it will explicitly benefit someone. But when I was a kid all bets were off.
I think tiny child me was doing their little autistic best but recognized that some situations would be best navigated by lying as telling the truth never netted positive results. Whether it was because my needs often went unmet or ignored, or because I didn’t see any reason not to lie if it would be more favorable, I’m not sure.
This is the story of my proudest lie. The best lie I ever did. A lie that looking back I still go, damn, I was eight.
Our story begins in second grade. I was eight. My school was having a book fair and I spent my small stipend on Gulliver’s Travels. No idea why. Lacking further funds I wandered the fair and came upon the greatest sight known to man. Frog erasers. They were so cute and I was extremely into animals of all kinds.
The whimsy. Who could have known they made erasers in such wonderful shapes? I mourned that I’d spent my money already, and played quietly with the little frogs in their bin. That’s when I was approached by a few other kids from my class.
I didn’t know most of them very well, but enough that it was civil when they asked me, “Are you going to buy those frogs?”
“I’d like to,” I admitted, “but I spent all my money.”
“Why don’t you steal them?”
“I thought about that, but I don’t have pockets.” Indeed, stealing had crossed my mind but it had been a brief temptation. I wasn’t even scandalized that the other girls suggested it.
“Caitlin has pockets,” the leader of the pack said. And indeed, Caitlin in her purple overalls did have pocket space for two frogs. So Caitlin and I became partners. My role in the escapade was just... wanting frogs and walking out with her. We stole two frogs, a yellow and a purple, and united by the misdeed we played together with them at recess despite not really being friendly prior.
After lunch I was called from class to the library. The principal herself was there waiting for me. She had a somber air, almost mournful that she needed to punish me. It was self evident to me that I was here for frog crimes. Caitlin had cracked and taken the fastest route to forgiveness- snitching on an accomplice. Despite the fact that my role was just: wanted frogs, I knew I was going to be in trouble.
Now, I could have told the truth. Pulled a Caitlin and ratted on the girl who told us to steal them. But clearly I’d still be in trouble for having gone along with the morally bereft plan. I was mad at Caitlin for telling but not enough to foist the onus back into her.
“Do you know why you’re here?” The principal asked kindly.
“Is it about the frogs?”
“Yes, Caitlin told us you stole the frogs.”
I quivered my lip and drew myself up indignantly. “I didn’t steal them!”
She blinked at my vehemence but since I looked near tears she carefully asked, “What happened?”
“I really wanted the frogs, but I didn’t have any money. So I asked the librarian if I could take them and bring the money tomorrow! But she was really busy and lots of people were talking to her, and she said yes! But maybe she was saying yes to someone else? And I thought it was to me but Caitlin didn’t, but I was going to bring money tomorrow!”
The principal. Was flummoxed. This was a situation in which I clearly thought I’d done no wrong, in which she couldn’t prove I had done anything wrong, and which the librarian would almost certainly not be able to weigh in. She regarded me not with suspicion but rather vaguely confused as to how to handle me.
I got off with a slight warning that I should pay for things before taking them, despite not having been the one to take things in the first place, and the frogs were confiscated.
I was vaguely worried they’d call my parents but years later when I admitted the story to my mom as an adult she laughed herself sick and said she’d never gotten a call.
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tell me its a bit
"Steve, can I ask you something? What are we doing?"
He pulled away fully to look at you, brows knitted together in confusion as his eyes went back and forth between your eyes and mouth. "Uhh.. sex?"
He loved the cat and mouse game you had once started, not choosing to end it despite him being yours and you being his, despite titles given.
or; the extended version of Baby, No Attachment: Steve continues to reveal his true self to you.
cw: 18+, mdni, soft!Stevie, smut, teasing, spanking (brief), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, wrap it up kids, cream pie, hair pulling, slight choking kink if you squint, yada yada yaddaaaa (2.8k+ words)
The Steve you had become so accustomed to had been different in the last few weeks since that car ride. Treating you with grace and kindness, he tended to your needs no matter what they were. It had taken some time getting used to, always feeling like he was lying about something despite giving you no reason to believe so. His act had shaped up, him treating you like the princess he had once called you, not hesitating to leap whenever you said jump.
He loved the cat and mouse game you had once started, not choosing to end it despite him being yours and you being his, despite titles given. Still sneaking into your bedroom window at all hours of the day, throwing rocks at the glass, throwing himself at you in the back of his BMW whenever he had the chance, no matter the welcoming arms your mom held for him (she was still his favorite). It made you feel like a young preteen again, the excitement of this romance pulling at your heartstrings in every possible good way there was.
The window was open, blowing in cold air as late winter made its final claim in Hawkins. Bedroom curtains were bunched up at the windowsill, caught up from where he had fallen through, shoes kicked off at the bottom. His jacket was thrown somewhere on the floor, half draped over the radio that softly played George Michael in the background. He had insisted on turning it on, whispering ‘We’re gonna get caught’ despite you urging ‘My mom loves you, shut up’. It didn’t stop him, silent moans filling the air as he touched you, your bodies so familiar with one another.
You were pressed into the mattress, both mouths slotted together as one of his hands snaked at your chest, slowly unbuttoning your top as he half-laid on you. His bulge ground into your thigh, small gasps escaping his mouth as you tugged at his hair.
Pulling away slightly, you mumbled into his mouth, “Steve, can—can I ask you something?”
He barely nodded, moving his weight over you to push you further into the bed. The hand at your chest moved to caress your hip, fingers splayed wide across the skin.
“What are we doing?”
He pulled away fully to look at you, brows knitted together in confusion as his eyes went back and forth between your eyes and mouth.
“Uhh… sex?” He laughed, leaning into you to return to his previous position. You stopped him with a touch to his chest. He looked even more confused than he did previously, shaking his head at you.
“No, Steve,” you sighed, slightly rolling your eyes at his comment. One thing you learned about him was that the boy loved playing dumb, especially when it came to actually discussing important things. “Like what are we?”
Realization crossed his face as his eyebrows shot up, an ‘O’ formed between his lips. The look went away as quickly as it appeared, a smirk given to you.
“You’re my girl, right?” He returned his mouth to yours, moving his hand lower to run across your inner thigh. Frustrated, you pushed him completely off of you, noticing the way he just looked so shocked at your fast movement.
He remained silent as you sat up, turning your body to look at him as he was laid on the bed, stuck in the position that he fell in. His hair tussled over his face, eyebrows raised and hands slightly up as he seemed to be awaiting your next move.
“Are you serious?” Your voice was raised, anger between your eyes as you looked down at him. He seemed small in the moment, a red blush crossing his cheeks.
“Do you not want to be?”
“No, Ste—” you cut yourself off with a sigh as you pinched your nose bridge, pulling your knees to your chest. You searched for the patience to deal with him, not understanding why he didn’t get it. “Steve. That’s not what I mean.”
“Well… what do you mean? I thought we were, like, together,” he asked, voice small compared to yours as he slowly sat up. He raised to lean on one hand, the other being placed on your knee, rubbing the skin.
You shot your eyes open to look at him, a loud cackle thrown at him that caused his face to fall. You felt bad to laugh at him, realizing that this ‘King Steve’ who had fallen from grace had so much to learn about girls, despite revolving his life around them.
“Together?” He pulled away from you, moving to sit at the end of the bed with his back turned to you. You saw him lean over on his knees, heard him clear his throat in discomfort. “Babe…”
He ignored the nickname as you moved to perch behind him, pulling him so his back was pressed to your chest, your head resting at his shoulder. Wrapping your arms around him, you felt him relax into the embrace, head tilting onto yours. With your legs on opposite sides of his hips, you leaned into him, the size difference between the two of you causing you to melt.
“Babe… we’re not together because… you never asked me,” you whispered, pressing kisses to his cheek in the pauses of your words. His head turned to look at you, shock the only emotion you could decipher.
“I never asked you?”
“No, dummy,” you giggled, pressing kisses to his cheek and jawline interchangeably. He fucking giggled at the touches of your lips on his skin, tilted his head to try to ‘avoid’ them, yet he made no other effort to move—you knew he loved it.
“Well, do you want to be my girl th—my girlfriend then?” He asked you, looking at you through long lashes, blinking slow as he became shy. You pressed your lips together, shaking your head, laughing as his mouth dropped open at you.
“No?” His voice raised a pitch, suddenly moving so you fell into his arms with a loud laugh. Steve pressed kisses to your nose this time, nuzzling his face into yours as he held you.
“That’s not going to cut it, Harrington.” His last name fell from your lips in a faux-mock, you haven’t muttered his last name since the two of you made amends, if you wanted to call it that—really it actually was just the two of you fucking for the first time in the back of his car. It felt foreign to you, cheesy nicknames shared behind closed doors and whiny drawls of each other's names replacing it.
