#he didn’t get his parents anything either
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— TAMED
PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — You're a cat lover and Feyd-Rautha reminds you of one. You want him and you believe you can tame him.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — This is not exactly what the request was about but it includes Feyd having to deal with his wife's pet (I chose a cat because I'm a cat person myself). You see, I was a bit tired of my Readers being afraid and scared and I was also tired of the arranged marriage trope, which is one of my favourites, but everyone needs a break, huh? 😅
WARNINGS — harm to animals mentioned, brief mentions of Feyd's traumatic past, Reader being absolutely spoiled
WORD COUNT — 4,230
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
TAMED
“I want him,” you announced as you put your binoculars down and your lips curled into a smirk.
Your parents looked at each other, confused. You were in the stands as the guests invited to watch Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s gladiator fight. It was his birthday and his uncle made sure all the leaders of the befriended worlds were watching the display of violence and power. The display that made your parents absolutely terrified but you… You were amazed and aroused. The way young Feyd-Rautha defeated his enemies was like a brutal dance; a raw ritual. He was a feral feline and you were known to be a cat lover.
“Excuse me?” Your father asked.
“I want him. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you repeated without even looking at him. Your eyes were focused only on the man in the arena who was raising his knife in a gesture of victory.
“These people are insane,” your mother hissed.
“You keep telling me it’s time for me to find a husband. I want him,” you pouted. You were determined – but not desperate.
“I can talk to Baron Harkonnen. But I am sure he would rather marry his nephew and heir to one of the Imperial Princesses,” your father informed you as your mother gasped at his words. She opposed the idea of this match completely.
“I understand,” you nodded. “Just do whatever it takes so if you fail, I will know you couldn’t possibly do more.”
He reluctantly agreed as he squeezed your cheek as if you were still a little girl. But perhaps it was a good thing that in his eyes you still were one. Because he would do anything to make you happy and fulfil your every whim.
You spotted your father talking to Baron Harkonnen during his nephew’s birthday party but you didn’t want to just stand in the corner and wait for the men to make decisions in your name. Despite your mother’s protests, you approached Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and bowed slightly in sign of respect. He tilted his head, reminding you of a curious cat. You giggled and he squinted his eyes.
“Na-Baron, I couldn’t wait to meet you in person after seeing you fight in the arena,” you admitted.
“Lady (Y/N),” he greeted you coldly. “I wouldn’t expect such interests from a lady like you.”
“And I expected you would know more about the female nature,” you teased him and visibly angered him although he was trying to be on his best behaviour around guests. “Don’t you know that ladies love violence? The interesting ones at least,” you shrugged your arms.
“I don’t care what ladies like,” he answered. “I always get what I want either way.”
“I’m sure you do,” your eyes sparkled at a possibility of being one of the things he would want to claim for himself.
Most noble women were scared and disgusted after hearing all the stories about Feyd-Rautha and his sexual appetite, his psychotic nature. They would approach him only when needed and tried to stay away as far as possible. You were the very rare breed of women who would actually take interest in him and that intrigued him as he looked you up and down.
You gave him one last smile and walked back to your worried mother who was about to scold you for your reckless behaviour. However, for the rest of the night you kept glancing at the young na-baron and he was looking back.
When you left the party, earlier than most people, you made sure to announce loud and clear that you were about to retire to your chambers. Then you looked deep into his eyes and walked out, followed by a servant. You dismissed her when you were in the guest wing and you continued your journey alone and as slow as possible.
You looked around but Feyd-Rautha seemed not to be following you. At least you could not see nor hear him and for a moment you thought you failed. After all, you were not a skilled seductress, you only did what your heart was telling you to do – your heart and your experience with the animals you loved the most. Cats.
And just like a cat and a skilled assassin that he was, Feyd silently emerged from the darkness when you were just about to open the doors leading to your bedroom. He was standing right behind you and his ominous presence sent a shiver down your spine.
“What are you doing, na-baron?” You swallowed thickly and shivered.
“Don’t pretend,” he whispered in his raspy voice. “You’re not the first spoiled noble lady who wants to use me for pleasure,” he told you. “What is it? Are you bored? Or engaged to an awful lord and you ant to find out what it’s like to have fun before you are forced to spend the rest of your life with him? Honestly, I don’t care,” he admitted and turned you around to face him. His touch was rough and for a second you genuinely felt scared when he trapped you between the doors and his muscular body.
The way he was staring down at you felt as if he was penetrating your soul. Only that his eyes were empty. He was gazing into you but you couldn't gaze back because he didn’t have a soul. There was an endless coldness in his pupils. And so much pain.
“It’s a misunderstanding,” you whispered, almost inaudibly, as the tips of your noses brushed against each other. “I am not one of those women. The only man who can take me will be my husband,” you tried to sound convincing and stern but with a small dose of innocence. He blinked slowly, surprised by your confession.
“I thought you wanted me to follow you,” he insisted.
“No,” you lied. “I was only looking at you because I find you interesting,” you looked down. “But it’s sad what you’ve just told me, my Lord,” you added.
“Why?” Feyd was confused as he took a step back.
“I don’t know… I just think you’re so much more than a toy to use for pleasure,” you looked up again to meet his gaze. “I don’t think you should let those ladies treat you like that. I know you keep telling yourself you like it but it’s not you always getting what you want. It’s them always getting what they want until there is nothing left of you, is it not, na-baron?” You batted your eyelashes and he took another step back, like a predator realising that the prey he had caught was poisonous. “Good night, my Lord… and happy birthday,” you gave him a soft smile and disappeared behind the doors leading to your bedroom.
You couldn’t sleep all night, clutching on the bedsheets and hoping for the best outcome. In the morning your father told you that The Baron was slowly starting to like the idea of your marriage union with his nephew. Apparently, he changed his mind after a conversation with Feyd-Rautha in the early morning.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” your father warned you at the sight of your wide smile.
“Oh, papa, I always do,” you assured him, already excited about your new pet kitty.
You stayed on Giedi Prime for a month for the courting process but Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had the privilege of being able to call off the engagement at any moment. That, however, did not happen. He was growing more and more fond of you each day. You were watching him train and walking all around the fortress as he was telling you about his family’s history and culture. You were the most fascinated by the war stories and weapons, always eager to learn more. Always eager to let him steal a kiss here and there, let his hands wander but always stepping back when it would get too heated. You didn’t want him to use you and then discard you. No, he had to be patient for the real reward. Just like cats would lose interest if you let them catch the mouse too quickly.
What you noticed about him, though, was how much he avoided the intimate physical touch. He didn’t mind his opponents striking him or choking him, violating his body in any way, really. But the delicacy was making him flinch and startle to the point of aggression. He wouldn’t lash out at you but he would do that often at the servants. When it was you trying to caress him, he was clenching his jaw and shooting you a deadly glance. The more you knew about him, the more convinced you were that he was just a cat in a human form.
When a month passed, you were scared he would send you away. But instead of doing so, he sent a tailor and a bunch of servants to your room. It was time for you to make all the required fittings for your wedding dress. You sent out the invitations, too. And in the letter addressed to your parents, you mentioned all the things you wanted them to bring you to Giedi Prime.
One of them was your favourite kitty Mephisto.
On the first day of your marriage you were unpacking the boxes from home as Feyd was sitting up in bed and watching you. It was the only day he allowed himself to skip the daily training as the activities between a husband and a wife could count as one, too. However, you required a break and wanted to finally reunite with your favourite items… and your favourite pet.
Feyd’s eyes widened at the sight of a hairless cat in the arms of the servant girl.
“What is that monstrosity?” He asked you.
“That’s Mephisto! My cat!” You took him from the girl’s arms and cuddled him. “Oh, mummy’s been missing you, baby,” you cooed to him and he started to purr.
“You can’t be serious, wife,” Feyd moved closer to inspect the creature with his eyes. Mephisto hissed and you giggled. “That is a cat?”
“You’ve never seen one?” You asked.
“I have. But not like that. It’s ugly,” Feyd scrunched his nose.
“Why ugly?” You gasped and held Mephisto’s head lovingly as if you were protecting him from your husband’s harsh words.
“Cats have fur. This one is so…”
“Bald?” You teased and he closed his mouth, realising the irony. “I have plenty of cats back home but I was aware I couldn’t bring them all here. I chose Mephisto because he is my favourite. We had tough beginnings. He didn’t trust me and he was scratching me a lot. He’s a mean-mean baby,” you leaned in to kiss the cat and Feyd winced as he found it disgusting.
“Do whatever but I don’t want this creature in my chambers,” Feyd stated.
“You’re insane! Mephisto will never leave these chambers. I don’t want him to get lost or hurt in the fortress. Also, he always sleeps with me,” you protested.
Feyd took a deep breath in as he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down.
“If he scratches one thing… I will throw him out of the balcony door,” he threatened.
“If you do that, I will never speak to you again. And certainly I won’t ever share the bed with you, husband. Mephisto is like a child to me. You can’t threaten me this way. It does nothing but anger me,” you pointed out and cuddled the cat. “Aw, Mephisto, look, daddy’s angry.”
“I am not this thing’s… father,” Feyd drawled through gritted teeth as he stood up to put a robe on. “After all, I think I will go train today.”
“Then go,” you shrugged your arms. “I will cuddle with Mephisto in the meantime because I haven’t seen him in a month.”
Feyd shot you an angry glance.
“You’re not jealous, are you?” You looked up as that sudden realisation hit you.
“No,” he snorted. “Of this thing? Please,” he sneered at you and left the chambers.
“We have lots of work with your new daddy, Mephisto,” you chuckled to the kitty and kissed its head. He meowed at you.
Feyd-Rautha absolutely despised your cat. He hated that you allowed that creature to sleep in bed with you and you were always holding him in your arms. When Feyd was working on paperwork – which he hated – Mephisto would often jump on his desk and bother him. Many times when you were out of the room, Feyd had the urge to grab the creature and throw it out of the balcony or even snap its neck but when he actually extended his hands to catch the cat, the urge disappeared.
First of all, he didn’t want to hurt you. And that was a brand new feeling for him because never before had he cared about someone’s feelings like that. And second of all, the moment the cat was in his arms, Mephisto would start to purr and rub his head on Feyd’s hand or chest. Even though at first he found it disgusting, he quickly started to enjoy it. There was something comforting in the cat’s touch. It was not human and yet so pure. As time passed, he was allowing Mephisto to nap on his lap as he worked on the papers. Of course he would quickly put the cat away whenever someone was coming. He didn’t want anyone to see him so weak.
But he was jealous of the cat, too. He was jealous of the kisses and attention he was getting. The belly rubs and scratches behind the ear. The way Mephisto would curl up and sleep on your chest. Feyd craved it from you, too, but he didn’t know how to allow himself to ask for it. It would be humiliating, he thought, but also dangerous. He wanted to trust you but he was not able to. And whenever you tried to touch him gently, he was haunted by the memories he didn’t want to remember. He didn’t cuddle you at night and he didn’t allow you to do the same. While performing the marital duties, he had a feeling they would be even better if he allowed himself a little gentleness but he just couldn’t let his guard down. Not even around you.
For a long time, Mephisto was the only creature that saw the soft side of your husband. When they were alone in your chambers, Feyd would let him not only nap on him but he would also carry him in his arms and pet him. Sometimes he was starting fights for the cat to scratch and bite him and for Feyd it was great fun. They created a bond that you had no idea about. You kept thinking that your husband despised Mephisto and he didn’t mind you thinking this way.
So, when you spotted a scratch on Feyd’s desk one day, you panicked. You quickly covered it with a few papers laying aside and fixed your hair right before your husband walked inside the chambers that afternoon.
“What are you doing here so early?” You asked as he squinted his eyes at you, suspiciously.
“I have to work on the papers, answer some stupid letters,” Feyd sighed and approached you. He put his hands on your waist and inspected your suspicious face. “Is everything alright, wife?” He asked.
“Yes, my dear, perfectly fine,” you faked a smile. “I have to go and work on the preparations for the event next week,” you reminded him and he nodded before leaning in to give you a possessive kiss. He would give you them a few times a day to remind you to whom you belonged. Not that you minded. After all, you had been wanting this from the moment you had seen him in the arena.
“See you later, then, wife,” Feyd sat by the desk and your heart skipped a beat when you spotted him picking up one of the papers you had used to cover the scratch with. However, he didn’t seem to notice the damage done to his desk. You sighed with relief and left the chambers, hoping that Feyd would continue to be blind when it came to that scratch.
But when you came back to your bedroom two hours later, it was empty. You didn’t expect to see Feyd because he had his other duties to perform on that day. What worried you was the fact you couldn’t find your cat. After crawling all over the floor like a madwoman, trying to see if he was not hiding under any furniture, you just burst into tears in the middle of the carpet. You were sure that Feyd had spotted the scratch and gotten rid of your cat. After all, he had threatened to do so on the very first day of your marriage.
You pulled your knees to your chest and rested your forehead on them as you sobbed, hugging yourself. You could only blame yourself. Your parents had been warning you about the Harkonnens but you still wanted a man like Feyd-Rautha as your husband. Hoping to tame him as it would boost your spoiled ego even further to do that. And now your innocent little kitty was a victim of his fury. Was Mephisto still alive? You hoped so. But even if… how would he survive on Giedi Prime? He would not. And you would not either without him. He was your anchor.
You didn’t want to complain about your husband’s homeplanet because you chose him to be your husband yourself. And some part of you loved him – even though at the moment you weren’t so sure anymore – but it was not a friendly place. And it was not pleasant. It was cold and scary and colourless. Mephisto was reminding you of home. Of your other kittens, of your parents, of the real sunlight. He was also letting you love him like your husband would never do. And he was loving you back… unconditionally. And now he was gone. Your little baby.
You couldn’t tell for how long you had been sobbing like this. It could be hours. When Feyd came back to your chambers, he froze at the sight of you in such a position on the carpet.
“What happened, wife?” He asked as he stood above you. You didn’t answer, too angry at him. He sighed and crouched down to be on your level. “Are you hurt?”
“Yes, I am,” you finally looked at him, furiously. He seemed to be surprised. “I am hurt by what you have done. And now you’re going to pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about, right? Go to hell. I hate you,” you snapped and hid your face again.