He paused for a moment, face inches away from your own as he studied you. Drawing your eyes over his features, you took note of the moles dotting his face, constellations drawn in the beauty marks that you loved to trace your fingers over. Steve Harrington was a beauty, a wonder that you felt so grateful to have between your fingertips. Words couldn’t describe the feelings you had bubbling in your chest for him, he was everything and more you had thought him to be.
His breath hit your face with a flutter of your eyes closed, enjoying the bliss of being in his arms.
“You’re going to make me work for it, princess?” The nickname he used to call you had you shivering, arousal pooling between your thighs. His voice dropped an octave, a chill through your spine at the lowness.
“Mhmm,” you mumbled, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as he leaned into you, pressing a kiss to your mouth.
“I can do that,” he whispered back, deepening the kiss as he maneuvered the two of you to the previous position you held, you on your back, legs sprawled with him in between. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it as he ground down into you.
“What else are you going to make me work for?”
One of his hands trailed down the length of your abdomen, fingertips dancing over your stomach before settling at your groin. Your legs widened without a second thought, hips arching onto the touch. He began to work a small circle over your clothed clit, the material dampening as your wetness deepened.
“Ah—” your voice cut off as you tried to respond to him, his fingers working magic as you began to fall apart.
“Not so much to say now, yeah?” He laughed at you, mouthing at your neck as a breathy sigh escaped you. As much as you hated to admit it, you loved this side of him, the cockiness that once was returning to your lover boy, dominating the situation as he made you melt.
“Shut it, Harrington.”
The only words you were able to mutter before he took over, filling up your senses with his body against yours. He was overwhelming, crowding your brain with thoughts of him, thoughts of his touch, his everything. His fingers began to creep lower, pushing your panties to the side as he ran a finger over your slit.
He leaned up to nip at your ear, teeth digging at the lobe of skin, your neck craning to the side as you exhaled in pleasure.
"Not quite sure I like that name anymore," he whispered against your skin, tongue darting out to lick at the skin beneath your ear. He exhaled against you, the coolness of his breath sending shivers down your spine.
"You-"
You couldn't speak as he began to tease you, finger inching into you slightly, just for him to remove it, reaching up to toy with your clit ever-so-slightly.
"I?" He dragged out the letter, leaning back to smirk down at you as he questioned what you were going to say. Irritation crossed your features as you took him in between hooded eyes, lids fluttering shut as he took his teasing to a new level.
His hand left your underwear, grasping your hand between his as he grinded against you. His clothed crotch rubbed between your legs, an exasperated sigh leaving you.
"Steve."
Your tone was firm this time, chastising him as he pushed your leg up with his own. Your free hand reached down to grab at the top of his jeans, fingertips dancing over the button there.
"Yes, princess?" His breath grew a little more shallow, his head dipping to watch your fingers slowly unbutton his jeans, the zip sliding down audibly in the room. His bulge poked out of his jeans, boxers tenting towards you.
"Cut the act."
With a nod, it was over—his mouth was pressed into yours, and his hands were pushing down his jeans, boxers following suit. His cock sprang free of its restraint, beat red and dripping with arousal. In the heat of the moment, you were flipped over, ass sticking straight into the air with your underwear pulled down mid thigh.
It was just enough freedom of the two of your sexes to make ends meet, the head of his cock nudging between your legs, pressing at your entrance. He had his fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back as he entered you in a swift motion, pressing to the hilt.
The two of you groaned in unison, hips flush to one another with Steve taking a break to breath, his head pushed towards the ceiling.
"Fuck, you're so—"
He cut himself off, a hard smack filling the air as his hand made contact with the plump skin of your ass. You pushed your hips back at the assault to your ass, groaning as he pressed even deeper.
"You're going to fucking kill me, princess."
He began to thrust into you, hips rutting into your own. It was quick, thrusts relentless and brutal as he fucked into you. Your hands tried gripping at the sheets around you, failing as the movements had you faltering, body rocking in unison with his own.
His name left your mouth in high pitched whines, eyes fluttering shut with the pleasure that overcame your senses.
"Ste-Steve, fuc-"
You could barely get a word out as he continued rutting into you, his hand gripping your hair tightly, the other running over the skin of your back, reaching down to rub at your lower back, rearing back to smack down into your cheek. The loud sounds of your sex and the smacking of his hand filled the room, becoming louder with each thrust.
You tried shushing him, worried that the sounds would be able to be heard from downstairs. The last thing you needed was your mom coming up the stairs, opening the door to find her sweet daughter in this compromising position.
He leaned over you, pressing your hips into the mattress as he continued fucking into you, grinding his hips in small motions. The atmosphere of the room changed, love filling the air as his hand left your hair, reaching around and down under to grip at your neck. Your neck craned back as he pulled you into him, back to chest.
Steve's breath was hot in your ear, small grunts leaving him.
"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, tone of his voice gruff with arousal.
You attempted to nod, eyes squeezing shut and sweat prickling at your hairline from the heat of the moment. He reached down underneath you to rub at your clit, the bundle of nerves growing more sensitive as the two of you were brought closer to completion.
"Making me work for it—you're such a tease, princess."
The nickname had you whimpering, memories of your prior relationship flooding back. That first night spent together filling your mind, overcoming the small amount of senses that you had left.
A high pitched uhh left you, breath caught in your throat as his grip tightened, hips grinding down into you even further. He couldn't get any deeper, reaching that spot inside of you that was only reserved for him.
"'S not enough, Harrington."
You were insistent on teasing him, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squeezed shut. He quickened his pace, pulling out almost completely just to thrust back into you.
His fingers at your clit sped up, he sensed how close you were solely on how your body tensed up.
"Come on, princess. I know y—"
His hand covered your mouth as you came, drowning out the loud whine that escaped you. He knew your body so well, knew exactly when to stop torturing your clit, when to slow his thrusts so you wouldn't become overwhelmed. Steve's own pleasurable end reached him, a low groan suppressed by pressing his face between your shoulder blades as he came deep inside you.
"Ah, fuck, princess, I lov-"
He cut himself off, another moan escaping him as he bottomed out before pulling out, collapsing on the bed next to you. You took a few moments in silence, catching your breath before turning to face him, blinking slow as you took him in.
Fingers reaching to you, he pulled you closer to him, pulling up the blanket that was pushed to your feet in the same motion. It was so domestic, this moment, your favorite side of Steve making an appearance that was slowly becoming the main event of your relationship.
He lay beside you, leaning on one elbow and hip, his fingers running over the expanse of your skin. You were starstruck in his beauty, the way his hair fell over his eyes, the slight glimmer of sweat sticking to his skin, moles dotting his body even in places the sun couldn't reach. And he was all yours, even if he was being stubborn, being Steve about it.
"You know I loved you the entire time?" He suddenly said, low in tone as he stared you down. Eyes leaving his body, you looked into his deep brown, shock evident on your face.
"I-you what?"
It was the first time these words left his mouth. You knew how you felt, but it was shocking to hear it from him.
"Since the day I saw you, I loved you. Love you," he confirmed, finger running up his body to run against your breastbone. He hovered over your heart, mimicking the shape of one over the skin.
"So... you were being an asshole just for fun?" You teased, turning on your side to lean into his space. Being in his proximity brought you a comfort that should have scared you, but definitely didn't.
He smirked at you, wiggling his eyebrows as he recalled the memories of your early relationship.
"How else was I supposed to make you fall for me?"
Your mouth dropped open in faux shock, your hand reaching up to slap at his chest. A guffaw left him as he grimaced at the red mark forming.
Rubbing at the spot, he whined your name. "Well it worked, didn't it?"
You rolled your eyes playfully, pretending to turn up your face at him. Turning on your side away from him, you closed your eyes, ushering sleep.
"You're such an asshole, Harrington."
You felt his arm snake around you, pulling you into his chest, both of your naked bodies pressed against each other. Instantly, you melted in his arms, your own hand coming up to grip at him.
"I love you too, princess."
Ah jeez, here it is. I love this pairing so much, I never want to part ways with them. part three.
Masterlist. <3
#my writing#Steve Harrington fanfic#Steve Harrington x you#Steve Harrington x reader#Steve Harrington smut#smut#ahhhh#asshole!steve#you guys know how I feel about him#I love him#baby no attachment!uni
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ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren
eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.
thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.
your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.
eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”
you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”
eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”
don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.
but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you
“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.
eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”
it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.
you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.
after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”
with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.
in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?
when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.
with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.
eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”
#lora’s fics! ೄྀ࿐#plug!eren x reader#plug!eren#plug!eren x black reader#plug eren x black reader#plug eren x reader#plug eren#plug eren smut#eren jaeger x black reader#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger smut#plug!eren smut#aot x black reader#eren jaeger x chubby reader#eren x black reader#eren x chubby reader#aot x chubby reader
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Stay quiet for me
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: Bucky fucks you while your parents sleep in the next room
Words count: 1.6k
Warnings: modern setting, established relationship, smut, kinda somnophillia?, everything is consensual, quiet sex, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming.