“I don’t understand. Can you explain this to me?” He asked, slowly, trying not to snap back at you.
“Mephisto! You got rid of him!” You sobbed.
“What? I have not…” He stuttered and put his arms on your shoulders to make you look up again. So you did but you were as angry as before.
“Don’t lie to me. You hated that cat and you just threw him away because he scratched your desk. Congratulations, Feyd-Rautha, you got rid of an innocent animal, you won with a sinless little baby; my baby. Are you proud of yourself? Was it a satisfying victory to hurt a little kitty?”
Feyd didn’t answer, he was staring at you as if you were crazy.
“It really feels as if you killed my baby,” you told him. “And I will never forgive you.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t touch him. What happened?” Feyd shook your arms.
“He’s not here. I don’t know what you’ve done to him but he’s not here,” you sniffled.
“I didn’t do anything!” He protested.
“I don’t believe you!” You moved back, you hated to feel his touch on you. You clumsily stood up and curled on the bed. “I don’t want to see you. Go away. I wanted to love you but you’re rotten to the core. You’re just evil. Unlovable,” you muttered.
You couldn’t know how hurtful your words were. But Feyd didn’t blame you because you couldn’t know his true feelings. And he focused more on Mephisto anyway. He was worried about the kitty, too. So, after a while of staring at you without a word, he put his hand on his hip and looked around, as if he would magically find the cat. He even looked under the bed as your sobs filled the room.
Without a word, Feyd left the bedroom and you hugged your own arms as the pillow under your head was getting wet from your tears.
It was dark already and you were half asleep when the doors opened again. It brought you back from the state of slumber but you felt too hopeless to even lift a hand to turn on the light. You recognised Feyd’s silhouette approaching you so you decided to ignore him completely. Nothing could fix this damage. Never.
You felt him sitting on the edge of the bed while turning the bedside lamp on. You squinted your eyes at the sudden brightness.
“I found him,” Feyd’s whisper made your eyes open as you sat up rapidly, utterly shocked at the sight of Mephisto in your husband’s arms.
“Wh-what?” You asked. At first, your sleepy and foggy brain refused to believe that the cat was really your Mephisto.
“He was hiding in the dungeons,” Feyd explained. “I searched through the whole fortress to find him. Hired half of the guards to help me. My uncle found it hilarious,” Feyd handed you the kitty and you sobbed out of relief. Mephisto was stinking but he was alive and healthy. You hugged him tight to your chest. “One of the servants was not cautious enough and left the doors ajar when she was cleaning here.”
“Which one?” You asked, angrily.
“It doesn’t matter. I have dealt with her already,” Feyd assured you and you nodded.
You suddenly began to feel guilty for the way you had treated your husband before. Now, when Mephisto was back in your arms and it was all thanks to Feyd…
“I didn’t expect you to care so much,” you admitted, not wanting to look up and meet his gaze. Your hands focused on caressing the cat. “That you didn’t want me to be sad.”
“You’re my wife of free choice. I don’t want my wife to be sad,” Feyd nodded. “And I wanted the cat back,” he added. You eventually looked up at him, surprised by his confession.
“You hate him,” you reminded him.
“Not at all,” Feyd smirked nervously and you didn’t say anything to that. You had no idea that he actually liked the cat. You still had a lot to learn when it came to the ways in which your husband would show his affection.
“I was cruel to you,” you whispered. “I am sorry.”
“You had your reasons to be,” he only said. “And you were not wrong about me.”
“I was,” you moved to the side gently, making a space in bed for him to lay there, too.
So he did, without a word. And one of his hands actually caressed Mephisto’s head. The cat began to purr and you realised they had already had a bond that you had just not noticed before.
Hesitantly, you dared to raise one of your hands, too. You gently brushed Feyd’s forehead and then his cheek. He didn’t startle this time and you happily began to explore every curve of his beautiful face with your fingertips.
“You’re funny,” you giggled and he looked up, curiously. “You’re the scariest Harkonnen but you’re also the prettiest,” you admitted and he blushed a little. You had never expected to see him blush. “And look at you, you allow me to touch you.”
“It feels good when you do that,” Feyd closed his eyes just like Mephisto had his own pair shut close. You swore, if your husband was an actual animal, he would start purring under your touch.
You felt proud of yourself to tame him. You had known from the moment you had seen him that you would succeed. But it was not the pride that made your heart swell. It was love. There was something about Feyd-Rautha that just made you want to treat him like a kitty, too. Scratch him behind his ear and let him sleep on your chest. Most ladies would call you insane for that but you knew him in a way they would never know him. You leaned in to place a kiss upon Mephisto’s forehead and then you did the same to Feyd-Rautha.
“I’m sorry I have doubted you,” you whispered to him. “You would never hurt me, am I right?”
He only hummed in response, moving even closer to your body. You smiled to yourself.
“I have tamed you, husband, have I not?”
But he didn’t reply. He was already asleep, snoring lightly. You had never seen his face so relaxed and carefree before. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know the answer.
And as much as you loved Mephisto like your own little baby… You had a new favourite pet now.
MASTERLIST
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Ughh 😭 I've been searching for like a week and I can't find it - do you/anyone who follows the blog know of the fic where like, Tim is a canine shifter (I can't remember if he was a dog or a wolf) who gets kidnapped and forced to stay in canine form due to a drug? And then batman/the police find him and the other kidnapped shifters but because he can't transform back they keep him in wayne manor for a bit? And then tim doesn't want to shift back because if they see him as a human they'll figure out who his parents are/his parents will get in trouble? It's complete but I have NO idea what it's called 🤭
It doesn't fit your description exactly, but it's one of the only ones that has Tim refusing to shift back.
'Is this the end? (do i fall into your arms again?)' by sharks_sharks (applecider15)
Author: @applecider-15
The pup was so fucking small Jason swore that he could snap his neck with one hand. He froze as Jason spoke and looked up at him with his big blue eyes.
“Still don’t feel like shifting?” He asked as he raked his hand through some of the pup’s muddy matted fur. He was filthy and had gotten Jason’s trousers completely mucky, but he didn’t mind that much, mud was easy to wash out and there were more important things at the front of his mind.
The pup didn’t reply, and didn't try to shift either. Jason sighed and rubbed the pup’s jaw. The pup hadn’t showed any adverse reactions to touch so far, in fact if the way he had melted in Jason’s hands earlier when he had rubbed his ears was anything to go by it calmed him. But the lack of scent on the pup put him on edge.
#ao3#fanfic#batfam#batfamily#dcu#fic rec#batman#jason todd#tim drake#fluff#ao3 link#ao3 fanfic#fanfiction#found fic
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DC fucks up really bad with queer characters. I know people throw around “Conner should had been the queer one and not Jon,” a whole lot and it mainly comes from like Timkon shippers or whatever who are kinda bias and just be saying that to say it so it loses the nuance.
But let me get into why I think Conner should had been the queer one and not Jon as an avid Jon Kent stan, a Supefam lover, Conner Kent stan and a non Timkon shipper.
Conner Kent since the beginning of forever has been rivaling the concept of good and evil in his head and how he has roots to it. Conner has literally since the beginning of forever struggled with his identity because he was a test tube baby who never had a childhood or parents, a home or family, he only had a title to uphold. He has spent so much time trying to find his place in a family that won’t accept him for what he is. He’s been split between two worlds and has to make a name for himself. His anatomy doesn’t belong to him and he feels disconnected from everyone else.
That within itself is an allegory to the queer experience. If Conner was made queer then not only would it coincide with his character but it’d give him structure as an individual. It would be nuanced and a powerful feat for his character.
Jon, to put it kindly, is a nepobaby who’s barely had to work for anything in his life. He became the man of steel just because it was in his blood. He never rivaled or fought for anything or questioned his identity in a way that parallelled the queer experience. He came out as gay and for why? He never even worked for the queer title either, he was just queer one day. We never got to see him give it so much as a thought. They didn’t want to represent a queer character as much as they wanted to have a queer character.
Which one of these characters would had been an interesting choice to work along side of the title of The MAN of Steel and be queer?
It wasn’t Jon, I’ll tell you that.
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since ur now writing for Zach can I pls get a Jared Bailey one shot?? You have free rein and no rish at all for this req. thank uuu fic mommy
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of Jared being drunk, drink, flirting, friends to lovers trope, love confession, slight sexting (Jared is bold when he’s drunk), unprotected sex, semi rough actions, biting, scratching, but more love making pretty much? Slight angst, maybe? Fluff with a dash of smut
Based off of this TikTok.
Word count: 4.4k | not really edited
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
You weren’t really excited about Coachella, but your friends on the podcast were destined to change your mind.
You joined the podcast earlier on in the year, and when Coachella came around, you had a ticket that you couldn’t get out of - no matter how hard you tried.
“Come on.” Tara begs, “You need to come with us!”
You sigh, “Tara, I don’t r-“
“You’re either coming or you’re fired.” Zach says and Jared steps in, “Hey now. Don’t say that, a lot of people like her.”
“By those people you mean you?” Zach teases and Jared’s face turns a shade of red, “That- No. I didn’t..” he laughs, “I think it would add to the fun if y/n came with us.”
You let out a long, dramatic sigh, “Twist my arm harder why don’t you?”
——
Weekend one was a partial blur.
You get bits and pieces as you look at the photos you took, which were a mess by the way, but they were so funny to look at.
You had to admit, you were so glad you didn’t try to back out last minute.
One thing in particular that you remember clear as day is standing in the crowd, Jared’s arm around you as you listen to Lana and Billie sing ‘Ocean Eyes’.
You were in total awe of them, just like Jared was of you.
He looks down at you a gently smile resting on his lips as he admires your face. How your eyes are glazed over from a mixture of alcohol happiness because being here was so much better than you had originally thought.
Even though he was slightly plastered, Jared couldn’t seem to keep his love drunk stare off of you. You’d look up at him and he’d just smile at you before looking back up toward the stage.
Every now and then Tara would elbow you and smirk, teasing you about how close you and Jared have become, “I told you, you needed to come.”
You roll your eyes, smiling as you lean into Jared’s body more. Another think you remember,is how you and Jared went back and fourth, all night stealing drunk kisses from each other.
It quickly turned into a competition and the race to find who can steal the most by the end of the night was on - and you won that race.
As weekend one at Coachella came to an end, you can definitely feel that you and Jared are closer. You text and talk on the phone more. You pick on him during the podcasts more and even though his red cheeks scream that he hates it, he secretly loves any attention you give him.
You tried not to let it get to you, but you were questioning yourself on why he hasn’t said anything about what happened.
Fuck, pictures get out from fans, you’re most likely getting a dating label slapped on your asses.
——
W E E K E N D • T W O
“Sucks you can’t come tonight.” Jared says as he puts on his hat. Your eyes move up his body, and you nod as you lean back in the chair, “Yeah, but you know what they say, your moms birthday only happens once a yet or something like that.”
Jared starts laughing and you join in, proud of your joke.
“God I love you.”
You both freeze and he laughs nervously, “You know, cause you’re my best friend. You got that label faster than Zach did.”
You smile slightly, keeping the pain of being friend zoned as contained as you can, “Right.”
He must not remember last weekend.
You nod, “No I get it.” You stand up, checking your phone, “I gotta go. I have to get dressed and then go to my parents house.”
You walk towards the door and stop before you leave, “Have fun tonight.” You smile and he nods, “It’ll be hard without you.”
You laugh, “Call me if you get bored.” As you walk towards the steps, Jared yells out, “You’re going to regret saying that.”
——
As you’re sitting in your parents living room, you get a text from jared and you smile as you read over it, Ready for that phone call yet? I’m bored out of my fucking mind.
Attached was a selfie of him from the chin up. You save that, adding it to the collection of birthday post photos, My sister is taking forever to get ready, so if you want to call quick you can.
Within a quick minute, your phone lights up with JareBear🧸🤍 appearing across the screen. You bring it to your ear as you answer, “Is it really that bad?”
“Oh god, you have no idea.” He groans on the other end, “The artist we’re waiting for, I guess is Ice Spice, but she doesn’t come on until later.”
“sorry to tell ya, sweetie, but you got a few more hours yet.” You laugh slightly and he sighs, whining out, “Don’t make it worse.”
You smirk, “Sorry, sorry.”
Your mind races as you think about just asking him if he remembers what happened last weekend and why you aren’t his girlfriend yet, but as soon as you get read to, your mom rushes out, “Okay. Okay. Shes finally ready.”
“Sounds like you gotta go.” Jared sighs, “Tell your mom I said happy birthday.”
You don’t want to hang up, but you know it’s the right thing to do, “I’ll call you later.” You laugh as you stand up, “Don’t get drunk, too fast.”
He laughs, “I’m not making any promises, sweetheart.”
You tilt your head, “Yeah, yeah.”
“Y/n.” Your sister waves you on and you nod, “Alright, I’m being herded so..” you laugh, “Be safe. Call if you need anything.”
“Promise.”
You hang up and walk over to your sister. She stares st you and you give her a look, “What?”
“That JareBear?” She smirks and you scoff, “I- none.. of your business.” You walk down to the car and she sighs, “The way he looks at you on the podcast, y/n,.”
You stop before you open the door and you nod, “When he looks at me.. I feel like he’s looking at me like I’m actually something worth looking at.”
She juts her lip out and furrows her brows, “He sooo likes you.” She laughs and walks around to get in. Your mom looks back at you, “How’s Jared?”
You feel your cheek heat at the sound of his name, “He’s good. He says happy birthday by the way.” She smiles, “Tell him I said thank you.”
You look down, tapping the screen to type out a text to Jared, My mom says thank you for the birthday wishes.
You see the bubbles pop up and you smile at how fast he answers you, I love your mom, she’s so nice. You smile, Yeah, now you know where I get my niceness from.
You rest your phone down and watch out the window as your mind races about what you are with Jared.
——
As the night goes on, you can tell that Jared is getting drunker by the hour, but he still manages to answer you right away.
It might not be anything related to your previous text, but he still answers you.
You cover your mouth as you read the texts coming in from Jared, “Oh my god.” You lean over to your sister, whispering lowly to her as you bring your phone between the two of you, “look at this.”
I have a glowsitck
Gkoesyick
Fuck
GLOWSTCK
damn it
You laugh and type back quickly before he sends another text, Are you drunk again, J?
You knew calling him J would get him. You don’t do it often, but you’re the only person who calls him that, so it drives Jared crazy in such a good way.
“Do you think he is?” Your sister asks and you laugh with a nod, “Dude.” You lean in, “Last weekend we-“ you glance up at your mom and dad, who are lost in conversation with their friends.
You lower your voice, “When we were drunk, we were all over each other. Literally had a competition to see who could steal kisses from the other most.”
“Who won?”
“Me.” You smirk, and she nods, “Good, carry on.”
You continue filling her in on the night and she smirks, “If you guys don’t become a couple by the end of night, I’m calling him nyself.”
You laugh, looking down as you read his text, Maybe a little bit, and don’t do that.
You bite your lip, playing innocent, Don’t do what?
Your sister leans in, “I think he’s just waiting for another sign that says you want him.” You roll your eyes and before you can argue, she sighs, “This is a man we’re talking about, okay? As much as we hate it, most of them are stubborn as fuck and can’t see what’s right there.”
You shrug, “i think I’ll ask him when I talk to him tomorrow, when he isn’t drunk.” You sip your wine and almost spit it out at your sister’s next statement.
“Invite him back for your place tonight.”
“I can’t do that.” You laugh nervously as you sip your wine, “that’s.. what if.. I can’t..” you shake your head and down the rest of your wine, just in time for the waiter to come and refill the glasses.
Your phone vibrates and you look down after thanking the waiter, You know whayt swerthesr t
You smirk, Are you having fun, J?
“If he wakes up at your place then you have no choice but to talk to him about your relationship.” Your sister nudges you, “That man loves you.”
You smile, pressing your lips together as you chew on your inner cheek. You look down at your phone and your heart skips a beat at Jared’s text, I rally wish yoi werehere we coujd have a repest of last week emf.
You chew on your thumbnail, really thinking about what your sister said, until your mom pulls you from your thoughts, “right, y/n? Honey.”
“What? Sorry.” You laugh slightly, “I think I had a little bit too much wine.” Your mom laughs, “I was just telling Erica about you and Jared, how long have you been together?”
“You do that Dropouts Podcast with him, too, right?” Erica adds and you sigh, “Mom.” You laugh, “Nothing is official, and please don’t be spreading that stuff around.”
“Yeah mom, if that gets out and it’s not true, the fans will come for you.” Your sister jokes and your mom rolls her eyes, “Oh gosh, you and these influencer rules and stuff.”
She goes back to her conversation and you go back go looking at Jared’s message, So you do remember.
He instantly responds, it’s short but you understand, I do.
You look around, excusing yourself before you get up to go to the bathroom, composing yourself because this is a step in the right direction - but you were naturally nervous.
You lean against the sink as you type, I was kind of worried you didn’t remember all of the things with us. That’s about all I can remember.
You look in the mirror, fixing your hair and reapplying your lipstick before walking back out to the table.
Everyone is standing and gathering their things to head to the car. You follow them out, lagging behind with your sister to fill her in on the conversation.
“Progress.” She nods, “Good progress.”
You can’t help but smile as you get in and you look down at your phone, “They’re watching Ice Spice and then I don’t know what they’re doing.”
“I’ll go get him if need be, just..” she looks at you, mouthing out the words, “Get him to come over.”
You roll your eyes, laughing as you shake your head, “I just..” she cuts you off with a tap on the arm and she shakes her head.
“Fine.” You smirk, “I’ll do it.”
——
The car ride from your parent’s house to your house was nerve racking. You stayed there a little bit after and the heat that’s been building up in the conversation between you and Jared was now on fire.
You sat in your car staring at the messages Jared had sent when you were driving, I’m drimk.
So ddrunk.
I love yoy
I’m drunk and o love hou
You rest your fingers over your lips, jumping slightly when you see his incoming call, “Hey, Jare. You doing okay?”
“I was just.. you haven’t answered my texts and I-“
You cut him off, calming him down, “I just got home. I’m still in my car. Here.” You tap the FaceTime icon, “Go to FaceTime, Jare.”
It takes him a second but when his face pops up on the screen, he smiles when he sees you, “Hiii, pretty girl.”
His words send thousands of butterflies lose in your stomach, “It’s me. Hi. I read your texts and I really think you should Uber to my place when you leave Coachella.”
He raises his brows with a smirk, “I guess it’s a good thing I’m already on my way then, yeah?”
“Wait.” You perk up, “Seriously?”
He laughs, “Yeah I’m walking to my Uber now. I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay.” You bite your lip, “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
“I love it when you talk dirty to me, see you soon, baby.”
Your breath hitches and you smile, “See you soon.”
You hang up and race inside, moving around to make everything look nice and neat before running to get a quick shower.
Once feeling refreshed, you opt for a simple t shirt and sweats and your body froze when you heard the door open, “y/n. I’m here.”
You take a deep breath before making your way out, “Hey.” You smile and walk over to him, “How was Ice Spice?”
Jared stares at you before failing at trying to hold back his laughter, “shit, okay. Zach is probably going to bring this up on the podcast because he loves to embarrass me, but-“
He laughs harder, “Okay, so, with us being whatever we are now, would you get mad if I say something about another woman’s ass?”
You furrow your brows in confusion and shake your head, “No.” you raise them, tilting your head, “but, now I’m really intrigued.”
Jared pulls you over to the couch, tossing his hat down on the end stand before he sits down next to you, “so..” he turns towards you, “I’m going to be honest.”
You nod and he sighs, “I was watching the show, and I was thinking about you, and then..” he laughs, “I never knew that someone ass could move like that before.”
You cover your mouth, laughing as you lean back, “Oh my god, Jared.”
“And it..” he lowers his voice, “Turned me on, so then..” He brings his voice back to normal volume, “I naturally thought of you and you know..” he reaches up, brushing hair from your face, “How you make me smile..”
You smile and he smirks as he brushes his hand over your cheek, “and I’m also super horny, but that is way besides the point.”
He laughs slightly and without any hesitation on your end, you grab his face and smash your lips into his. He groans slightly and his hand reaches out to grip your hip, “Mm.” He leans back slightly, eyes scanning over your face, “Do you want to do this?”
You nod, “Do you want to be with me?”
A smirk grows across his face as he nods, “Of course I fucking do.” He pulls you in, kissing you once more as he pulls you into his lap.
His hands snake under your shirt and his cock grows harder as he rolls your perked up nipples between his fingers.
You let out a moan, grinding down on him as he kneads your boobs, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.” Jared whispers, slipping one hand out from under your shirt so he can cup your cheek, “Take your shirt off for me.”
You nod, bunching up the bottom of your shirt before you pull it over your head. He unties his bandana from his neck and leans forward just enough to slip his shirt from his body.
“So are you.” You lean in, kissing up his chest to his neck then over to his lips. His hands grip your hips, moving them slowly as your tongues dance for dominance.
He wins and bites down on your bottom lip, earning a moan from you. You look down at him when he lets your lip go and you whimper, “Can I finally have you?”
He bites his lip, pulling you into him as he sits up to meet you, “You, my love, can have whatever you want.”
You smirk and slide your hands down, nails dragging against his skin. His jaw falls slack when you lift up to slim a hand under you to palm at his aching cock through his shorts.
You lean in, lips brushing against his ear, “You feel so big, J.”
“Fuck.” He breathes out before pushing his lips to yours. He pulls you into him and rolls you over so your back is flush against the cushions, his lips staying on yours for another minute or so before he sits up to pull your sweats down.
He raises a brow when your bare cunt is revealed to him, a smirk rising on his lips “Almost like you knew I was coming over or something.”
You shrug, giving him a wink, “Gut feelings, you know.”
He smiles and stands up to take his shorts and boxers off before returning to the place between your knees, both naked and so beyond hungry for each other.
“You sure?” He asks one more time and you lay your hands on his cheeks, “Need you in me, Jare.” You pull him closed with your ankles that are locked on his lower back and he groans, “Fuck, baby.”
Your lips part as you feel him rub the tip of his cock against your soaked opening. He pushes in and you gasp out, clinging to him as you feel him stretch out your tight walls.
“Fuck.” He gasps out, burying his face into your neck, groaning louder as he pushes fully into you. You moan loudly, dragging your nails over his shoulders as your lips desperately search for his.
“J-Jared.” You whimper out, getting him to lift his head, “What, baby?” He leans up, putting his weight on his elbow as he brushes hair from your face, “You feel so fucking good.”
“Mo-move. Move, please.” You move your hips and he nods, pulling out and sliding back in. His forehead falls into yours as you both let out moans.
His grip on your body tightens and your hand find its way to his hair, tucking at his hair, “Feels so good.” You breathe out, “I love you.”
His hands travel up to find yours. He pins them above your head and deeps his thrusts, “Say it again.” He whispers, “Please.”
You look up at him, lips parted and brows furrowed as you moan out, “I’m so in love with you.” His lips twitch into a smile, “I’m so in love with you.”
He dips his head down, connecting his lips to yours with a fiery embrace.
You clench around him, whimpering against his lips, “I’m so close. So so close.” You rock your hips and he nods, pulling you to sit up, still straddling his lap.
His cock slips back inside of you and you moan, head tilted back as you grind your hips into his. He slides a hand up to the back of your neck, pulling you down to kiss him.
His other hand holds your hip, squeezing as he groans into your mouth, “Fuck. Where do you want me, sweetheart?”
“Fuck,” you whine, “anywhere.”
You dig your nails into his skin and clench around him, curse words and his name rolling off of your tongue loudly,
He lays you down, his thrusts resuming as soon as your back hits the cushions, “You feel so good.” Jared groans in to your neck, “You’re going to make me cum a lot faster than I wanted to.”
You kiss him, biting down on his bottom lip and gently letting it flop back against his teeth, “Good thing we have all night, right?”
He smirks, nodding his head, “Was hoping you’d say that.” He leans down, thrusts growing sloppy as his lips connect with yours.
You cup his cheeks, clenching around him as you help him chase his high, “Feels so good, J.” You whimper out, “cum for me.”
Your words, delicate yet so, so filthy, push him over the edge.
He pulls out, spilling his cum onto your pelvis with a groan. You gently kiss over his cheeks, rubbing a hand through his hair as he comes down.
He plops next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before getting up to grab you a towel, “Do you.. uh, want to shower with me?”
You smile, and despite already getting one, “As long I wake up to you still in my bed in the morning.”
“Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that not happening.” He smiles and holds his hand out, “Come on.”
——
T H E • N E X T • P O D C A S T • E P I S O D E
You sat there, completely soaking up the fact that no one in this room that you and Jared have been seeing each other.
You kept looking over at him and when he’d look at you, you’d look down quick and pretend you were picking lint off your pants or something stupid like that while you fought back a smile.
“Oh! Speaking of Coachella!” Tara says leaning forward, “What was your guys best parts about it?”
They each go around, Tara says music, Zach makes some stupid joke. Alyssa says the music and seeing the outfits.
“I think.. one of my favorite parts about Coachella, was from weekend one.” Jared says and Tara glances at you, “He’s going to say the Lana performance.”
“How did you-“ Zach smiles, his cheeks turning red, “but.. Yeah. That was just.. a really good moment for me.”
You smirk at Tara and take a deep breath, “Jared was one of the best parts about my Coachella.” You look over at him and he smirks, lifting his hands.
“Every time I saw you, I just got so exited.” Jared smiles as he nods. You nod, “It made me excited, you picked me up a few times as just made sure I was okay. It was cute.”
“Yeah.” Jared says with a huge smile, “You said that that thing wasn’t really your style so we all kind of agreed to try and make it as fun for you as it could be.” Jared smiles and you pout, “You do love me.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Zach says, “Anyway-“
“Way to butt in and ruin the mood, Zachary.” You roll your eyes and laugh. Zach gasps, “Oh. Speaking of..” he points to Jared, “What did you think of that Ice Spice performance?”
“Oh my god!” Tara gasps, “I loved it!”
Jared’s mouth falls open and you start laughing because you already know where this is going.
Zach is definitely calling Jared out about it on the podcast, “Dude.. no.” Jared shakes his head and lays his arms out on the desk, “I didn’t know asses could move like that..”
Jared pauses quickly, “It was incredible.”
You cover your mouth and shake your head, “Oh my god.”
“And she’s also an amazing performer..” Jared continue, “I don’t know too much of her music, but..”
Zach tilts his head, looking at Jared, “How did it make you feel watching that thing, um-“ Jared cuts Zach off, “Fucking turned on, what are you talking about?”
Tara laughs, “oh my god.”
You lay your fingers over your lips and all you can do is laugh and shake your head.
“But also like.. amazing..” Jared says and you point, “Wait.. that’s so weird you called me after Ice Spice then.”
Everyone looks to Jared and he has a huge smirk on his face.
“Ooh, Jared. What were you doing?” Alyssa teases and you laugh, “And you’re like hey, are you home? What are you doing tonight, y/n?”
Jared continues to smile, getting slightly nervous, “Umm..” he laughs and you tilt your head, “isn’t it crazy that you did that?”
Jared waves his hands, “I’m.. gonna have to go no comment on that..and then..”
You all laugh and Tara mocks Jared, “He was like, I just watched Ice Spice, y/n what are you doing tonight?” She laughs, “oh my god.”
Zach chimes in, “If you guys did hook up in the dessert, would you speak about it?” You purse your lips and look over at Jared.
He shakes his head slowly and all you can do is giggle.
“I think, y/n would.” Alyssa says and you laugh more. Tara points, “Instead of where did Tara wake up this morning it would be guessing where y/n woke up.” She laughs harder and you shake your head, looking at Jared and he knows exactly what you want to say.
He fights back laughter, “Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”
You laugh, “Oh, sorry. I was just thinking like if we did hook up this past weekend, like would it really be that crazy?”
Instantly Tara leans in, “No.”
Alyssa follows, “I second that.”
“wh-what!?” Jared laughs, “What does that mean?”
“But on a serious note, what would it have taken for it to happen, though, Jared?” Zach asks and Jared smirks, shaking his head, “Not a lot.”