Author’s note: thanks for everyone’s support. enjoy❤️🔥
Your parents had been staying at yours and Bucky's apartment for four days, and even though he loved them, he was kind of missing having you only for him.
Bucky wasn’t the type of person who would show too much affection and feelings in front of other people, but when you were alone, he always had his hands on you. Causally slapping your ass, kissing your neck, or just bending you over the closet flat surface was his favorite thing to do, and, unfortunately, he couldn't do it while your mom or dad were sitting in the same room.
He didn’t want to be dramatic, but it was torture. Obviously, you two didn’t have sex during these days because you were too afraid that your parents might hear, and at first Bucky understood, but with every cute little outfit, every smile towards him, and every innocent touch of your hand, he was losing it.
And now he had been lying wide awake for the past thirty minutes while you were peacefully sleeping next to him. Your back was pressing firmly against Bucky’s chest; his left hand was under your pillow, and the right one was on your waist. He was just enjoying whatever he could get, inhaling your sweet perfume and rubbing the soft skin of your stomach with his thumb. That was until you, still fully asleep, moved your ass right towards his crotch.
The reaction was instant. Bucky’s body tensed near you; his eyes got closed, and his cock became painfully hard. The only layers that were between you were his boxers and your cotton panties, because you liked to sleep only in one of Bucky’s t-shirts. And the fact that you continued to move in your sleep didn’t help at all.
“Baby…” Bucky whispered into your neck, trying to stop your hips, but it didn't help. “Doll, stop—” That was it; he couldn’t even think straight with your ass firmly pressed against him.
Fuck it, you can be quiet, right? Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then his right hand slipped from your belly right into your underwear. Two fingers ran across your folds, pressing on your clit.
“Bucky…” You would’ve moaned out loud if Bucky hadn’t covered your mouth with his free hand.
“Sh-h, baby.” He started slowly moving his fingers in circular motions, and you unconsciously moved your legs wider to give your boyfriend better access.
“We can’t do that right now.” You mumbled against the palm of his hand. “My parents are sleeping in the nest ro—” You didn’t finish your sentence because two fingers suddenly slipped inside of you.
You were already wet enough for Bucky to easily move his hand, brushing your G-spot with every thrust. The rational part of your brain wanted to stop him, but your body was too weak; it was already addicted to Bucky’s touch, and you both knew that.
“Stay quiet for me, baby, ‘kay?” The hot breath on your neck sent goosebumps all over your body, and you couldn’t help but silently nod.
It felt too good. Maybe you tried being cool about it, but you missed sex with Bucky as much as he did. Yes, it was just four days, but after living together for two years, you already got used to the fact that Bucky was kind of obsessed with you and couldn’t live without touching you at every possible moment.
So right now, when Bucky’s fingers were slowly moving in and out of you while the palm of his hand was so perfectly brushing against your clit, and his hips were moving with the same pace against your ass, you forgot about everything else except the two of you.
Your orgasm was creeping in slowly but heavily. The knot in your stomach was already almost painful; you were so close to your release, pulsing on his fingers. You needed just a few moments, and...
And Bucky completely pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine in despair. His left hand covered your mouth again because it was a little bit too loud for the dead silence in the house. But still, you felt disappointment as the last signs of your building orgasm slipped out of your body, and you were lying there wet, hot, and a little bit mad that your boyfriend didn’t let you finish.
“I told you to shut up, baby. I’m gonna take care of ‘ya. Just wanna feel your tight little pussy cumming on my cock, ‘kay?” You nodded again when Bucky started to kiss the back of your neck and shoulders, at the same time sliding your underwear down your legs. “Lift your leg a little bit, doll.”
You did as he told you, even though it was hard because your whole body was trembling from excitement and fear of getting caught. It felt like you were just teenagers who were trying to fuck without anyone knowing, and this thought made you even wetter. There were, in fact, chances that everything you did could be heard in the other rooms.
You were distracted from your thoughts when Bucky took his cock out of the boxers, gave himself a few pumps, and then rubbed it against you to cover himself in your slick. The tip pressed into your entrance, slipping inside easily, until his full length was buried deep into your dripping cunt.
Your eyes rolled back into your head, and you didn’t even notice that you bit the palm of Bucky’s hand in order not to scream out loud. He buried his face in your neck, taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself down a little bit.
“Feelin’ so good, sweetheart. Can’t imagine how much I’ve missed this pussy.” His right hand slipped under your thigh and moved your leg higher above your bed. The soft cover completely fell off your body, leaving your hot body exposed to the cold air of the room. It seems like he slipped even deeper, stretching and filling you up so well.
Bucky started to move slowly in and out of you, trying to make as few noises as possible and thrusting into you in a steady rhythm. You felt so fucking good wrapped around him that it was hard to behave well and not fuck you right into the mattress as he always liked to do. If you two were alone, he would've probably already put you ass up on the bed with your face in the pillows, making you scream his name and moan non-stop.
“M-m-m.” You couldn’t do anything but silently whine into his hand at every movement of his thick cock sliding inside of you. You didn’t know what to do with your hands or what to grab to distract yourself from the hot pleasure that was filling your whole body.
“Don’t– Don’t say a fucking word, baby. You don’t want your parents to find out that you’re just a slut for my cock, right?” Bucky’s deep whisper in your ear made you squeeze around him even harder. “So tight, so wet for me. I swear, you won’t be able to walk for a few days when we finally are alone, you hear me? Already so dumb for my cock, and it’s been almost for days.” His teeth playfully bit your earlobe, before moving lower to suck on the soft skin of your neck.
Your orgasm started to build again, with every movement bringing you closer and closer to the finish line. You wanted to cry or scream—you didn’t even know—but the tears blurred your vision when the hand under your leg moved further and Bucky pressed his fingers on your swollen clit. Your body twitched from the overstimulation, but your boyfriend just pressed harder, so you had no other choice but to let yourself fall into the abyss of pleasure.
“Cum for me, doll. I got ‘ya. Cum on my cock, I feel how you’re squeezing me.” Your head fell backwards, and your back arched as your orgasm filled every corner of your body.
The white noise in your ears and dots behind your closed eyes completely distracted you from the things that Bucky mumbled in your neck while he was trying to reach his own high. With a few last, not-so-steady movements, he grabbed your thigh and bit your neck while his body was trembling, emptying his hot seed deep inside of you.
“Good girl.” Bucky didn’t stop, gently thrusting into you to prolong your orgasms a little bit. “Good fuckin’ girl, take it all.” You whined when your overstimulated body started trembling under his touch, until Bucky finally stopped moving, still buried in you with his load dripping around his cock. “You did so good, doll.”
“W-what if they heard us?” You whispered into the darkness of your room, which was filled with the musky smell of sex, and you couldn’t deny that the adrenaline in your body felt so good.
“They’re sleeping, and we should too.” Bucky brought your warm body closer to himself, wrapping his hand over you and not making any movement to pull out. “Wanna stay inside of you for tonight, ‘kay? Love you so much, baby.”
“Love you too, Buck.” You relaxed under his touch and closed your eyes, drifting back to sleep, finally feeling so full and satisfied.
You didn’t know if it was true or if your overthinking brain was just playing some bad jokes with you, but it seemed to you that your mom gave you a weird smile when you came down to the kitchen the next morning.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#marvel
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I lurvvv ur writing so much and I totes am picking up what your putting you down, Steve picks you up for a date in his truck you’re tryna get to know each other first but the tensions just building and you can’t resist heheheh👀🫣
thank you for requesting :D — eddie and the gang get strangely protective of you when the find out steve's taking you out on a date (loser!reader, implied enemies to lovers | 1.6k)
The sun sets outside of The Palace Arcade. Dustin bursts through the doors and out into the orange-tinted parking lot, headed undoubtedly for Eddie’s rusted van. “I call shotgun!” he shouts to no one in particular, but to you especially. He’s confused and only slightly relieved when you don’t race him for it.
“You can have it,” you say with a roll of your eyes, pausing on the curb and crossing your arms over your chest.
Eddie pauses mid-stride. His wild curls sway around his face when he spins to glare at you, dark eyes narrowed in an accusatory squint. It’s unlike you not to challenge Dustin for the front seat, just like it’s unlike you to dress as nicely as you are now — all pretty and made-up for a day at the arcade.
“You’re not coming?” he asks.