You laugh along with everyone else, until Tara grips your arm, “Wait! No fucking way!”
“Oh, I think she cracked the code.” Jared laughs and you nod, “Yep, give it a second.”
Tara looks between you and Jared and shakes her head, “No, fucking way.” Zach looks so confused, “Why is she tweaking out? Tara I told you, you can’t do that here anymore.”
Tara flicks off Zach, not even looking at him before taking off her headphones and waking away. You look at Jared, “I think we broke her.”
Alyssa gasps, “No! You didn’t!”
“There it is.” Jared laughs and Tara walks back over, “I remember you leaving now, Jared. You sneaky mother fucker.”
“What the- oh shit. Everybody. Jared finally lost his virginity. Let’s all give him a round of applause.” Zach claps and you laugh.
“I hate you sometimes.” Jared says to Zach as he laughs, shaking his head while his face grows redder.
——
I hope this didn’t suck. I haven’t been in the writing mood lately, but as usual, let me know what you thought.
Thank you for reading! Ilysm! 🖤
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
#samandcolby-ownme#jared bailey#jared Bailey x reader#Jared Bailey smut#Jared Bailey fluff#Jared Bailey one shot#Jared Bailey oneshot#Jared Bailey x reader smut#Jared Bailey x reader fluff#Jared Bailey dropouts#Jared Bailey dropouts podcast#Jared Bailey and Zach justice#dropouts podcast#dropouts podcast Jared Bailey#smut#fluff#coachella#Jared Bailey Coachella
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#as always ignore this#prob gonna be doing rants till I get home im sorry :(#but ever since i was pregnant ive had this problem with gagging right#never once gagged unless it was on a dick lol#anyway i had to hold my fathers hand while we prayed and a gag came up 😭😭😭#I CANT CONTROL IT#he didn’t get me anything for Christmas and i didn’t expect him to#he didn’t get his parents anything either#or my sister#I didn’t wanna be purposely/obviously rude so I got him something#i got him some star wars thing idc#I even wrote ”dad” on the label because I didn’t want it to be weird#I haven’t called him that since high school I think#I took a picture of it too to show my sister lol#& i caught him in a lie so that was entertaining at least lol#(also feels weird that i was pregnant today of last year and had no idea. i even took ”food baby” pics after Christmas dinner not knowing +#that I was literally pregnant lmao#BUT my father & i are going to dinner wednesday because i can’t say no to save my life 🤪#if you made it this far i love you & hope you had the best christmas <3
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No bc fuck tim but it really really bothers me how people ignore his growth like he used to be an asshole and I’ll give tim Stans one thing: now he’s so so so stale but what I disagree with is that this staleness is bc nobody likes him like it’s in fact the exact opposite where everyone likes him so much they dont want to do anything. Even when it’s him surface level challenging Bruce it’s when everyone else is doing it too; but he’s still the backbone of the fam! Etc. and it’s so irritating bc him gaining more compassion and empathy even for people he doesn’t fw is so fun to watch and that’s why the captain boomerang thing was so out of character! (Not in a from the author way but in a tim wouldn’t do that and he and Bruce both knew it which is why it went down like it did. Same way dick killing joker was ooc; not in fanon sense but in a he would hate himself forever for this sense) and speaking of that it’s such an interesting mirror to Bruce who genuinely believes that everyone can grow vs Tim’s it doesn’t matter if they grow it’s not my decision to make like it’s the same but it’s not AND WITH CASS’ IT DOESNT MATTER IF THEY CHOOSE NOT TO GROW I WONT DO IT! like ugh. And anyways even when people acknowledge it they boil it down to “Janet and Jack taught him that the capitalist pigs that they are” like no. This is who tim was. Tim was the kind of guy who’d blame a dead kid for dying. That’s ok. Also Janet and Jack? Please reread anything involving them that’s not a fic like Jack had anger issues and they were both aloof at worst like relax.
#the Jack and Janet thing is both an understatement and an exaggeration but I don’t think anyone reads enough to care#some tim stan might get all pissy and be like ‘no look this is everytime jack yelled at him and boarding schools are abusive’ to which#and its like narratively that means nothing bc the tim you made up to justify the Drake parents you made up by blowing shit out of#proportion is also made up and if all of that was abusive there’d be smth to show for it besides ur homophobic Jack#too girlboss to care but still terrible Janet bc god forbid a woman have a personality from ur fics#anyways that’s also the reason I’m ignoring the council of spiders#well two reasons#first is that was just a moment to make tim look cool and did absolutely nothing for him or his character moving on#like at all#I’d say it fucked with his previous established dislike of killing for his own reasons#and while that COULD be interesting it’s not bc they didn’t do shit with it#and fanon doesn’t do fun shit with it either#nothing about how tim in his most manic state did shit he doesn’t want to remember shit he’d HATE other ppl for#just “’remember what I did to ur base Ra’s? mess with me again and see what I do next 😼’#like ok can you be real and genuine?#anyways I think#AND NOT IN A HATER WAY#Tim would benefit from being humbled#like genuinely I detest the world can’t move without tim running it but the idea that tim thinks that way is so good to me#and#I think next step being him realizing that’s not true would be a BIG push for his character#bc like I said tim Stans are right in the fact that he’s stale as hell rn#but that’s bc there’s nothing to say bc there’s nowhere to go! y’all want a tim action story where he shows off how badass he is reread#the Bruce quest and maybe it’ll remind you he’s not ceo lmao but anyways there’s nothing internal to say about him atp bc nobody wants to#say anything that’s not propping him up. same with Bruce! Gotham war was such a copout but it’s like ppl are saying he’s stale and it’s bc#god forbid he makes a lasting fumble. and I’m not under the illusion this is new I’m just saying it’s weird that fandoms not clocking it#anywayyys I really do like thinking about the No killing rule and how different it manifests for each perosn#like the way each distinct difference tells u so much about them#UGH ONLY SLIGHTLY RELATED BUT DUUUUUKE BEING LIKE IDGAF ABOUT GUNS LIKE UR SO REAAAL#anyways enough tim positivity for today FUCK THAT NIGGA!
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#I will never fail to understand my parents logic#tarp blew off my husband’s broken down car yesterday#they waited until it was dark out to tell him#there’s a forest out back and so my husband rightfully tells them that that’s not 100% safe he’ll do it in the morning#he forgets which like okay#but then they don’t say anything to him and instead say something to me at 10pm as I’m about to go to bed#and get huffy when I tell them that’s not safe one of us will do it in the morning#‘we told him that yesterday and he didn’t do it and now you’re not either’#yeah because we live at the edge of a forest and I’m not going out on the poorly lit back street at night#also like this is the first I’m hearing of this so like#idk they wanted it done yesterday and I’m only just hearing of it now idk what they expected#also like people forget sometimes my husband isn’t purposefully not putting the tarp back#‘he should have done it when it was still light out’ yeah but he forgot#and while I appreciate them reminding about it#it’s not helpful that they’re giving me attitude about something I’m only just learning about#and it’s not helpful that they’ve been upset about it all day and choose not to say anything until 10pm once again#idk what kind of fucking weird logic they run on#but they pull this crap all the time and I’m tired#it’s not even a big deal tbh and they’re blowing it up and making us sound lazy and ungrateful and I’m just#it’s his car if anything he’ll get a ticket not them#like chill tf out#not putting the tarp back is a character flaw apparently#pls stop
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i literally hate my job i want to quit i’m so done with this
#having kids literally attack me day after day with no support from the directors and also feeling awful because i don’t want to upset the#kids either but like today the one boy he had to wash his hands cuz he literally put them in the urinal and he was punching me and stuff#that he didn’t wanna do it so i closed the door so i could get some hand sanitizer or wipes instead and he got upset (maybe he felt trapped)#which i understand but like nothing else i can do so now this kid hates me but i’m the one who is getting punched and scratched and whatever#literally every day and i know they’re kids but im really fckjjnf tired of this#have them scream and throw things at me and the other teachers and take them to the directors only for them to be sent right back to class#and I’m literally not trained for this and they don’t tell their parents anything so we get literally no help like if a kid is having a hard#time and acts out aggressively I understand it’s maybe not something they can control but then they should maybe be at a school that can#give them the help they need because I’m doing my best but I can only do so much and I didn’t want to make this kid upset or angry but also#he can’t go eat food and touch the other kids and so on with hands he put in the urinal 🙃🙃🙃#I want to quit I’m so f king tired of this sjir#delete later
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I really be cursed for everyone I meet to just end up using me huh
#I live the next town over from a college town#that’s like. everyone fucking hates the college kids#especially cause this particular school it’s all just assholes with rich parents#unfortunately for me it’s also full of cool looking alt people who keep fucking me over#cause I fall for the crust pants and platforms and cool hair#then suddenly I’m talking them outta suicide every night and basically parenting them#like full on making sure they’re getting food this recent one giving him a place to crash so he didn’t have to live with his ex#driving them around paying for everything despite the fact they’re unemployed and their rich ass parents buy them everything#meanwhile I actually work and am struggling to pay my bills every month#I can’t afford to feed myself but god knows they’re getting everything they could ever want#and still being ungrateful and rude#and I’ll be like hey maybe u should go to a professional yk im not a therapist I can’t help with ur whole suicidal thing#and they get mad at me and throw me away cause oh no they have to work on themselves and take accountability#I’m not gonna keep spoon feeding some fucker who’s gotten life on a silver platter#idk there’s two very different sides to punks I’ve met#there’s either punks who are punk cause they have been through hell and fucked over by the universe and have a genuine understanding of the#beliefs it comes with and the morals#and there’s the punks who maybe sure like the music and the style but have never had to so much as raise their voice to be heard#never had to fight for anything#which isn’t inherently bad I wish I was that lucky#but they’re never really aware of that privilege and just expect to be handed everything#and get pissed if they are expected to be held accountable for being an asshole#ghost rambles
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Sometimes ... a character doesn’t need to become some kickass numb angry bastard to be seen as strong... sometimes a lack of bloodshed is strong...
#Like Rasset never has a moment where she ‘stoops to her family’s level’ and berates her horrible bio family members#She doesn’t become angry or cynical or anything like that#Yes soon enough she will begin to gain confidence in a safer environment but this never makes her rude to her bio family or anything#Lemla and Nilla don’t need to kill their dad to show that they’ve moved on or smth#None of Alex’s family get physical or wish harm upon her. they’re just disappointed and disturbed by her actions and cut it all off.#Tina and Tom don’t need to harm Alex physically or mentally either. Tina doesn’t cheat and once Tom remembers he chooses to move on#Vannie doesn’t instigate things with his parents like his uncle and his family does. he doesn’t care. he has other things to do#Luanne chose to pretend she didn’t have parents due to their neglect. She would never go out of her way to harm them as revenge#Nor would she want others to do on her behalf. Kicking their ass bc of what they did to YOU is fine but don’t try to ‘avenge’ her#Valerio doesn’t need to kick his twin brother’s ass.#Milly and PB have no desire to ruin Derrick’s life. they’re angry at his abandonment and will let Denise get her anger out#but they don’t want to harm him personally or pray on his downfall. they can move on#lost of innocence is fun and violence is also fun I love fictional violence but also .#sometimes the ‘soft’ way out is nice.........
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IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH THE F1 DRIVERS
Wondering what it would be like to date the f1 drivers? 😏
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warnings: not much, fluff?, implied smut, (smut?), dirty thoughts, mentions of breeding kink, cursing.
Max Verstappen
-he's your biggest fan. in every way possible. he loves to support you, to admire you, to see you happy.
-you're his biggest love. he didn't think he could fall for someone that hard. he's completely whipped and everyone knows it.
-gets jealous a lot, but doesn't always show it, although you know better. he doesn't like it when other men look at what's his.
-that's why he has decided that from now on every man will know who you belong to. either by covering your soft neck in bruises or making you walk out of the bathroom with your cunt stuffed of his cum. he absolutely enjoys seeing you squirm all night and try not to make it obvious to everyone in the room that his seed is dripping down your bare legs.
-he loves how submissive you are for him. of course you love being a spoiled brat sometimes just for the fun of it, because then he gets feral. and you always know it’s gonna end in a lot of orgasms.
“I thought you wanted to be a brat? What happened, schat? Fucked your tiny brain out?” his thrusts hit a spot inside your pussy that makes you see stars. He slaps your cheek to get your attention, knowing you’re going dumb already.
All you can do is cry out and shake your head. You can’t talk. You can’t even think. You’re too busy trying to jerk away from his harsh thrusts.
You know he doesn’t like it when you don’t answer him.
“Talk.” he snaps, squeezing your cheeks tightly then slapping you again.
“YES daddy. Sorry for b-being a brat. Please, please! Make me cum!”
Lewis Hamilton
-spoils you all the time; expensive jewelry, cars, clothes, lingerie, vacations… whatever you need or want. also, his card is always on your phone. he insists you use it anytime you want.
“Get yourself something nice, baby… I want to see you dripping with my wealth. You are my beautiful little wife.”
-will always have a hand on you. in the car while he's driving, on your b*tt when you're walking, on your thigh when you're having dinner with your parents and his fingers successfully rub a spot on your clit through your panties that makes you twitch and moan every time. thankfully, your parents were oblivious.
-kisses the ground you walk on. he's a grown man and isn't afraid to show you how a real man loves his woman.
-especially when he's between your legs, showing you how you deserve to be treated.
“Come on, princess… gimme one more. You’d do anything for daddy, isn’t that right princess?” he softly rubs your cheek with his finger, thrusting a little bit more inside your tight and overstimulated cunt.
“D-daddy… too much. I don’t think I can…” you whimper stupidly, still slightly shaking with the intensity of the last orgasm you just had about 2 minutes ago.
He smirks. “Of course you can, baby. Don’t you want daddy’s babies? Hm?”
He loves how pathetic you get after a few good orgasms. He knows he’s the best you ever had. He can make you cum anywhere, anytime. You let him do whatever he wants to you.
Carlos Sainz
-can be possessive at times, but loves to show you off. you are his most prized possession.
when he met you, he knew he wanted to date to get married, not like the relationships he had before.
-takes you everywhere with him; vacations, races. he can't stand being away from you.
-he secretly fantasizes about you carrying his children. until one night after a baby shower when he confesses to you.
“Mi amor… You don’t know how beautiful you looked today with my niece in your arms. I can’t wait to get you pregnant. Make you my precious wife.”
His touch on your thigh gives you goosebumps, and you suddenly feel impossibly aroused by his confession. He didn’t even need to ask. You’d give him as many kids as he wants.
He recognizes the look in your eyes. The craving, the lust. He knows you like the back of his hand. “You’d like that, no? To walk around all round and heavy with my child. To make these tiny tits swell and burst with the sweetest milk…” he grabs at your breasts and squeezes, making you moan in response.
“Yes, papi. I want to have your babies… please touch me…”
Lando Norris
-you're his best friend. his rock, the girl of his dreams.
-datind lando is the most intense experience of your life. he is a fierce lover. but loves to be soft for you sometimes
-he loses his mind when you're being bossy with him, showing off your bold attitude.
-especially when you're making him beg for you.
“What did you say?” You smirk, hovering on top of him, teasing him sometimes with a swift rub of your wet pussy on his erect and red cock.
Poor baby, you edged him for too long and he couldn’t take it anymore. His cock twitches every few seconds and you know he isn’t going to last too long.
“Please, baby… fuck, please.” His voice is hoarse when he talks, probably from all the moans you pulled out of him already. “Let me fuck you, I need it. I have so much cum for you baby… Please.”
You moan at his words and decide to stop the torture. You needed him too. Nothing compares to the way he stretches your sweet little pussy. Quickly, you align yourself with his cock and sink in, making the both of you moan loudly.
Charles Leclerc
-you're eye candy for this man. ever since he saw you he couldn't take his eyes off you.
-he loves to have you at the races. he's constantly trying to show off and be the best, because he loves the look on your face when he wins or he's doing good.
-he's going to be the most romantic man you've ever had. he's always touching you, always tells you what an angel you are, how beautiful you look, what a good girl you always are for him…
-ESPECIALLY if you’re bent over his lap while he’s driving and you’re sloppily sucking on his cock.
“Mm, fuck. That’s is, mon ange, suck my cock. You’re such a naughty girl.” he mocks you almost, and it makes you even more eager to show him who’s in charge. for once.
Gagging a little, you take more of his length in your mouth, forcing your throat open. Suddenly, you feel his hand slap your ass hard and you can’t control the loud moan that threatened to escape you. Your throat squeezes his head perfectly then, and he lifts his hips up a little, hissing at the sensation.
“Gonna make me cum, baby, fuck.”
Your efforts double when you hear that, and you wrap your small hand around his cock, starting to pump his hard, heavy shaft. Your swollen lips are still wrapped around his head, licking and sucking on it desperately, waiting for his hot, salty cum.
The car stops abruptly and you assume he just pulled over. His hand then snatches your hair in a messily done ponytail and forces your head down his cock, making you cry and gag uncontrollably.
“Take it. You greedy girl. Take my fucking cum. Fuck.”
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#formula 1#f1#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz smut#carlos sainz imagine#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#max verstappen#max verstappen smut
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a little less conversation, a little more action, please
[rings bell frantically] CALLING ALL PPL WHO HAD BAD SEX EXPERIENCES!!! if that’s you, this is for u :D ! this has been in the drafts 4 months and i’m excited to set it free! enjoy! 8k words, fem!reader, oral (f receiving) MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+
You think you might be the only person your age in the whole of Hawkins who doesn’t seem to get the hype.
Couples have been caught all over in the act. At the drive-in cinema, in the back of the cinema, hell, even beneath the bleachers at school — tongues down each other's throats and pants around their ankles, so caught up in each other that they don’t care about consequences. That it’s that good, that it’s worth the risk.
Sex.
You just don’t get it.
Once upon a time, one boyfriend ago, before you’d ever experienced it, there had been an inkling of eagerness within you. Curiosity twined in with piqued interest, you wondered eagerly about when you’d find someone who’d show you all about why sex got its reputation.
And then you had it— with Samuel Cosgrove in his twin bed when his parents were out of town, 3 weeks into dating him. Your expectations crumbled.
You decided quickly that everyone must be lying if that was what you were supposed to be looking forward to. It wasn’t… sexy. You didn’t feel sexy having it either.
It only left you feeling somewhat awkward and a bit foolish, with Samuel trying to ruck your shirt up even though you had asked to keep it on. Embarrassment crept in easily at how you seemed to be half a step behind him the whole time, not quite warmed up, not quite sure if this was the mood, not quite ready to take all your clothes off.
The springs on his bed were loud and squeaked with every shift of weight. The whole thing sort of hurt more than anything.
You chalked it up to the first time, dredging together your hopes even as they rapidly deflated inside you, cemented by Samuel’s sloppy kiss that missed your mouth and landed wetly on the corner of your lips when he finished.
His sweat stuck to your skin and you didn’t feel sexy, or good, or relieved or anything else the dozen Cosmo magazines under your bed promised you would.
Next time, you said to yourself. You had even confided in your close friend, admitting to the underwhelming experience, and asked quite plainly when it ‘got good’.
“The first time always sucks!” She’d assured you, her voice a hushed whisper over the diner table.“Trust me, the first, like, three times totally suck.”
You didn’t mean to but, subconsciously, three became the number to reach— get through the first three terrible times, and… all would be peachy in paradise.
And so when the next time was… underwhelming, you weren’t exactly surprised. Worse, was how it wasn’t anything Samuel did but what he said that stuck with you long after he’d drifted off on your sheets. Lying in the cradle of your hips, Samuel had traced his hand up your legs and then frowned, yanking his hand back. You had startled, propping up quickly to ask him what it was.
“You’re spiky,” he said, chuckling in a mean way. You could feel your chest ache pathetically at his words and you instinctively tried to curl your legs in, wanting to hide them away. So what if they were? It was the middle of winter and he’d surprised you, showing up at your window to sneak in.
When the fourth time happened and disappointment weighed heavy on you again, you deduced the truth. Sex was some big scam- some stupid joke that everyone was in on and just pretending to enjoy.
It was easier to blame sex if only so you didn’t blame yourself. But… it niggles in the back of your brain, a line-up of indisputable facts that all point to the same thing. That, maybe sex isn’t the problem — but you are.
And, look, it’s not really a problem when you’re not dating or seeing anyone.
… Enter Steve Harrington.
Admittedly, Steve was not someone you thought you would ever date. Or maybe it was the other way around, that you thought that Steve would ever date you.
His reputation as a bit of a player was as far from something you were interested in, especially considering your feelings towards sex, but… he had sort of proven you wrong every chance possible.
One month of dates and it’s been no more than holding hands and kisses on cheeks. You’ve kissed him properly, of course, once or twice, but lest you give him the wrong idea, they hadn’t been much more than a quick kiss. Steve still seemed to glow afterward, no matter what.
It made you feel good. Safe. Warmed you to know he was happy with whatever affection you felt ready to bestow, and never pushed for more.
You could tell he wanted it. It was hidden in the flex of his fingers and even the not-so-subtle adjusting of his pants when he’d invited you over for a dip in his pool. You’d shown up in your bathing suit— and it was the most amount of skin Steve had ever seen from you and it did not go underappreciated. He had been touchy, hands skirting up your sides, but still respectful.
And strangely enough, you find yourself… wanting it too.
Wanting for his touch, thinking about letting your own hands wander across his skin to find what makes him sigh, makes him groan in pleasure, what might make him whine. It surprises you, the ferocity of your eagerness, how it presses your thighs together tightly and licks pure arousal up your spine — even when Steve’s not even trying.
(He was, you just didn’t know it. Steve knows exactly when girls seem to be looking at his arms and he’s unashamed to say he will flex his muscles and pretend he hasn’t. Robin has caught him doing this several times.)
And today has been nothing short of wonderful.
A balmy Saturday which you found yourself swept up in Steve’s company over at his house, laziness fuelled by the golden sun rays of the day.
You weren’t even doing anything in particular, just enjoying being near each other. You had stretched out on a pool lounger with a book in your hand for the most part and it was with giddy delight that Steve seemed more than chuffed to just lay beside you, sizzling in the sun and then occasionally cooling off in the pool.
Which is a spectacle all in itself.
The sight of his chest gives you one or two steamy ideas, especially as it drips with water when he pushes up on the edge of the pool. His biceps bulge deliciously as you peer over the edge of your book, not as subtlety as you might think. You honestly don’t even mind if he catches you staring, not when this is your view.
Your eyes trace the sparkling drops of water as they roll down his chest tantalizingly slow, through the chest hair between his pecs, down, down, trailing down his happy trail— fuck, okay, he totally caught you staring.
Your eyes dart back up to his face to find Steve’s already looking at you, his eyes holding a playful mirth to them. His smile looks just a little bit cheeky. Bastard.
Water splatters on the tiles where he walks as he pads over to collect his towel bunched on the end of the lounger beside your own.
“Good book?” He asks sweetly.
He says it as he scrubs the towel over his face, drying it off and then starting on his hair— he gives it a quick rub over rapidly so that when he pulls the towel away, his hair is sticking up in every direction. He holds the towel to his chest and gives his head a quick shake, like a dog, shaking out the extra water.
When he looks up at you again, beginning to towel dry his bare chest, you realise you haven’t even attempted to answer his question.
“Book.” You echo. Steve chuckles a little bit and it kickstarts your embarrassment, finally remembering to say something else. You hold the book up to gesture with it, “Yes! It’s good, it’s…”
Steve’s resumed drying himself and you find your words leaving you as the towel drags down his tummy, leading your eyes with it. Your mouth feels suspiciously dry. Want. You want him.
“It’s…?”
He’s teasing you again. You startle, wondering if he’s purposefully trying to put on a sensual towel-drying show for you. You’re surprised to find you’re actually glad that he is.
It feels like another subtle way to affirm all his affections for you without all of the touchiness you’ve yet to reach with him — come and get me, it’s like he’s saying, if you want.
You snap your book shut. “It’s too hot to be reading, I think.”
Steve frowns in his worry and steps forward, closer to you. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead lightly. “You feelin’ too warm? Y’gotta careful being out here too long if you aren’t gonna swim.”
He sounds on the concerned side but there’s a touch of cheek in his voice too, like he knows why you haven’t turned the page for the last 5 minutes. It stokes the firey feeling that’s beginning to burn in your gut. A smile curls at your lips and you huff a little laugh, leaning back and batting his hand away from your forehead.
“Yes, mom.” You jest, hand falling back onto the lounger. You lean back onto it to get a better view of him. “I’m not too hot.”
Steve grins. “Oh, I would say the opposite. You are, in fact,” He leans in closer, one hand coming up to push some hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, fingertips on the edge of your jaw. “Very hot.”
You couldn’t stop your reaction if you tried— which you do try, some sputtering cough with a duck of your head as you feel your body flush hotly at his words. His forwardness is something you’re still getting used to.
Just as you’re about to stumble through a poorly constructed sentence, Steve saves you— reaching over to grab his rumpled t-shirt and pulling it over his head. A small, disappointed, part of you wilts. You catch yourself from being so obvious, scooping up your bookmark and stuffing it in a random page.
Steve offers his hand out for you to take. “C’mon, we both need some water I think.”
You ponder if there’s a second meaning to his words as you trail along beside him, letting him lead you back through the sliding glass doors that open to the kitchen with your intertwined hands. Steve gives your hand a quick squeeze before he drops it to open the fridge, peering inside. You lean back against the counter, arms folding loosely over your front and allow yourself to look at him.
Your boyfriend. It sounds even a bit strange in your head and you know if you tried to say it aloud, it would get caught on the way out, tripping over your teeth. Calling him your boyfriend cements all those expectations you worry so much about… even though, not-so-secretly, you revel in the fact thats he’s your boyfriend.
“Thinking hard over there, I can see,” Steve comments teasingly and you blink, realising he’s already looking at you. He must have asked you a question and you missed it.
“What?”
Steve laughs a bit, pink lips pulled into a slight smirk. He shakes the bottle in his hands a little bit, bringing your attention to it. “Did you want to try some of this? I think it’s sparkling and…”
He trails off, pulling the bottle closer to his face to scan over the front of it. You can’t help but think the furrow in his brows as he reads is adorable. He hums, obviously not finding what he’s after, and flips the bottle over.
“…raspberry flavour?” He finishes, looking up at you, brows raised. He gives a little shrug. “That sound nice?”
You think about it for a moment and then shake your head. Steve laughs in agreement and places ii back in the fridge, some mumble about his mom leaving it here the last time she visited home. He turns back to the fridge still rummaging. “Okay, anything in particular you want?”
You are thirsty but… your stomach swoops as you realise it’s for something else altogether. If you want it though, you’ll have to ask.
“Maybe, a kiss?”
Steve freezes for an instant, then he whips around like he’s not entirely sure he’s heard correctly. The fridge door clatters loudly and he quickly grabs it, stopping the rattling bottles and looking mighty flushed when he shoots you a grin.
“A kiss?” He checks. He lets go of the fridge doors to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, too aware of his own unsubtle eagerness. “I heard that right, didn’t I?”
A nervous chuckle scrapes out your throat but you nod. You uncross your arms but can’t settle them, crossing them again nervously as Steve comes closer. His brown eyes scan your face intently, searching to make sure he’s getting every signal right.
When you smile assuredly, Steve sighs in relief and his shoulders drop an inch. He smiles too, his hand reaching up to hold your faces cupping your cheek. His strokes across your cheekbone as he talks. “Oh, thank god. I was beginning to think, maybe, you just weren’t into kissing me.”
Then he leans in— and you hold your breath without meaning to.
The thing is, Steve is a good kisser. A very very good kisser and even your strange gaspy noise as you try to remember to breathe is not enough to ruin the kiss. His plush lips capture yours and have you feeling as hot as the day, a heat blooming in your chest and spreading like wildfire. Your fingers flex at your sides.
You push up on your toes without even thinking, to steal more of his touch, and when Steve breaks the kiss, you’re embarrassed to find yourself chasing his lips. You clear your throat and avert your eyes, sinking back down— embarrassed at showing how much you’d melted under a single kiss.
You just don’t realise how it looks to Steve.