“No,” you shrug, pretending to be cool about the whole thing. “I told you, Steve’s picking up—”
“You didn’t tell me that,” he interjects.
“That’s weird,” you scoff an awkward laugh. “I coulda sworn I said something earlier—”
He takes one slow step towards you, glancing up and down your form with a suspicious gaze. “What’s going on? Are you lying to me?” he rambles. “Wait— You’re not staying late to try and beat my Robotron top score, are you?”
“No!” you blurt, half-offended by the accusation. “You’re literally the only person who cares about that stupid game, anyway.”
“Then what?”
“Steve’s coming to get me because…” you trail off, speaking in hesitant murmurs as your friends crowd behind Eddie. You swallow hard and lift your chin, feigning an air of confidence. “Because we have a date.”
“You have a what now?” Lucas wonders aloud, voice a few octaves higher than normal.
“Eugh!” Eddie groans, much louder than probably necessary.
“It’s not a big deal!” you shout back.
“You guys are gross,” Dustin grouses.
“It’s one stupid date!”
“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs emotionlessly. “But one stupid date turns into one stupid year together. Which turns into one stupid marriage and having stupid babies—”
“You sound jealous,” you laugh.
“…Of you or Steve?”
“Either.”
“Doesn’t matter— It’s still disgusting,” he concludes, face screwed with horror. “Now whenever I see you guys, which is practically all the fuckin’ time, all I’m gonna be able to think about is you and Steve boning each other.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re a pervert,” a familiar voice quips from a distance.
Your heads whip in sync to find Steve sauntering down the sidewalk with his hands in the front pocket of his creased slacks. He’s wearing his good khakis, and the nice sweater his mom got him for his birthday. An angel, fallen from the heavens, now landed in your lap.
Eddie scowls while the brunette boy flashes you a lopsided smile. “Ready to go?” he asks you, despite the number of curious leers from the surrounding teenagers.
They’ll probably never get used to King Steve having a thing for a weirdo like you.
You won’t either.
“Yes, please,” you lilt quietly and take the hand he extends towards you. His palm is warm and softly calloused under your touch, almost the exact feeling of velvet.
He leads you a few spots down to where his truck sits idling. Eddie calls behind you, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, alright? Actually, no— Don’t do anything I would do.”
You smile over your shoulder. “Whatever, Eds."
“And don’t keep her out too late, either, or I’ll call the Chief,” Dustin shouts, rushing to the two of you when you disappear between Steve’s pick-up and a rusted Chevy. He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, trying hard to be intimidating despite his oh, so pinchable cheeks. “And, trust me, I’ll know.”
He leaves out the part where you live across the street from each other.
You nearly say something about his empty threats until Steve beats you to the punch. “I’ll have her home by midnight, Dusty-Bun,” he cajoles over his shoulder, opening the squeaking passenger-side door for you.
You giggle to yourself and duck inside.
The pleather interior is still smooth, with little to no signs of weathering. And everything in it smells like Steve — his cologne, his hair gel; the cigs he smokes, the gum he chews to cover it up. It’s a sweet sort of musk that makes your head swim.
“Don’t call me that!” you hear Dustin gripe when the driver’s side door opens and closes again.
Steve puts the keys in the ignition. The engine roars to life. Wham! plays softly on the radio. He sends Dustin a measly wave as he backs out of the parking lot. The boy flashes him his middle finger in return.
“Sorry about them,” you murmur, sliding the seatbelt over your chest.
Steve laughs. “You say that like I don’t know ‘em.”
“Still. They’re total freaks. I feel like I should apologize.”
“Nah, don’t— don’t worry about it,” he stammers, suddenly very hyperaware of the song playing on the radio. Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go. A sickly sweet pop beat that he can hardly stand, so he figures you must despise it.
His hands grow clammy on the steering wheel, and he readjusts his grip. “Uh, you can put a tape in the deck. You know. If you want to or whatever.”
You take the opportunity to fish through his belongings with perhaps more swiftness than you mean to. He motions to the glove box, and you lift the handle to open it. Right on top of the unorganized cassettes sits a tube of lipstick — a tiny golden thing with a ring of familiar maroon at the bottom.
“Wow. This is a really pretty shade, Steve Harrington,” you croon. “I bet it really brings out your eyes.”
Steve’s gaze flits from the road, to the lipstick in your hand, and back again. His face floods with horror, and your grin widens. “That’s— That’s Robin’s. I swear. She leaves her shit in here all the time, it’s so annoying—”
“I’m just messin’ with you, Stevie,” you giggle.
You keep the lipstick in your lap while you rummage through the tapes. Plastic clatters together under your fingertips before you ultimately settle on a David Bowie cassette. Modern Love plays softly through the speakers. You smile to yourself when Steve taps his anxious fingers against the steering wheel to the beat.
He clears his throat. “I, uh— I didn’t wanna say anything earlier, you know, with Eddie and everyone around, ‘cause they’re total drama queens, but, uh… You look really pretty tonight.”
You slouch in your seat, trying and failing to hide your smile. “Just tonight?” you tease.
“Every night,” he corrects.
“Well, you look really pretty tonight, too, Stevie.”
Your eyes narrow in a playful squint. Steve’s cheeks flush a faint pink color. He rolls his eyes and turns away. “Stop flirting with me,” he mumbles sheepishly.
“You started it!”
“No, I was being sincere. You’re just trying to get in my pants.”
“Oh, am I?” you lilt.
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, why does that have to be such a bad thing, huh?”
Steve glances at you for a moment. The amber streetlamps whip by every few seconds, casting flitting shadows over his statuesque face. “…You’re doing it again,” he mumbles.
“Sorry,” you say, though the way you look at him says otherwise.
You sit up straighter and flip down the truck’s visor. A sliver of your eyes shows in the small mirror there. You slide the top of the lipstick off with a soft click.
“Think Robin will mind if I use this?” you ask him, already twisting at the bottom of it.
“I think Robin forgot it existed the second she left it in here,” Steve scoffs.
You smear the muted rogue over your bottom lip, then rub your mouth together to disperse the satin onto your top one. It feels strange there, like a heavy swathe of powdery silk.
The last time you wore lipstick was senior prom, you think — and even then, you'd wiped it off as you snuck into the Hellfire classroom to finish Gareth’s D&D campaign.
It feels foreign on your lips now, but a good kind of foreign, as you turn in the leather seat to face Steve better.
The mischievous look in your eye makes him cower slightly. It makes his heart skip a beat, too, but he cowers nonetheless. “What are you doing?” he wonders without taking his eyes off the road.
“Nothin’,” you lilt, cupping his left cheek in your right hand. “Just focus on the road.”
His breath catches when your lips press to his jaw, lingering there to stamp the shape of your mouth onto his skin. He tries hard to focus on the road, but he gets quickly drunk on the feeling of you — on the warm hand on his face, on the soft plush of your lips, and on the perfume spritzed on your neck he can smell from here.
He has to remind himself to breathe while your mouth kisses wherever it can reach — his chin, his cheek, his temple, his forehead.
The entire right side of his face is soon marked with your lipstick stain. It makes him feel slightly unbalanced. He needs you to do the same to his left side, too, so he can feel whole again.
“What was that for?” he wonders aloud, breathing heavily for a reason he can’t name, as you settle back in the seat beside him.
“For bein’ so pretty,” you shrug.
“You know I can’t go into Enzo’s looking like this, right?” he laughs.
“Well, maybe we don’t have to go to Enzo’s at all. Maybe we could go somewhere a little more… private.”
Steve’s eyes flit to you once, then linger on your face for longer than he means to. Your lipstick has smudged softly from where you’d kissed him so ardently. Your mouth is slightly swollen from it, too, as it curls into a mischievous grin. He shakes his head and turns away before he can drown in your eyes.
He swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing. “Lover’s Lake it is…”
#published by bug#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#st drabbles#stevie drabble
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Hi prettyyyy! I neeeeed jealous stepbro!rafe, maybe something like he catches you sneaking back in after seeing a boy, or sneaking out, your the brilliant writer so I know you’ll do absolute wonders with this idea!!! 💋💋💋
i love stepbro!rafe so damn much, ugh. thank you for this request and the kind words baby!🤍🤍
CW: smut! 18+ only! stepcest, mean!rafe, punishment, slight choking, ass slapping, fingering, dirty talk.
rafe masterlist | requests
you’d been waiting on the perfect time to sneak out and see jj, the pogue you were forbidden from seeing by your mother and your obnoxious stepbrother, rafe.
it was finally the night, your mom and ward being out of town for a business gala and rafe was at topper’s house, you were home alone.
or so you thought.
you had just finished the final touches of your makeup, grabbing your phone off the floor and shooting a quick text to jj, letting him know you were about to head his way.
gathering everything you’d need, you quietly make your way out of your bedroom. you turn to head for the spiral staircase, but you run into a wall— or rather, your stepbrothers chest. you fall backward onto your ass, a small groan falling from your lips as you slowly look up, finding rafe’s bright blue eyes glaring down at you.
a smile spreads across his lips. “and where exactly do you think you’re going?”
you slowly push yourself back to your feet, dusting off the back of your leggings before squaring your shoulders, looking up into rafe’s eyes.