“You do… right?”
Your head pops up, eyes widening as you try to comprehend his question.
“Like… kissing you?” You ask meekly, more embarrassed that he’s asking for confirmation. Embarrassed that you’d somehow been overly eager and also convinced him of the opposite in one kiss. God, maybe there is something wrong with you.
“Yeah.” Steve nods, pulling back a little further from you— like he needs physical space in case you say something absurd like ‘no.’
Your hands react faster than your mind, reaching to grab his shoulders to stop him from putting space between you.
“Yes!” You say loudly. You try to rein in your embarrassment for his sake, swallowing your nerves which feel thick and swollen in your throat. “Yes, I like kissing you. It’s just, I’m… I’m worried.”
How do you say this? How can you explain that you’ve been so afraid of your kisses going a few steps further because then- then when things get heated and Steve’s expecting things, you have to explain that — that what?
That you’re not really sure if you even like sex, or maybe that it just doesn’t seem to work for you or — or that there’s probably just something wrong with you that means you can’t figure out how the hell to relax and enjoy sex- and that it’s not his fault but probably totally yours but—
“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve cuts into your spiralling thoughts, having seen the dilemma spilled across your face. “Stop thinking what you’re thinking and just, like, take a breather.”
He places his hand on his chest and mimes a deep inhale. You copy him without thinking, chest rising and falling in sync with his, unable to look at him for a moment. When you find the courage to dredge your eyes up to his face, his eyes are soft and his brows have knitted together in concern.
“Good.” He praises, hand falling off his chest to rub gently at your arm. “Okay, now instead of doing all that worrying up there just… tell me what’s worrying you. Please?”
Part of you want to huff and hide, to make him really pry so you know that he means it. It’s dramatic, you know — especially because he’s being so good at communicating. He’s asked outright. You try to put the words in the correct order.
“Just… we haven’t— I haven’t kissed you a lot because I’m worried about what it might lead to.” You say quietly, eyes back to avoiding his gaze. You stare at his chest, the tuft of chest hair peeking out, and do your best to swallow the knot in your throat.
“And I— I don’t want to disappoint you,” you admit, frustrated at how a familiar sting burns at the back of your eyes. “But I- just, in the times I’ve gone that far and— and slept with someone, I didn’t… I just didn’t like it. I didn’t enjoy it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut tight, proclamation out in the open, and try to take a deep breath— just like Steve had instructed mere moments ago. Courage gathered, you open your eyes and peer up at him again.
“Oh,” Steve breathes. You can nearly see the cogs turning in his head, his eyebrows twitching as he takes in what you’ve said and what it means for the two of you. “Oh, well that’s okay. I mean, if you didn’t want to I would never—“
“—That’s not the thing.” You interrupt. “I want to. I do. I just…” Your voice trails off, taking on a trembling whisper as you say the thing you’ve yet to say aloud yet, for fear of speaking it into existence. You can’t quite look at him, eyes focused on the kitchen tiles instead.
“I think it’s me. I think— I’m worried there’s something wrong with me.”
Your words hang in the air for a moment and Steve feels his worry shift into something deeper, something closer to devastation, as he realises how deeply you believe what you’ve said.
You genuinely think there is— even thinking it makes him want to scoff aloud. He forces himself to focus on consoling you here and now, instead of riling himself up with thoughts of whatever— whoever lead you to your immense self-doubt.
“Well, there’s not,” Steve says plainly. Like there’s no room for discussion— his hand drifting down your arm to gather your hands in his own. They get swallowed, his hands huge when compared to your own.
“There’s nothing wrong— you- you could never disappoint me in that way.”
Your eyes lift from the ground to his face, desperate to see if you can see the truth in his words. He can tell- fuck, he can already read you so well.
“Honest,” He insists, giving your hands a quick squeeze. “I promise you, okay? I- if I was disappointed over something like that it would be- that would be such a dick move.”
“Well, you wouldn’t be the first.” You mutter bitterly.
The words slip out without entirely meaning to; you aren’t trying to start a pity party but how are you supposed to explain why you think the way you do? How can you explain why you’re so worried about taking it further? Deep down, you know he deserves to know.
Steve’s eyes widen for a moment, your words sinking in and cutting as they go. He doesn’t want to think about you sleeping with other people, for all the jealous reasons, but mainly because everything he’s learned today is that nobody has taken proper care of you.
It twists his heart thinking of some fucking idiot not taking his time with you, not getting you comfortable— so that you get to this point, embarrassed, avoiding his eyes, and so entirely convinced that you’re the problem.
“Look,” Steve says softly. His hands squeeze yours again and he tries to think of how best to say this. “If we never sleep together, I don’t care.”
That catches your attention, your head jerking up to look at him — what? That has never even been an option with dating someone. Not in your mind, at least. You find yourself reeling, fumbling for words but Steve just keeps talking.
“If you don’t wanna, I don’t wanna,” Steve shrugs, like that’s all there is to it.
“There’s nothing wrong if it’s not really your thing.” Another squeeze to your hands. You look up at him, aware you must look a picture of bewildered — there were a thousand ways you imagined this conversation going and this was not one of them.
A smile pulls on his lips as he chuckles a bit, eyes falling to your conjoined hands. “Hell, for all we know I’d add to your disappointing experiences.”
You laugh quietly but it’s saturated in fondness. He’s taking jabs at himself to make you feel better.
“Hardly likely, considering the rumours I’ve heard about you,” You murmur lowly. You find it in yourself to squeeze his hands back, peering back up at him. Steve’s brows rise and he grins.
“Oh? And just what rumours are we talking about?” He teases.
“Shut up,” You say, no heat behind it in the slightest. Your chest is starting to feel lighter and lighter as the reality of his words sink in. “You know what they say about you.”
Steve grins wider. “That I slept with Mrs. Click just to pass her class?”
“What?” You wrinkle your nose at the horrid picture of your old English teacher with your boyfriend. “No! Did people really say that about you?”
Steve’s grin fades, edging towards jaded. He gives a soft sigh, tilting his head back an inch. “People say everything and it all means nothing unless it’s coming from the right person.”
He wriggles a hand free from your unaware tightening holding to brush his knuckles against your cheek tenderly. A piece of hair flops over his forehead, curling back upwards, and the buzz of cicadas fills the empty noise around you.
“So, I don’t know if some asshole told you or you just think that you’re wrong, but…” Steve inhales, his eyes darting between yours.
The brown in them is intense, holding you fixed beneath his heavy gaze. “If— just you said you want to so, we can try and- and we can go slow and I’ll stop the moment you want to, okay? For whatever reason.”
You feel a strange bubble of hope churn in your gut. It feels too good to be true.
“…You’re sure?”
“M’sure,” Steve nods. “Even for something as small as you don’t like the way my dick looks or—“
A laugh startles out of you and you shake your head. “I meant more about stopping but good to know anyways.” You pause a moment. “…Should I be worried?”
You’re teasing. Steve delights in it, his own voice slipping that little bit lower— his knuckles on your cheek swiping across, down your jaw, til he lingers near your neck.
“Why don’t you find out?”
The hunger in your tummy returns with a new heat, rivalling the day. You suddenly feel nervous again, a roll of nerves turning over, but this time it feels far closer to anticipation. The kiss you’ve been yearning to give him, hot and messy, burns up inside you and when you rise on your toes, Steve meets you in the middle.
Your lower back presses against the counter as Steve leans into you, his mouth slotted against yours. One kiss snowballs into another, and another, the fervency growing as you let yourself give into your desire. Your hands on his shoulders shift, trailing down to feel up the chest you’ve been gawking at all day.
Steve lets out a quiet grunt as your nails dig in and his other hand finds your waist, tugging you to press against his body — his other hand slides into your hair, clutching the strands loosely. You sigh into his mouth, nerves still alight beneath your skin but the way they buzz makes you feel good. Steve makes you feel good.
Right as his hand scrapes along your lower back, heading lower, you’re both startled by the loud beep! that sounds in the kitchen. At the same time you peer around him, Steve turns and gives a sheepish chuckle, seeing the fridge door still ajar from when he’d been fishing around inside.
He steps away from you, pushing the doors closed gently. Turning back, your chest swells with pride seeing the effect you’re already having on him; red lips, shiny with spit and a faint ruby colour in the apples of his cheeks. Steve smiles, boyish and charming.
“Do you wanna keep—“
“—yes.”
You’re not going to squander this chance, not going to waste the days' chemistry when there’s still that tiny worry niggling in the back of your brain that today is all a fluke. That Steve’s words might just be an offer, something else that wouldn’t be a first for you.
Steve grins. He holds out his hand and you intertwine yours with him, letting him lead you. Your stomach swoops as he takes you out the kitchen and heads for the stairs, checking back on you with a quick glimpse. You do your best to show him your excitement instead of your nerves. You’re not sure you succeed.
Squeezing his hand does the trick for a final reassurance. Steve resumes leading you up the stairs, taking a familiar turn towards his bedroom, beginning to talk softly as he does.
“Remember, anytime, anything you don’t like, just say the word.”
You both pause, standing in his room and you swallow the doubts that try to claw back up your throat. Giving a sly glance at him, you smile coyly and wiggle your hand out from his. Trailing backwards to his bed, you pretend to think about it, til your thighs hit the edge of the bed.
“Hmm… well,” You begin, a touch of sultriness dipping into your voice. “I don’t like… that you’re still wearing your shirt.”
Before you, Steve huffs a silent laugh, that handsome smile gracing his lips as he ducks his head. He doesn’t disappoint though, his arms reaching up behind his head to shuck his shirt off in one fluid motion.
He chucks it aside thoughtlessly and where it lands doesn’t even matter — your eyes are fixed on his chest. His bare chest that you’ve been given permission to properly ogle at. You swear you feel your mouth salivate a bit.
“Should've known this would go first, considering the way you were drooling outside,” Steve remarks cockily, folding his arms loosely. It makes his biceps bulge and you swallow again, this time nothing to do with nerves.
“I wasn’t drooling,” You defend weakly, beginning to fidget with the hem of your own shirt. “I was admiring, okay? There’s a difference.”
Steve saunters over slowly as you talk, steps slow and measured. He’s smirking by the time he’s before you, so close you can feel the heat of him. “Uh huh. Totally, sweetheart, I believe you. Need help with this?”
His hand has reached out, fingers pinching the same hem you’re fiddling with. You nod slowly, “Yes, please.”
Steve’s smirk fades into something sweeter and he grabs the hem with two hands, beginning to ruck it up gently, his eyes locked on yours — you raise your arms when it starts to get caught, holding your gaze to his until the fabric intersects. Your arms drop and you push away the urge to wrap them around your middle.
Steve drops your shirt much more gently than his own but his eyes are still entirely on you. There’s a shine of awe in them now, flicking up at down the newly exposed skin.
The intensity of his gaze makes you want to shy away but you chose bravery instead, reaching out to grab his side. Steve jumps, barely an inch, and before you even get a chance to question, he’s smiling. “Y’got cold hands, honey.”
He draws them up to his mouth, laying soft kisses across your knuckles. Heat flushes through you and you melt beneath it, lowering yourself back on the bed. Steve follows eagerly, still kissing at your hands. He kneels between your legs and when he finally drops your hands from his, it’s to reach out and cup your jaw.
“Keep breathing,” He murmurs quietly, eyes dancing in amusement. You hadn’t even realise you had been holding your breath. You realise it in one big exhale and this time, when you reach for him, you actually succeed in tugging him closer. You tumble backward into his sheets and Steve comes with you, his forearms planted on either side of you and his body pressed up against yours.
“I don’t like…” You say, continuing the bit from earlier, your voice quiet and still tinged with a poorly hidden nervousness. “That you keep waiting to kiss me.”
Steve’s brows hike up an inch but his smile hides his surprise easily, his entire face glowing a bit brighter. He looks fucking gorgeous bathed in the buttery sunlight, even though it’s just beginning to fade towards darkness behind the curtains.
You stare unabashedly up at him, marvelling at his features that are etched in with adoration for you. You follow down the strong line of his nose, along the soft arches in his eyebrows, the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that he has from smiling.
You study the swell of his cupids bow perched above his pink lips and each of the moles dotted all over your favourite face— and think to yourself it’s not fucking fair that he looks like this. Like he’s been carved from marble and cast in gold.
Thank God he’s yours.
He doesn’t disappoint you — his lips finding yours and kissing you deeply, his chest brushing your own. Your entire body seems to sigh at the touch, tingling with anticipation — you’ve been overdue for all these kisses for far too long and it seems once you’ve gotten started, it feels impossible to stop.
You kiss needily, your hands moving off his midriff to drift up to his jawline. You cradle it gently, your lips a little less gentle- you try to remember how to do this, how to nip at his lips teasingly, how to soothe them with your tongue.
Slowly, Steve’s body weight lowers onto you as he focuses more and more on figuring out what you seem to like. Time melts like candle wax and you feel as goopy as it too, all warm and pliable, softened by his kisses. Heat begins to simmer in your gut. You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing when Steve pulls away, his mouth cherry red and his face flushed.
His fingers slip beneath the strap of your bra, toying with it but nothing more. He checks over your face as he asks, “Wanna take this off?”
You nod, breathlessly. Up til now, it’s been easy to turn off your brain and let all your thoughts revolve around getting kissed absolutely stupid by Steve.
But as his hands work deftly beneath you, unclipping the strap of your bra and beginning to tug it down, you feel the first worry creep in — this is usually when your panties follow, then his boxers, and then the expectations. Even with all your enjoyment, you know that if he tries now, you won’t be ready.
Frustration bubbles up in your chest, mingling with your insecurity and you squirm a bit, trying to think of how to tell Steve without disappointing him.
You’re so sick of disappointing people for something you can’t seem to help.
Steve notices your squirming. His head shoots up to meet your gaze, a furrow back in his brow. “Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on?”
“I…” Words die on your tongue easily, a war happening inside your throat as you debate what to say. You like him— you really like him and don’t want this to end and… he told you he wants you to tell the truth.
“I don’t… I’m not—“ Your whisper climbs in volume alongside your frustration. “Steve, this isn’t working.”