“well, not that it’s any of your goddamn business, i’m going to a friends house.”
“a friend?”
you scoff. “yeah. a friend.”
crossing your arms across your chest, you let out an exasperated sigh. “look, rafe. i don’t know what your problem is with me, but it’s getting old. just let me go to my friends house, it’s not that big of a fucking deal.”
rafe takes a slow step toward you, his hands reaching out and gripping at your upper arms. he pulls you into him, dipping his head down, his lips brushing against yours as he whispers, “so much attitude for someone with no power here. mommy and daddy aren’t here to save you, princess, so i’d consider your next words very carefully.”
his eyes scan the length of your face, and you suck in a sharp breath. you squirm in his hold, trying to rip your arms out of his grasp, but it’s no use. rafe digs his fingers into your arms, making you whimper out in pain, but you still don’t back down.
fuck him and his thinking he can control you. fuck him for thinking he can tell you what to do, he’s your stepbrother, not your keeper. you lift your head, narrowing your eyes on his, “fuck you, rafe. you’re my stepbrother, why the fuck do you care about what the hell i do with my free time? you don’t see me crashing out over you spending nights out of the house, bringing girls in and out of your room, i don’t give a fuck what you do, so why the fuck do you ca-”
rafe’s right hand releases your arm, coming up and wrapping around your throat. he squeezes so tightly tears blur your vision. a silent scream escapes you as you kick your legs out, bucking and fighting against rafe’s hold on you. he pushes your back into the wall, your head banging harshly against it, causing a dull throb. he leans forward again, pressing his lips against yours in a messy, slow kiss.
at first you’re confused, this isn’t right, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think your stepbrother was hot. i mean… he was fucking gorgeous. you stop fighting against his hold, melting into his touch instead. you kiss him back hungrily, tongue swirling with his, teeth clashing against each other as you both breathe heavily against one another.
rafe breaks his lips from yours, reaching his left hand to the side and pushing open the door to your bedroom. he quickly yanks you inside, kicking it shut behind him as his lips find yours again. he drags you to your bed, falling back onto the end and dragging you across his lap. his fingers push into the waistband of your leggings, harshly tugging them down your thighs, letting them pool around your ankles. rafe groans when he sees you had no panties on.
“going to a ‘friends’ house with no panties on? such a dirty little thing aren’t you, princess?”
you whimper when his large hands firmly grope at your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands before he begins to run them down your thighs, reaching the heat of your soaked core. you feel his cock stiffen beneath your stomach, a whimper pulled from you as he runs his fingers through your slick folds.
your hips buck, soft whimpers and whines falling past your pouty lips as rafe teases at your entrance with his thick fingers.
“so wet, princess,” rafe groans, shoving his index and middle fingers inside your cunt, curling them slightly and toying with your g-spot. “you’re fucking mine. always have been, and i think it’s about time i show you that you belong to me.”
rafe’s fingers begin to harshly thrust in and out of your soaked pussy, the lewd noises of your arousal bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. the muscles of your thighs tighten, your inner walls contracting around his thick digits.
rafe lets out a dark chuckle, the pace of his fingers picking up. he fucks you hard and fast, that familiar fire burning low in your belly. this is so wrong, and you know it. you know rafe knows it. you might not be blood related, but he’s still your stepbrother. if your parents found out about this… ward would kill rafe.
your thoughts are interrupted when rafe’s low, raspy voice fills your ears. “pussy’s so wet and tight, my sweet little stepsister loves when i have my fingers stuffed inside her cunt, doesn’t she?”
“r-rafe… please?” you beg, another soft moan slipping past your parted lips. your eyes squeeze shut, your clit pulsing and walls clenching around his fingers.
“say it!” rafe shouts, slowing his fingers before completely stilling them inside you. “say you’re mine. say you won’t ever let another man touch you.”
you roll your hips, trying to push yourself to your release, but rafe’s free hand slaps against your ass cheek, a tingle spreading down your spine from the impact. “say it, princess, and i’ll let you cum.”
“i’m yours! all yours, rafe! please… please let me cum!”
rafe lets out a satisfied hum, his fingers pushing in and out of you again. his pace is rough and fast, “rafe… ‘m gonna cum… shit!”
your entire body jerks against his thighs, legs shaking as your orgasm rushes through you. rafe’s fingers fuck you through your high, only slowing when your body calms down, falling slack over his lap. he slowly pulls his fingers from inside you, rolling you over so you’re facing him, a wicked smile on his lips.
“such a good girl. this is our little secret, but you’re mine, princess. don’t ever fuckin’ think of pulling a stunt like this again.”
tagging some moots: @starkeysbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @rafeyscurtainbangs @starkeysprincess @littlelamy @httpsdrewstarkey @rafesbabygirlx @oceandriveab @nemesyaaa @kiiyomei @cameronwillow @bloodibambiidoll
#*ೃ༄ my works#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#stepbro!rafe
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prompt 5: ‘they’re all lying’
jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (meeting the pogues, anxiety, jj being adorable, drinking, mentions of weed, embarrassing stories.)
not proofread! send reqs!
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
“I’m nervous,” you admitted softly, JJ’s hand in yours as the two of you walked down the street towards the Chateau.
The blonde let out a soft chuckle, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles. He gave your hand a squeeze, trying to comfort you so you didn’t take offence from his amusement. “You have nothin’ to be nervous about.”
“I do, J!” You bickered, pouting over at him with a look of irritation. He laughed again, making you pull your hand away from his. “It’s not funny.”
He stopped walking, grabbing your waist so that you would stop with him. His hands rested on your hips as he smiled down at you. “I’m sorry, baby, you’re right, it ain’t funny. But trust me, you don’t need to be scared. All we’re doin’ is sitting around drinking beer.”
“They’re gonna be judging me the whole time, making sure I’m good for you,” you argued, avoiding eye contact with him.
Deep down you knew you were over-reacting. JJ’s friends, the Pogues, were known for being the most chill group around the island. All they did was smoke, surf and drink. But this was different than meeting any old boyfriend’s friends; you were meeting his family. You were well aware of JJ’s childhood — his mom leaving and his dad being an asshole — so you also knew how much his friends meant to him.
John B had been in his life since he was a kid, and the others came along throughout the years. He talked about them like they hung the moon and the stars, and all you wanted was for them to like you. You’d been putting it off for weeks, always coming up with excuses so you didn’t have to tag along but he could see straight through you. It was the most annoying thing about him.
“I promise, sweetheart, they’re gonna love you,” he soothed, one of his hands moving up to run through your hair. You swatted his hand away, having spent half an hour perfecting it.
“What if they don’t?” You asked quietly. Your biggest worry wasn’t that they weren’t going to like you, but that JJ would agree with them.
As said, he can see right through you, so the question sent all amusement off his face. “Hey. You don’t need to worry about us, okay? You’re my girl, right?” You nodded slowly. “Then there’s nothin’ to worry about. Now come on, let’s go get some booze in you.”
“Okay,” you hum, re-taking his hand to make the rest of the walk.
You weren’t even in the backyard before you could hear the sound of laughter and chatting, JJ gave you a reassuring smile and lead you around the side of the house to where they were sat. Kiara had her legs thrown over Pope’s lap, a joint in hand, John B was sipping on a beer and talking with Pope and Sarah was on her phone next to him. Very chill.
“The main attraction has arrived!” JJ yelled, getting all their attentions and a glare from you.
“There they are,” Kiara grinned lazily over at the two of you. He lead you closer and she held her hand up in a wave. “I’m Kie, nice to meet you.”
You introduced yourself, giving her a shy smile as John B stood up and threw his arm around your shoulders. “So you’re the girl that JJ’s utterly obsessed with?”
“Uh… I hope so,” you laughed, making the rest of them chuckle too.
“Come sit,” Sarah instructed, tapping the space beside her. “We want to hear all about how JJ is as a boyfriend.”
You looked back at JJ, who gave you a nod. Sarah beamed as you sat down beside her, instantly asking you every question that came to her mind to do with you and JJ; how you met, who initiated the first kiss, what his love language is. After Kie wasn’t quite so high, she came and joined the two of you to get in on the details.
A couple hours had passed, you were having fun with the girls as the three boys listened in every now and then — just to have some extra ammo to tease JJ with later on. It was the time of the night that you were all buzzed and the embarrassing stories had begun.