The wrinkle between his brow deepens and it’s not a comforting sight. Steve shifts a bit, his hand moving from the straps of your bra up to your face. He pushes back a few stray locks of hair, eyes sincere.
“Not working?” He murmurs, “Baby, we’ve only just started.”
You blink up at him once, twice. Your mouth opens and then closes again.
You know that but you also know how this goes. Well, you think you know— so why do you suddenly feel so foolish?
“Oh.” You say shyly. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and try to ignore feeling like you’ve just ruined the mood.
Steve takes it all in his stride, nothing but a twitch in his furrows brows as he takes in your embarrassed expression. He leans down, and kisses your neck, then your collarbone. His lips trail down, down, slow and sensual. Your bra scraps down your arms, tossed aside absentmindedly.
“Sweet girl,” he whispers into your skin. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” You echo, a bit breathier as Steve's kisses scrape down your breast. Your nipples peak to attention.
“Mhm,” he hums, his lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking— his hands paw greedily at your back which arches eagerly into his kisses. Steve drags his mouth off, beginning to mouth softly down your breast til his plush lips kiss at your sternum.
“M’sorry that nobody has ever taken care of you before.”
You squirm beneath him at his words, a warm flush washing through your body as desire spins up inside you. Steve continues as if he hasn’t turned your whole view inside-out— his hand shifting up to thumb at your nipple as he takes your nipple back between his lips.
“Steve…” you sigh out.
He’s kneading your body in just the right way, the sensitivity of your chest fuelling the pool of heat growing deep in your stomach. You feel your thighs clench together, hips shifting up instinctively. You haven’t been touched like this before and fuck, it’s a lot.
“I know, honey.” He says lowly, voice muffled against your skin. He suckles at your nipple and just nips at it, a flash of teeth, enough to make you arch further. Your eyes slip shut and you push your chest further out.
To your disappointment, Steve pulls back instead. Your eyes open, neck craning to look at him, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths.
“Y’tell me if there’s anything you don’t like, alright?”
Somehow, the heat in your gut flares that much hotter — knowing that there’s love behind every motion. You scramble for threads of courage and hold them tightly. Then you bend your legs until you can slide them around his waist, ankles crossing and tugging him closer. His cock, straining in his pants, presses flush against your core, and at the same time you inhale, Steve stutters out a groan.
“I’ll tell you.” You say, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to hold back your grin. It melts away as Steve shifts against you purposefully, one of his hands dropping to hold your hip. The hard length of him grinds against your cunt, catching the angle of your clit in a way that makes you mewl beneath him.
Steve kisses your breast again but your hands are already reaching for him— fingers cupping his jaw to tug him up. Your lips capture his and this time, when he rolls his hips into yours, the soft noise you make is swallowed in his kiss. It’s fervent, your kisses gaining speed and mess. You tighten your ankles and experiment with your grind and are rewarded with a jagged moan from Steve.
Faintly, you consider how it makes a little more sense now. That all those desperate motions of making out, rutting against each other, hot open-mouth kisses— fuck, if it was always like this, you get it. You feel like you’re on fire.
A breeze flutters the curtains across the room, the only indication of time outside your little bubble. It’s far too easy to get lost in the motions— building up your lust until you’re sure the cotton between your legs is soaked through. It feels silly but god, even though you knew this was one of the things making all those past times so terrible, you had just assumed that’s how it would always be.
The stickiness feels vulgar, your cunt pulsating with heat like you’ve never felt before. It just makes it all feel better though— the warm, hard heat of Steve’s cock, fitting snug between your folds.
A pause in the makeout to catch your breath. You’re huffing wildly and Steve takes the moment of his undistracted attention to focus on the shorts you’re wearing. He doesn’t ask verbally this time but as he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband, his eyes flash up to yours in question.
You wiggle your hips and Steve takes his cue, the fabric scraping against your skin as it slides down, down, down. To your surprise, Steve goes with them. He gets halfway down the bed, his head aligned with your belly, hands kneading at the flesh of your boobs before he halts.
“I wanna try something,” He says, looking up at you. He dots a quick kiss onto your skin as he does, not breaking eye contact. “And I think you’re gonna really love it.”
He drags out the word really, his voice low enough that it rumbles, nearly a purr.
“It involves a little bit of this.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your navel. He kisses nice and slow, the plushness of his lips scraping across the stretch of skin.
You shiver a little, feeling how your thighs part instinctively and Steve smiles wickedly, seeing the motion.
“A little—“ He travels further down, his hands sliding to hold the outside of your thighs. He grips the skin and urges it to spread wider— then takes a greedy fat lick along your inner thigh. “—of this.”
You squirm. It’s unnerving in the best way, having someone so dedicated to making you feel good— but Steve’s face betrays no hint of insincerity. In fact, if you had to guess, you’d say he even looks excited.
His large tan hands cover your hips, slender fingers curved atop your thighs to keep them pried open. You’re expecting the next question to be getting the final scrap of clothing off you— a mixture of nerves and excitement at the vulnerability that comes with taking them off.
He doesn’t though. Drawing a line with the tip of his nose, he nuzzles down from the inside of your knee to your thigh, the warmth of his breath fanning across sensitive skin. He kisses your cunt, once, soft. You twitch, a sweet noise pushing past your lips.
Steve does it again. This time, his lips part and you feel his tongue press through the soaked cotton of your panties — he kisses again, harder, moving over your clit with his tongue. This time you moan and feel your hips tip up to chase his mouth, surprising yourself.
Fuck, when have you ever been this wet before? The cotton between your legs is sticky and it only gets messier with Steve’s every lick. The duvet crinkles beneath you as you sigh and sink into it, the low throb of pleasure curling up in your gut.
“Steve,” you sigh his name like it’s a prayer.
He hums against your core, his fingers gliding beneath the elastic of your panties but not pulling them down just yet. His hot mouth drops lower, his nose pressing into you at the perfect angle. Your breathy exhale is lilted with moans.
“See?” He murmurs, so low you nearly don’t hear him.
“S’Nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Y’just needed…“ His fingers grip your panties and begin to pull and you aid him quickly with a lift of your hips. “…someone to take a little more care with you.”
Any fear of vulnerability is whirled far away; you need his mouth back on you, like, yesterday. Especially when Steve groans. Like the sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his cock ache. Your tummy heats further at the thought.
His hands re-situate, soothing up to your tummy before sliding back down to grasp the tops of your thighs again. He pulls them open wider.
Pure fire streaks through your nerves, a sweltering pleasurable burn twisting in your gut as Steve’s tongue licks through your folds in one bold stroke. Your hips try to twitch forward but his hands are already there, holding them down.
There’s one more pause, one soft curse of adoration, as his nose nuzzles along the soft skin of your inner thigh. You feel unbearably warm in his sheets, heat pulsating and dancing beneath your skin.
“Steve,” you whisper his name again, urging him gently. “Please.”
“I got you,” He murmurs in response. “You don’t gotta say please with me,” He hums lowly, then kisses right on your clit, languid and warm, his tongue swirling around it deftly. You cry out softly.
He drags his mouth off you and if you looked down, you’d see the soft sheen of your slick on his rosy lips. “I wanna give you everything you want.”
You gasp as he finally puts his mouth on you properly, pleasure dribbling through your core as he suckles on your clit. He’s killer with his tongue, twisting it and flattening it against your bud in a way that has you squirming. The sheets scrunch in your frenzied grip.
For the first time, you understand why pornos even sound like that— taking a moment to realise the whiney gaspy noise you’re hearing is coming from you.
“Oh god,” You whine prettily. “That’s— uh— fuck, that’s really good.”
Between your thighs, you hear and feel the moan Steve gives back. Your thighs are twitching, torn between trying to keep them apart or warm your boyfriend's ears. Your hips are moving, subtle grinds up into Steve’s face and he takes it all appreciatively. He sucks and slurps, tongue dragging down your folds to toy at your clenching hole— making you squeal.
“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back for a moment. His voice is doused in arousal. “You’re so wet.”
Heat plumes low in your tummy as he dives back in, a groan echoing from his throat. The coil in your gut tightens, winding tighter and tighter. Your chest heaves as your voice melts away until everything you say is a whimpery little “yes, yes, yes,” and Steve’s name.
His huge hands are still pressing your thighs apart but one shifts suddenly, barely noticeable in your mounting euphoria, until it’s tapping at your hand fisted in the sheets.
You lift your head, confused, and peer down at him.
It’s a mistake. His hand is resting on the bed in front of your own, propped up and fingers spread. It's clear he wants to hold your hand. Chest heaving and still lightly moaning, your eyes dart from his hand to his face — and that’s the mistake.
He’s fucking beautiful. Hair mussed, rosy-cheeked, and dark-eyed, Steve can only hold eye contact for a moment before his eyelids slip shut as he moans against your cunt. Fire blooms under your skin, coil turned tighter and together. He wants to hold your hand. Your fingers just manage to tangle with Steve’s, holding tight, as you tip over the edge with a cry.
It’s intense — jagged waves of pleasure that ride through every nerve in your body and have you nearly overwhelmed with how fucking good it feels. Incoherent babbling whines pour from your mouth. Your thighs lock up, beating Steve’s strong hold now that he’s down to just one hand, and close around his head. He moans in response, his tongue never letting up, licking and sucking at your cunt fervently.
And he holds your hand the whole way through.
You feel thoroughly flattened by the time your orgasm tapers off, your legs relaxing and flopping tiredly against the bed. Vaguely, you’re aware you should apologise for likely cutting off his oxygen flow for a good couple of seconds there but you’re too out of breath yourself to do so.
Your chest rises and falls and a sweet contentment settles into your skin. You feel happy, loved. Without meaning to, an awed laugh titters out of you.
Then another, and another. You can’t seem to stop laughing, a gleeful silly joy as you release his hand to bury your face in your own.
“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. Then, slightly louder. “Holy shit, Steve.”
You hear him laugh and the sheets crinkle — and then he’s in your field of vision, hovering over you with an adoring grin on his face. His lips are still so pink and there’s a shine on his chin. He wipes it away absentmindedly, focused on you.
“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He says, genuine and not at all cocky. He settles down, one arm on either side of your chest. One of his hands sweeps over your face sweetly.
You nod, tucking your bottom lip behind your teeth to constrain your grin.
“Uh huh,” you say, voice all gooey. “I didn’t—“
You pause. “I thought— and then you— and Oh my Goddd.” You cover your face with your hands again, groaning exaggeratedly as you try to roll over and melt away into his bed sheets.
“See? I told you it wasn’t you,” Steve says, peppering little kisses where he can reach. He kisses your shoulder, along the side of your face. He coaxes you out gently, pressing your shoulder to roll you onto your back. You face him properly.
“There is nothing wrong with you.” He reminds you. You’ve never been so happy to be wrong. You nod, hair scrunching against the pillow behind you.
“Okay,” You say, with a small smile, finally believing it. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
Steve’s stare is glowing with fondness and the next moment, he’s lurching forward to press his mouth to yours. You kiss back greedily and lazily all at once.
He pulls back and you hate how the thought comes to you, unbidden; the smallest wrinkle creasing between your brows.
“But,” You begin, voice small. “That wasn’t sex though.”
Steve’s head tilts an inch, like an adorably confused puppy. “What do you mean? That was sex.”
“What? That was— that was like second base.”
Steve huffs a laugh, though not directed at you. His gaze shifts above your head as he chooses his words. “Uhh, sure, if we were still in high school. But even then, that’s still sex. We just had some sex.”
Stating it so plainly, you can’t help how it makes you giggle a bit. Steve rolls his eyes, even though you can tell he’s entirely endeared.
“We just had sex,” You repeat his words, eyes bright and grin growing. “And I really enjoyed it.”
Steve laughs loudly and steals a quick kiss from you. Holding up his hand, he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just had sex high-five?” He jokes.
You slap your hand against his anyways, twisting your fingers to hold onto his hand as you let them fall to the bed. Steve beams, cuddling in closer, the tip of his nose nuzzling against your own.
Turns out, you might be starting to get the whole big deal around sex after all.
#uhm. basically don’t read into this#who minds a little (or a whooooole lot) of projection!#not me! :D#🧌…. part two?#steve harrington smut#steve x reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x you#steve x you#steve x reader smut#steve harrington#jay writes
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forever?
pairing: mob!bucky x reader
summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.
warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!
a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling
two months out of forever.
two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.
in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents.
the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place.
you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely.
on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be.
they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.
so far, he’s been the opposite.
for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady.
because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light.
but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much.
the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.
the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.
you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.
those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…
you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life.
peace.
a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together.
but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door.
“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe.
“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”
you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”
“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight.
-
the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting.
you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls.
you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.
“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile.
“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”
“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”
you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline.
you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun.
luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting.
t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you.
the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway.
“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men.
“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”
as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips.
“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates.
in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned.
you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes.
you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with.
you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often.
you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip.
“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be.
“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.
“i don’t-i’ve got it…”
“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.
“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband.
“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”
then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins.
“i think he might mind.”
you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away.
his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.
“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.
your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you?
you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this.
your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.
and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think.
you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted.
“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly.
“but the dish-”
“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.”
“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.
he won’t hurt you.
he has to protect his image.
you’ve embarrassed him.
you’re his wife.
you’re his business deal.
you’ve humiliated him.
he’ll hurt you.
you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident.
your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth.
and then there was a knock at the door.
your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting.
he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements.
“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.
automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.
“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft.
you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was.
“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”
“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again.
“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.”
“you don’t have to-”
“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.
you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you.
how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing…
“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.
“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.
“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed.
sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point.
but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#marvel#sargeant barnes#sargeant bucky barnes#bucky#bucky barnes hurt/comfort#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes whump#bucky x fem!reader#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#bucky x y/n#winter soldier#marvel au#bucky barnes au#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky x reader#mob!bucky fanfic
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Now that I’m back working retail, I can’t get the image of Corroded Coffin becoming one of the vintage band tees you see on graphic tee walls. They’d be up there with Metallica and Black Sabbath, made for everyone to wear for the fashion of it rather than their love of the band.