“He had this serious crush on her, no need to get jealous he was only nine, but he decided the best way to get her attention was dump mud all over her at recess,” John B explained, a wide grin on his face.
You giggled as JJ covered his face with his hands, embarrassed. “Did it work?”
“No!” John B exclaimed, chuckling. “She told the teacher on him so he put bugs in her pencil case.”
“What a romantic,” you teased, turning to a red-faced JJ beside you. He flipped you off, and then turned to John B and kept it up.
From that story, more just came to the Pogues. They spent the next excruciating (for JJ) hour telling you everything they could think of. There was the time he got caught pissing in a bush by an elderly couple and tried to explain it away by saying his pants fell down. Sarah was so excited to tell you about him accidentally wearing Kie’s jeans to school after a heavy night that she fell right off her chair.
You were leant against JJ’s shoulder, giggling still. The stories had died down, but every time they replayed in your head you’d fall into a fit of laughter once again.
“They’re all lying,” JJ stated, sipping on his beer with a small smirk.
“We have photographic evidence,” Pope argued, pulling his phone out. JJ was tackling him to the ground in seconds.
You weren’t sure what you’d been so worried about, in reality JJ should have been the one panicking.
#threewordprompts#jj maybank#jj maybank prompt#jj mayback x reader#jj mayback imagine#outer banks#obx#the pogues
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"I Want Your Dad, Too!"
જ⁀➴ Boyfriend's Dad : Day 1
feat. Harwin Strong, Jacaerys Velaryon ᯓ★ You have a problem with your boyfriend's performance in the bedroom. Luckily, his dad is here to teach him a couple of tricks to keep you satisfied!
warnings! : NSFW 18+, modern au, consensual cuckolding, himbo-coded Jace, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, squirting, creampie
ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3
You had a problem. A huge problem.
Well, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t really that big of a problem, but to you, with oh-so-few cares in the world, it was.
Your boyfriend was really bad at fucking.
Like. Really bad.
It was pissing you off. You love Jace, but that man was never going to make you cum.
You had decided that today was the day that you were going to sit down and talk about it with him. You weren’t that shallow that you would break up with him over his lack of skills in the bedroom, but you really couldn’t handle shitty two minute sex for the rest of your life.
You take a deep breath before knocking on his front door.
When the door opens, it’s not Jace who greets you, but his dad.
Harwin Strong stands tall before you in all his glory. The first time you met his dad was only a few weeks after you and Jace started dating, and he was eager to introduce you to his parents. One look at Harwin and you knew instantly why you swooned over Jace the second you met him. Not only was he incredibly handsome, but he was kind, too. From the glimpses of how he was with Jace’s mom Rhaenyra, back when they were together, you could tell that he was a great husband, too.
You would be lying if you didn’t sometimes fantasize it was him fucking you when Jace couldn’t coax an orgasm out of you. There was no doubt that Harwin knew how to make a woman fall apart in pleasure.
“H-hi, Mr. Strong,” you greet him, the embarrassment from your thoughts much more prominent than you wanted to come across. “Is Jace here?”
“Told you to just call me Harwin, love,” his deep voice croons out, a sparkle in his eye and a smile adorning his features. “He’s up in his room, told me you would be coming.”
The way he looks so intently at you causes your cheeks to heat up involuntarily. It’s as if he sees right through you, like he knows exactly the reason why you’re here right now.
“Don’t have too much fun,” he winks at you and pats your shoulder gently as you pass by him up to the familiar path to Jace’s room.
You fan at your cheeks, hoping that Harwin didn’t notice the way heat rose to them, and that Jace won’t notice now as you knock on his door.
It flings open as you’re still knocking, causing you to jump back, startled.
“Babe! Sorry! Thanks for stopping by, I actually had something kinda important to talk to you about.”
“So did I. Do you mind if I go first?” You plop yourself down onto his bed, making yourself comfortable for what you anticipate to be an uncomfortable conversation.
Jace smiles, taking a seat beside you. “’Course not. What did you need?”
You take a deep breath. This was it. You hoped that Jace was receptive to what you were about to tell him. He was always so sweet, not like other guys who got bruised egos and blamed it on women when they couldn’t keep their dicks hard for more than a minute. You didn’t know what you were going to do if Jace didn’t handle it well.
“It’s about, um, our sex life. I didn’t want to bring it up right away because I wasn’t sure if you were just nervous or something, but—” you huff, “—well, I guess to be frank, you’re not really good. Like, you haven’t even made me cum once.”
A blush runs across Jace’s face, and he looks down as he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I-I kinda figured that’s what you wanted to talk about. I also noticed it. It’s why I had my dad answer the door. I asked him if he could help us out. Well, I guess, more like help me out so I can be better. For you.”
You blink.
He blinks.
“O-oh!” You respond. This was quite an unexpected development. “Well, um, what did he say?” You tried not to sound too eager at the proposition.
“I mean, he was like, if you were cool with it, then he was fine with helping. Said something about how I was practically a failure of a boyfriend if I didn’t make you cum every time.” He looks down, avoiding your stare.
“Oh, hon, don’t say that.” You take his cheek in your palm, stroking it with your thumb. “You’re a great boyfriend! You just, well, can use some help in the bedroom.”
He lets out a sigh, and you continue. “This is why honest communication is important, right? I told you my feelings, you told me yours, and no one’s angry! Look at us, we’re doing really well at this couple stuff!”
Jace looks back up at you and smiles. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. So what do you think? Of my dad, ah, demonstrating.”
Your legs practically quiver at the thought of getting fucked by your boyfriend’s dad—in front of him, no less. Jace was practically his dad’s clone. It would be like getting probably fucked by a much more matured and sexually attuned version of your boyfriend.
You gulp, ignoring the wetness between your thighs from your fantasies. “Y-yeah, I think that would really…help our relationship, right?”
He nods, and a silence passes between you two before Jace stands. “Let me go get—”
“No need.”
You both turn to voice to see Harwin standing, arms crossed and leaning in the doorway. “Glad you agreed, love,” Harwin says as he enters the room, closing the door behind him. “Jace has a lot to learn if he wants to keep you around.”
Harwin’s confidence has your pussy clenching in anticipation, and you can feel yourself getting wet just by the way you can imagine how good he’ll be making you feel.
“Have a seat, Jace. I’m going to show you how a man pleasures a woman.”
Jace gulps and nods, his cheeks dusting with a light red color as he takes a seat in his desk chair to let his father share the bed with you.
Harwin’s weight on the bed causes it to dip, and your body instinctively leans into his warmth as he wraps his arms around you.
“First thing you need to do,” Harwin starts, turning himself and you to face Jace, “is foreplay.” His hand drops beneath your skirt, his fingers grazing at your cloth covered pussy. You gasp at the sudden contact, your body arching itself into Harwin’s large chest. “Have you done that before?” Harwin asks, directing his question at Jace.
“I mean, I’ve touched her a little bit—”
“A little bit isn’t gonna cut it.”
Harwin lifts your skirt up so that Jace can see underneath it. Your boyfriend’s eyes widen at the sight of your pussy, practically dripping as Harwin strokes it with his thick fingers.
“See how wet she is?” Jace nods, his face turning even redder than before. Even through the haze of your pleasure, you can see the tent visible in his pants. “Have you ever seen her get that wet before?”
“No,” Jace murmurs, embarrassment evident across his features.
Harwin sighs. “You see, son, women are real delicate.” His fingers pet across your pussy, your arousal drenching your panties. “You need to take your time with them, get them all nice and ready for your cock.” His fingers start to tease at your entrance, your hips bucking up to meet them.
“It may feel good for you,” he continues, “but it won’t feel good for them ’till you can hear them loud and clear down there.” Harwin sticks two fingers inside of you. Your head falls back as you moan, your pussy squelching as Harwin moves his fingers in and out of you. Your wetness coating the entirety of his digits.
He pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the emptiness inside of you.
“Look at that, boy.” Jace leans in real close, eyes unblinking as he observes your arousal across his father’s fingers. “That’s how you know they’re ready.”
“Got it,” Jace nods. You can see him subtly adjusting himself in his seat, no doubt from his cock straining in his pants.
“Y-you can touch yourself if you want to, Jace,” you murmur and his eyes widen, surprised by how you noticed how much he was fighting the urge not to. “If I’m going to be feeling good, I want you to feel good, too.”
Jace’s hand lowers into his pants as Harwin lays you onto your boyfriend’s bed, flat on your back. “Now you’re ready to start fucking her.”
Harwin lowers his pants and underwear in one fell swoop, his hard cock releasing from its confines. As you glance up at his member, you gulp. Harwin is big. You don’t know how the hell that thing is going to fit inside of you.
“Need to lube yourself up before you do so. Her wetness can usually help.” Harwin scoops two fingers inside of you, and you clamp your hands across your mouth to stop yourself from your moan as he does so. You can hear him fist his cock, lathering it up with your wetness before he aligns it with your entrance.
You aren’t even sure if Jace is still watching as Harwin enters you, the heat of the stretch causing you to squeeze your eyes shut tight as his bulbous tip fills you up.
“It’s important to go nice and slowly at first. Get her used to the sensation before you start thrusting like a maniac.”
Harwin slowly, tortuously, inches his way inside of you, up until the base is flush against your entrance.
You finally open your eyes as Harwin fills you up entirely, looking down at the connection. You practically cum from the sight in front of you, the bulge of his cock protruding slightly from the plush of your stomach.
“Once she’s used to your size, you can finally do this.” Harwin pulls his cock out of you before slamming his entire length back in. You let out a noise between a scream and a moan as your back arches and your toes curl, your legs wrapping around Harwin as he begins to thrust in and out of you at a steady but fast pace.
“Oh, fuck,” you can hear Jace mutter from next to you.
As he fucks into you, Harwin moves a hand up to your clit. “You can’t just use your cock,” he explains to Jace. “You need to touch her clit.” As he begins to circle your clit, you moan at the sensation, eyes closing again as you relish in the pleasure.
Jace doesn’t verbally respond, and you can just picture him nodding along with what his dad says.
“This part is extra sensitive. You get this right, you’re guaranteed to make her cum.” Harwin is relentless in his strokes, his thick cock thrusting in and out of you as he fingers your clit simultaneously. The pleasure you’re feeling is something you could’ve only ever dreamed of before, having never even gotten remotely close to an orgasm with Jace or any of your previous boyfriends and flings.
“Fuck,” you hear Harwin mutter under his breath. His body leans down on top of you as his thrusts before even stronger. “This pussy’s so tight, keeps sucking me back in.”
It’s the first time since he stuck his cock into you that Harwin was actually talking to you and not to Jace, the deep gravel of his voice close to your ear causing you to shudder.
“Needed a real man to fuck you, is that right?” His voice is low enough that you’re sure Jace can’t hear it. Besides, you’re sure that he’s too preoccupied with stroking his own cock to listen, anyways.
Bleary eyed, you slowly turn your head towards the side where Jace sits. Just as you predicted, Jace’s hand is fisting his cock at a rapid pace. His head is thrown back, Adam’s apple bobbing as moans leave his lips. You feel heat rising to your cheeks seeing your boyfriend get off from you, until a hand squeezes your cheeks and forces your head forward, where you find yourself staring into Harwin’s eyes.
“He’s not fucking you right now,” he grunts. “Eyes on me, love.”
As he continues to thrust, Harwin places his body entirely on top of yours. Your legs push back, practically falling behind your ears. The loud pap, pap, pap of his skin making contact with yours is one of the loudest sounds in the room, only second to the squelching of your wet pussy as Harwin’s cock enters and leaves you.
Your senses are practically overloaded now, your nails digging into Harwin’s back as his cock fills you up so nicely. He still thumbs at your clit, the pleasure rising until an unfamiliar sensation develops inside of you.
“W-wait!” You cry out to him, “—f-feels weird!”
Harwin grunts, not stopping from his rhythmic thrusts. “You’re about to cum. Don’t worry, go ’head and cum on my cock.”
“No!” You shake your head. “It’s different!” You don’t have any more time to protest as liquid gushes out of you and a scream leaves your lips as you squirt, all across Harwin’s cock and his torso.
“First time squirting and it’s all over your boyfriend’s dad's cock. Dirty girl,” he croons, but you’re barely aware of your surroundings after your orgasm hits you so suddenly.
Your whole body shakes as the clear liquid gushes all around you. Your back arches as far as you think it can go, and Harwin’s hands on your waist are the only things keeping you from collapsing into the mattress. The man fucks into you as you lay limp in his grasp.
His thrusts begin to lose their rhythm as he grunts, and then you feel his cock pulse inside of you. A rush of warm liquid fills you up, an unexpected heat within your system. You groan at the sensation, his cock still hitting parts inside of you that were sensitive after your orgasm.
Once Harwin’s cum spills all inside of you, he slowly pulls out, your pussy clenching around air as the white cum dribbles outside of you, moving down your legs and onto the bed.
“How’s that for a lesson?”
Your head spins to the side as your eyes widen, having forgotten about Jace in the moment of your orgasm. Your boyfriend looks as much of a mess as you do. His curls stick to sweaty forehead, his face red and panting heavily. You can see his cum that spurted onto stomach, and his cock slowly softening after his release.
“R-really good. Informative. Yeah,” he answers breathlessly, chest heaving.
“Glad to hear it.” Harwin rubs your backside, sitting up on the bed. “We’re not done just yet, though. Still need to teach you about aftercare.”
#harwin strong x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#kinktober#kinktober 2024#harwin strong smut#jacaerys velaryon smut#hotd x reader#hotd smut
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A Perfect Storm
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
summary: meet dr. alice “barbie” sargaent, professional storm chaser
a/n: so twisters 2024 changed my life (glen powell in wet white T-shirt changed my life) so…here’s this. Also I got conflicting info about instagram so for here - no one but those that follow you can see a private accounts comments (even on a public post). Also plz suspend your disbelief - idk anything about storm chasing or tornadoes
Part 2
drbarbie
liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 2,345,239 others
drbarbie: tbt to the very first storm I ‘chased’ and the lifelong obsession that it sparked within me!
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user1: you were so young!
teammember1: nice to know you’ve been crazy for years! 😂❤️
drbarbie: Passionate! The term is passionate 🩵
teammember2: no I think crazy is better
user2: ok but what are Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri doing in the likes…
user3: right?
user4: maybe they watch the Storm Wrangler YouTube channel?
user3: that would be the crossover of the century!
teammate3: awwww baby Dr. Barbie…
drbarbie: I think I made my dad drive around for hours trying to find where the rain was actually coming down
user4: ok that’s adorable
user5: newbie here 👋🏻 why the nickname Barbie?
drbarbie: I’m a 5’11” blonde woman with blue eyes who was in like every conceivable sport and after school program. Some butt starting calling me Barbie as a joke and now people forget my real name 😅
user6: wait your name isn’t actually Barbie? What’s real? What’s fake? Who knows? 🤣
drbarbie: yeah you can blame my twin for that…
loganpriv: you begged for weeks to get a cool nickname and were delighted! To tell people to call you Barbie.
alicepriv: shush 🤐
oscarpriv: oh really?
alicepriv: I said shut up?
user7: you have a twin?!
drbarbie: yup! I’m older then him by about 5 minutes - and I’ve never let him forget it 😂
loganpriv: and another lie! What’s up with that?
alicepriv: I’m gonna tell mom you’re bullying me!
loganpriv: do it! And I’ll tell her you’re lying to the internet
logansargeant
liked by alicepriv, oscarpiastri, and 1,023,677 others
logansargeant: traveling means time to catch up with TheStormWranglers
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user8: you’re a buckaroo too?! Love this!
oscarpiastri: watching the back episodes or the live stream?
logansargeant: back episodes first of course!
user9: ok but they’re both buckaroos too
user10: am i dumb? Buckaroos?
user11: kinda a you had to be there moment - during one of their first live streams teammate2 called everyone on the team buckaroos to get them moving and the fans just? kinda adopted the term for ourselves
user10: ohhhh ok. That makes sense and it’s so cute! Proud to be a buckaroo!
user12: this is gonna be your week Logan!
user13: yeah! Austin has always been really good to you! 🩵
alicepriv: so I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this…
loganpriv: what does that mean?
oscarpriv: Alice…
drbarbie
liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 3,677,345 others
drbarbie: isn’t she a beaut! One of the biggest this year and I’m very happy to say Dolly (and us!) survived it!!! The opportunity to quite literally drive into the storm started as a fever dream from a few of the team members but we proved that it could be done. And this now allows us to gather even more important data — and as we always say, you can never have too much data!