Everyone would expect Eddie to be outraged when it first starts to happen — all these fake fans and posers wearing his merch without knowing who he is at all. And at first, sure he didn’t love it but at the same time… money is money and he’s got kids to put through school. His own are already out of college, with their fancy degrees and stable jobs, but a slew of nieces and nephews, and a few great ones now (Jesus Christ he’s old) from the Party that are even smarter than their genius parents and those tuitions aren’t cheap. Famous Uncle Eddie feels like it’s his duty to help with their tuitions to the ivys or whatever, so if Jenny, the wine mom from down the street, wants to wear a brand new, yet distressed tee with the logo he designed across the chest? Let her!
That being said, he doesn’t start loving it until they eventually reach the toddler section. Suddenly, Eddie — who previously had no opinion on whether or not his kids had kids — is begging all three of their kids for grand babies. And he’s not being subtle about it either. He buys the onesies and toddler tees, leaving them where Steve and the kids can see, shipping new designs to his kids “just in case.” All he wants is to see a baby, preferably one he knows, all done up in his merch, repping the band in a matching metal outfit. It’s not his fault all his own babies are two decades past the baby phase!
Steve doesn’t intervene, no matter how much their kids beg and plead. If anything, he thinks it’s hilarious that suddenly Eddie’s the one all baby crazy after the years of him laughing at Steve’s baby fever. Sue him.
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RODEO STATION, 2 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
A collection of you and Megumi through the years, through Gojo’s eyes.
content, warnings: childhood friends to lovers, canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique sort of delved into here
word count: 2.2k
part ii: you and megumi are ten, tsumiki is eleven, gojo is twenty-ish?, about six or seven months after gojo meets all of you, and adopts megumi and tsumiki. you can read part one here
The moment that Satoru met him, he knew that Megumi was a little troublemaker and there was little he could do to stop that. Satoru didn’t mind for the most part, and he couldn’t blame the kid either—honestly, he was more surprised that Megumi didn’t routinely get himself into more trouble, but he supposes he has you and Tsumiki to thank for that.
He’d naively believed that you and Tsumiki both played the role of anchoring maternal figure for Megumi, but it only takes a few weeks for Satoru to learn that it’s Tsumiki that serves as the anchor for you two. Satoru then earnestly wonders if you were bullying Megumi with the way you’re able to keep him under your thumb, but when Megumi adamantly refutes this with the nastiest, most offended scowl Satoru’s ever seen on a kid before, he backs off and reasons that this is just how your relationship with Megumi works.
And, as it turns out, Megumi is the only one doing any sort of bullying. He’s ten and Satoru has been to more parent-teacher conferences than any other parent has ever possibly attended in their lifetime. He didn’t even know that it was possible for kid his age to get kicked out of school, especially at this point in the year. There’s only three months left until summer vacation, so Satoru enlists Ieiri’s help in enrolling Megumi into public school to finish out fifth grade. She also reassures him that this separation from you and Tsumiki is temporary, and that you would all be able to attend middle school together again in the fall.
The major problem then becomes that you all get dismissed at different times. You and Tsumiki used to end your days at the same time, but Tsumiki starts staying late to take piano lessons. However, this is remedied by the mother of a friend of Tsumiki’s, who drives her home afterwards; an older woman that Satoru becomes eternally grateful for. Even so, you’re dismissed thirty minutes before Megumi, and some shuffling has to be done to align your commutes. Satoru knows that the three of you took yourselves to and from school before he came into the picture, and that most kids your age are more than capable getting home on their own, but after you told him that some old man from the Kamo clan came to talk to you after school one day, he can’t help but to worry.
Satoru isn’t your guardian, not in the way that he is for Megumi and Tsumiki, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel responsible for you—morally, financially, emotionally, and more importantly, for his own safety because he knows he’d have both Divine Dogs biting at his ankles if something curse-related happened to you and he didn’t do anything to stop it.
You were currently under the care of your elderly great aunt who hadn’t a shred of cursed energy from what Satoru could tell. He had Principal Yaga do a background check, and found no other sorcerers in your immediate family, nor any traceable Kamo relatives, and more importantly, you didn’t possess any sort of Blood Manipulation technique. Satoru’s seen what you can do so far to control water, has even seen you give the Divine Dogs trouble in a gentle sparring match—you’re impressive, even at your young age, so he can understand why a powerful clan might see the potential in you, but the Kamo clan isn’t historically welcoming of outsiders. If you’re not related to them, he can’t fathom why any member would physically approach you.
The old man never revealed his name to you, but Satoru’s certain it’s either a clan elder, or the current head himself; neither of which bring him any comfort. In the spirit of their traditional ways, he doubts anyone would actually try to harm you out in the open, but Satoru still wants to keep you on close watch for a little while. He thinks he’s the best man for the job. He’s quickly proven otherwise.
He exorcises curses with a bit of hastiness and little tact in order to be there when you get dismissed from school. Ieiri says it’s creepy to follow you from a distance, but Satoru is just doing what he can to protect you. If somebody else is following you, he wants to see who they are. They’ll never approach or reveal themselves if he hovers next to you, and if you half the pride that Megumi has, you’d run him out of town if he ticked you off by playing overprotective big brother—so, instead, he positions himself far enough away to observe you, and close enough to defend if need be.
He never needs to.
For as wild and boisterous as you are with Megumi and Tsumiki, you follow a simple, quiet after school routine. You walk with Tsumiki and her friends to the west gate to drop them off at piano practice, then cross the street to buy a snack—this differs, but you always get a carton of strawberry milk—and then walk to the train station. It’s a ten minute walk from your school to the station, and a fifteen minute walk from Megumi’s school to the station, which is why Satoru doesn’t quite know how the kid manages to keep you waiting for only seven minutes on average when he already gets out of school thirty minutes after you.
Once he gets over the initial shock, he can’t help but to be amused. He knows that when Megumi first changed schools, he started meeting you on the train, two stops later—at the one closer to his new school. But in the last week, Megumi has walked himself seventeen blocks east, at what Satoru guesses must be an inhuman pace, just to meet you at the station closest to you.
When two weeks have passed since the unknown Kamo elder has contacted you, and no other incidents have occurred, Satoru resigns his position as perimeter watchdog. He has a bunch of missions to catch up on anyway, and he figures that you and Megumi are safe in each other’s care for now.
A few weeks later, after catching up on his assignments, Satoru decides to check back in. He knows he doesn’t have to, but something in his stomach is telling him to. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the curse he fought earlier today had some kind of toxic blood that has him thinking the worst could happen to you, or getting a call that Megumi had been cutting some of his classes, or that he’s tired and delusional and worried and scared, or maybe it’s just his blooming maternal instincts telling him something is wrong, but he rushes to spy on your commute home.
He’s late. Megumi isn’t with you, and you’re already on the train when he makes it to the station and he can sense two sources of cursed energy trailing way too close behind you just as the train doors shut. His mind is racing irrationally—is this an unusual move by the Kamo clan, or perhaps someone else? Word had certainly gotten around that he’d picked up Toji Fushiguro’s kid, plus another kid with immense cursed potential, and Satoru himself and the Gojo clan have more than enough enemies. Whatever it may be, he doesn’t take his chances, using his newly honed short-range teleportation skills to make it to the next station before the train can.
He’s panting, thinking about every worst possible scenario at once, wondering how to best deal with whoever or whatever was targeting you, especially in such a crowded place, wondering if you’re safe, if Megumi was safe—why wasn’t he with you? Has someone already gotten to him, too? Was Tsumiki even at piano practice? Oh god, if he hasn’t already been kidnapped, Megumi is totally going to kill him if something happens to you.
Satoru rushes onto the train as soon as the door opens, eyes wildly scanning for you through the crowd, ready to strike when he finally finds you—seated towards the back of the car, reading the book that Tsumiki had loaned to you, quietly, and both the black and white Divine Dogs sitting on either side of you.
And Satoru has to laugh at himself. If he’d stopped for even a moment (or if he’d gotten more than two hours worth of sleep in the past three weeks trying to make up all his assignments), he’d have recognized Megumi’s residuals, would have recognized the energy of the dogs, and would have pieced together that there wasn’t a single threatening aura in the vicinity.
Oopsies.
“Gojo?” you call to him, not too loud as to not to disturb everyone else’s commute. “How come you’re here?”
Satoru shuffles through the crowd and holds onto the overhead rail once he’s next to you. The white dog moves to settle underneath your short legs, blinking at him with disinterest. “Got off a little early today, thought I’d surprise you brats, that’s all,” he says, then motions to the dogs next to you, “Where’s Megumi?”
You blink at him. Satoru knows you probably don’t believe him, but you spare him the embarrassment when you don’t push it further. “He had to make up a credit today, so he’s getting on at the next stop. Do you want a sandwich? They only had ones with peppers today, so Megumi won’t eat it, but Mr. Teuchi gave me two, anyway.”
“What, is he allergic or something?” Satoru questions, accepting your offer, and the seat next to you when he starts to unwrap the sandwich.
“No, he’s just picky,” you tell him, closing your book to unwrap yours, too. You’re quiet, taking your first two bites, before you turn to him again, “How did you know Megumi was missing?”
Satoru chokes. It gains him a few concerned stares, and even a pointed ear from the black dog, before he regains his composure. “Um... he tells me usually he follows you home from the other stop, that’s why.”
“Then why didn’t you try to surprise us at the other stop?”
Satoru pauses again. Since when did ten year olds get so lippy and observant? “I did, but I was late. So I sort of,” Satoru leans down, crinkling the empty sandwich wrapper in his right hand and uses his left to beckon you towards him to whisper, “Teleported here.” He pulls back, prideful, and crosses his legs, “Pretty cool, right?”
“So, why didn’t you just teleport to the first station when you realized you were going to be late?” You question, mocking his whispering tone when you repeat the word.
“Hey, you think doing that kind of stuff comes automatically? I can’t just pop up anyplace at any time,” Satoru groans, a bit overdramatically, “Not yet, anyway. I’ll be able to do that soon.”
You hum, kicking your legs happily as you take another bite out of your snack. “I think I get it. Megumi says it’s hard spreading out and controlling your cursed energy over long distances, but he’s been practicing hard. He can send the dogs way far away from him now.”
“I see,” Satoru turns his chin down, eyeing the Divine Dogs with a gentle smile. He almost says that it’s easier to send shikigami on their own, especially those like Megumi’s, and particularly when you anchor them to another source of cursed energy such as yourself, but you look way too proud of Megumi for him to burst your bubble. He also declines to say that Megumi probably doesn’t send the dogs to you on days like this just for the sake of practicing.
A crush isn’t quite exactly the motivation Satoru pictured when he told Megumi he’d have to work hard and get strong, but whatever works, works.
Ten minutes later, the train comes to a steady halt. Megumi is the first new passenger on board, and unlike Satoru, he doesn’t need to turn his head wildly, every which way to find you. You’re like a beacon to Megumi, he easily finds the both of you in the last seats in the car, and steadily makes his way to you.
Megumi greets you before he greets Satoru, taking the seat across and facing you before he turns to the taller man with a much less receptive frown, “What are you doing here?”
“I believe the word you’re looking for is hello, Megumi,” Satoru teases, reaching across to ruffle his already unruly hair. Megumi grumbles, batting his offending hand away.
“Gojo ate your sandwich,” you chirp.
“What?” Satoru yells, incredulous, “I did not. You gave it to me—tell him!”
You have much more fun watching Satoru scramble than defending his honor. It’s only when Satoru gives his best pout that you admit to Megumi that you offered up his sandwich, consoling him with the fact that it included his least favorite ingredient and making it up by pulling out two cartons of strawberry milk for him. Megumi accepts them both with quiet thanks, cheeks growing pink to match the cartons, and you smiling widely when he takes his first sip.
Satoru had a hunch those were for Megumi. So, this isn’t one-sided. Good for you kids.
It’s another twenty-six minutes before it’s time for you all to get off the train. The Gojo-Fushiguro residence and your great aunt’s house are in opposite directions, but are both just a short five minute journey from the station exit. One you can certainly make on your own, and still, Megumi insists that you let the dogs walk with you and that he’ll release them once you’re home.
“It’s good practice,” Megumi mumbles, shooing you on your way uphill, “I want to know how long I can keep them out, too.”
You have that same look on your face that you had earlier, like you don’t quite believe Megumi, but just as with earlier, you don’t say anything, sparing Megumi and Satoru a formal goodbye and a wave before heading home. Satoru and Megumi turn to walk back to their own house, he can’t help but to smile every time Megumi turns his head to look back at your silhouette.
Satoru decides that you’re not Megumi’s anchor, you’re the lighthouse that guides him to shore, a light that he follows with faith and reason; a safe haven that Megumi seeks to protect. Satoru can admire that, but he wonders what happened that could make the most unruly kid he knows pledge his allegiance like that. Megumi would have refused Satoru’s aid if he hadn’t agreed to let you stay in his life, and although he’d chalked it up to puppy love before, Satoru’s beginning to wonder if there’s anything he, or anyone, even could do to separate the two of you.
Likely not, he concludes, when two weeks later, your class goes on a field trip and Megumi is the one who comes home exhausted and crashes onto the couch immediately. When Satoru asks, all he gets is a tired grunt; but shortly after Megumi falls asleep, he can feel a few extra shadows at his feet, and a glimpse of the white dog before she completely vanishes into the darkness.
Satoru chuckles, leaning down to ruffle Megumi’s hair before heading to the kitchen to make a snack for Tsumiki. If this is the rate that Megumi trains to keep his loved ones protected, then Satoru has no worries about him getting strong enough to keep up with him.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#megumi smut#megumi fluff#jjk scenarios#jjk smau#jjk fake texts#gojo x reader#jjk imagines#jjk fanfic
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Our comfort
Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)
—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.
—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.
You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.
But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.
The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.
You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.
Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.
Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.
So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.
The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.
Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.
Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.
Many games of all houses take place just for you.
AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.
Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.
When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.
So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.
Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.
He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.
“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special. 
Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.
When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.
So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?
He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.
You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.
#disney plus percy jackson#plantonic percy jackson x reader#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#yandere percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#platonic#yandere#grover underwood x reader#yandere annabeth chase#annabeth chase x reader#annabeth chase#grover underwood#yandere Grover underwood#yandere greek gods#yandere annabeth chase x reader#I stand peter Johnson
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