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user14: Watching that almost gave me a heart attack oh my god
user15: i know! And they didn’t even give us any warning that it was something they could do!!!😡😢
drbarbie: We apologize! The team had been so excited and focused on getting Dolly ready for this that we forgot other people don’t live in our brains
user14: what even prompted this?
drbarbie: we were hitting bumps in the research process and as we were brainstorming ideas on how to fix it someone said that the easiest way was to…just go into the tornado. We said “bet” then figured out a way to allow us to do that safely!
teammember1: so I’m switching vehicles. I’m staying with the weather van from now on
drbarbie: oh it wasn’t that bad!
teammember1: I have about 200 new strands of grey hairs and a sore throat from all the screaming
drbarbie: like I said! Not that bad
user16: oh so you’re crazy crazy
drbarbie: we’re doing important research!
user17: what even was the point of all this?
drbarbie: my team and I are researching for a way that would allow us to stop a tornado in its tracks. We’re at the point where we can almost completely accurately predict when and where a tornado will hit — which is hugely important! Cause that allows us to save lives. But my team wants to take it a step further — to stop the storms when they do hit! To help protect people’s livelihoods
user17: holy shit! That’s huge!
user18: I didn’t even realize that is something that could be possible!
drbarbie: we believe strongly that it’s something that can be done. And we’re trying everything that we can to make it happen!
loganpriv: what the hell is this?!?
alicepriv: i told you you wouldn’t like it
oscarpriv: yes but there’s a huge difference between not liking it and it being completely INSANE
alicepriv: the theory was sound
loganpriv: this time - that’s not good enough
INCOMING CALL
ACCEPT OR DECLINE
ACCEPT
TRANSCRIPT
What the hell Alice? Driving into a tornado?
Oh don’t even Logan! Not when the two of you drive those super speed death traps!
That’s not even remotely the same and you know it!
…I know. Ok I know…
Alice…
Don’t. I know I should have told you before but…
Barbs?
I know you don’t like this answer but the theory was sound. We reached out and talked to like 10 different universities on the best way to modify the car and took all the extra precautions we could. The science-
doesn’t lie…
Haha
…you’re ok?
I think my heart is still racing but yes. And it’s almost done!
What is?
Project Aeolus!
Really?
TRANSCRIPT CONTINUES
logansargeant
liked by alicepriv, alexalbon, oscarpiastri, and 627,933 others
logansargeant: ahhhh Austin, my home away from home. It’s always good to come back to you — and the people that live there 🩵
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user19: IS THAT A GIRL LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT?
user20: are we soft launching now?
alexalbon: Did you get a puppy?
logansargeant: no 🤣 just pet sitting for the day! This is rascal!
alexalbon: i think it might be criminal if you don’t let me meet rascal!
logansargeant: I’ll ask! But it will probably have to be after COTA!
alexalbon: worth the wait!
user21: rascal? Like drbarbie’s newest puppy?
user22: no but that dog looks just like her new dog and we know that Logan is a buckaroo!
user21: I've connected the two dots
user23: You didn't connect shit
user22: I've connected them
user24: are my 2 fandoms colliding?
alicepriv: rascal!
loganpriv: i see how it is. I come back home and you just want me to watch the little nightmare
alicepriv: rascal is perfectly well behaved! You’re just a bad example
oscarpriv: I’m agreeing with her. We’ve had no problems with him until you came along…
loganpriv: lies and slander. Objection
alicepriv: law and order again logie?
williamsracing
liked by drbarbie, logansargeant, alexalbon, and 4,034,838 others
williamsracing: all smiles here at COTA as we welcome a special guest! Spending the weekend with us is Dr. Barbie, a meteorologist who specializes in tornadoes with a popular YouTube channel The Storm Wranglers!
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user25: DR BARBIE IN THE HOUSE!
user26: this is everything I didn’t know I needed holy crap
drbarbie: it’s always a pleasure to visit COTA! And it’s even better to visit one of my favorite teams!
williamsracing: so glad to have you here!
user27: ok but do you see the look on Logan’s face?
user28: yeah mans in love
user29: or…and hear me out…he could just be happy to meet her? We know he’s a fan of her channel
user28: no one is ever THAT happy to just “meet” a YouTuber, no matter how famous
logansargeant: Glad you could make time in your schedule to visit!
drbarbie: “But it's the Grand Prix!”
logansargeant: “Is it? Who's playing?”
drbarbie: “No one's playing. It's the Grand Prix. I never miss the Grand Prix.”
user28:…ok maybe you guys connected the dots
alexalbon: it was nice to meet you! Didn’t think I’d ever meet someone who had a more dangerous job then race driving though
drbarbie: same! It was such a pleasure — and don’t even. I’ll take my job over yours any day
alexalbon: really? You’d rather drive after and into tornados then drive in circles?
drbarbie: stupid circles! And yes. Yes I would
alexalbon: they’re not stupid!
user29: ok but they’re funny af
drbarbie
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 2,654,887 others
tagged: williamsracing, logansargeant, alexalbon
yourusername: trading in Dolly this weekend for some faster cars! Zoom zoom 🏎️💨
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user30: COTA! I’m at COTA! 🤞🤞 I might get to meet her and get her signature!
user31: oh my god! That would be the coolest thing ever
user32: you’re at a Grand Prix and meeting some stupid blonde is better?
user31: watch yourself! Dr Barbie is about 1000x better then you are you damn mouth breather
user30: mouth breather? 😂😂
user33: cool you’re at COTA but sargeant? You couldn’t pick literally any other driver to support?
drbarbie: and that’s you blocked. I don’t support hate on my page and I definitely don’t support hate against Logan
user31: you said it so well! Supportive queen!
loganpriv: cool your jets Alice. It’s fine
alicepriv: I don’t support hate but I do support bullying your unsupportive twin. Take that attitude and shove it
oscarpriv: sometimes I forget you’re twins and then I see you interact…
alicepriv: you watch yourself too. I’m soon to be in head smacking range…and I’m tall enough to get you
oscarpriv: yes ma'am
loganpriv: whipped
alicepriv: 🤨
loganpriv: 🤷🏼♂️
alicepriv: 🖕🏻
user34: ok but why Dolly?
drbarbie: why after the fabulous Dolly Parton of course
user35: you named your truck after Dolly Parton?
drbarbie: she’s had a lot of work done but she’s still the best
user35: 😂😂 icon behavior
logansargeant
liked by alexalbon, drbarbie, alicepriv, and 1,208,943 others
tagged: drbarbie, williamsracing
logansargeant: THANK YOU AUSTIN!! P3 baby! AND SPECIEAL THANKS TO MY YOUNGER TWIN SISTER ALICE drbarbie!!!
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user36: SISTER?
drbarbie: yes! He’s my YOUNGER twin brother!
logansargeant: the hell I am!
drbarbie: I HAVE PICTURE OF THE BIRTH CERTIFICATES YOU WET NOODLE
logansargeant: fake!
user36: ok that’s definitely a sibling relationship 😂
drbarbie: HE DID IT! P3!! CONGRATS LOGIE!
teammate1: woohoo! Go baby sargeant!
teammate2: congrats baby sargeant!
teammate3: could you feel us cheering for you baby sargeant?
teammate4: couldn’t be prouder baby sargeant!
logansargeant: not you guys too…
oscarpiastri: congrats man! A well deserved podium!
logansargeant: thanks brother!
user37: brother?!? dots are connecting again!
user38: oh give it up
alexalbon: great race today dude! Congrats!
logansargeant: thank you! You’ll be next!
williamsracing: Congrats Logan!
user39: he saw us shipping him with his sister and said hell no 😂😂
user40: right? Most definitely had to set the record straight!
danielricciardo: good job man!
charles_leclerc: great to share the podium with you!
maxverstappen1: good race!
oscarpiastri
liked by logansargeant, alicepriv, landonorris, and 2,567,432 others
tagged: mclaren, landonorris
oscarpiastri: not the race we wanted today but we’ll come back stronger next week. Congrats on p4 landonorris and congrats to logansargeant on your first podium!
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user41: don’t worry about it Oscar! You’ll get it next week!
landonorris: thanks man! next week will be our week for sure!! papaya rules!
oscarpiastri: for sure! Papaya rules!
user42: it might not have been your week but that overtake lap 12 was INSANE
user43: right? Pretty sure I woke my dog up screaming
alicepriv: it was a good race babe. Glad to have been there to see it 🧡🧡
oscarpriv: you know I always love it when you can come to a race
alicepriv: and you know I always love watching you working for your dream
oscarpriv: 🧡
loganpriv: cheesy
alicepriv: 🖕🏻
alicepriv: anyway…
alicepriv: maybe I can get you to come to my job next? 😆😘
oscarpriv: your job at the universities? Yes. Your job in the field? No way in hell
logansargeant: great race brother! Taking notes on that overtake man
oscarpiastri: thanks Logan!
oscarpiastri
liked by logansargeant, drbarbie, landonorris, and 3,728,899 others
tagged: drbarbie
oscarpiastri: you are the best thing that’s ever been mine
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Part 2
#f1 smau#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri smau#formula 1 smau#formula 1 social media au#formula 1 instagram au#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#oscar piastri#f1 instagram au#f1#f1 fic#fem!reader#white!reader#Oscar Piastri x oc#f1 x oc#formula one x oc#formula 1 x oc
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