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spaghettiposts · 5 months

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An Outlaws Christmas

Cowboy!reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summery: Wanda’s father has never liked you, but that won’t stop you from delivering a special gift this season.

Warnings: Mentions of firearms, fluff, Bucky being dramatic.

Words Count: 3.5k

“Bucky I swear to God, you better keep this thing steady.” You muttered between cold breaths, raising your foot to the next step, sensing the ladder tremble beneath you. Your eyes whipped downward, glaring at the cowboy.

He huffed, gripping the ladder tighter. “You just- had to date the rich girl with a four-story mansion didntcha?” He seethed, shifting his weight to support the item. “It’s fucking freezing man.”

Indeed, it was freezing. The middle of December in Fort Worth brought snow gleaming in the streets, covering trails and displeasing the horses. Which you had to use to get here in the first place, Wanda’s house that is. More precisely her fathers house, who wasn’t so keen about you. Why were you here? Simple.

Christmas, the season of giving, in any weather condition. And in any condition you always wanted to visit Wanda, even if Bucky complained about it. Especially tonight, when it was Christmas night. Where family’s would spend their nights together, huddled by the fireplace. Something you wanted to share with Wanda someday.

Something an outlaw like you couldn’t have, but you tried anyway. You tried for her, tried to change your rugged ways. Formerly around this time of year you never would’ve imagined a reason to celebrate this holiday. There was nobody special in your life, no family, and Bucky never liked Christmas ideals.

Now there was Wanda to be that someone. Beautiful, intelligent, amazingly talented Wanda. The girl who went for someone like yourself, a lowlife criminal trying to mend their ways. She saw the good in you, that you failed to see in yourself. And bit by bit she brought it out of you. Blackmail Barnes would constantly use on you, mocking you as the ‘cowboy who got whipped’ or ‘cowboy gone soft’ and his personal favorite ‘Casanova’. Despite the smacks you gave him each time he dared to use those terms, secretly you didn’t mind, it just meant you were closer to change than before. With that in mind, you didn’t let the opportunity to make Wanda your girlfriend pass by you, despite her parents disapproval.

Maybe if you got a better job, in time that would change too.

“Just keep the ladder steady Barnes, I’ll be finished quick.” You hollered over the wind, climbing up with haste. Looking through the windows you recognized them as the third floor, for the servants Wanda had told you. Rich people had rooms for everything nowadays.

“Quick my ass..” He scoffed.

“Was that sarcasm James?”

He let out a groan, pounding his fist on the ladder. “Just get your girl already”

“Alright alright…” You chuckled under your breath, hurrying up the ladder. You didn’t want to risk his impatience, the last thing you wanted was for him to throw you off. Fortunately, with the heavy snowfall, you’d probably only break one rib.

Although Wanda wouldn’t be happy, so you wouldn’t risk it.

Finally, the ladder came to an end, perfectly syncing with Wanda’s bedroom window. You were grateful to Mr. Williamson, your local carpenter, took your request for a 40 foot ladder seriously. Raising up your fist to knock–as you had done so many times before–you found yourself plagued with…hesitancy.

Pulling the poorly wrapped package out of your interior coat pockets, you examined the item. Its contaminants inside were beautiful, even you could admit, but the outside? Poorly wrapped crumbles of brown lunch bag paper with white string holding all the mess together? Was what was on the inside enough for Wanda?

Feeling another shake on the ladder you turned your head down, meeting the eyes of Bucky. He motioned to the window with his head, shooting you a thumbs up. You mouthed a small ‘thanks’ to him, right now wasn’t the time for insecurities. You’re sure Wanda would love the gift, or at least appreciate the gesture.

Clearing your throat, you tapped on the window, announcing yourself, “Wanda! It’s me! Do you mind opening the window?” You asked, waiting for the velvet curtains to part. In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure she was there at the moment. You knew the tendency her parents had of venturing off into parties, dragging her along into them and you assumed Christmas parties were a thing.

A couple of seconds later, you heard shuffling from inside, the curtains opening and your smile widening. Wanda looked through the window, searching for you till her eyes landed on your figure covered in snow. Her eyes widened, her hand lifting up to her chin in shock, “Y/n?”

“Hi Darlin’.” You shot the bewildered woman a toothy grin, lifting your hand to wave at her. Carefully she opened the window slowly, making sure not to knock you over in the process. Her shock eventually subsided into worry, grabbing you by the wrist to pull you inside.

“What are you doing here? It’s cold out, you’ll get sick.” She fretted, patting your forearms to shake off the snow.

“I’ve got my jacket,” You shrugged, her hands staying on your chest. “and I’m here for you. I brought you something for Christmas.” You smiled, digging through your pockets, Wanda tilted her head curiously. Pulling out the paper present you presented it to her.

Her eyes looked down at the gift fondly, she could tell you had wrapped it but thankfully found it endearing. Her fingers ran delicately through the string tying it together, as she turned to look at you with soft eyes and a tender smile tugging at her lips.

“Really?” She whispered, rubbing her hands on your chest before letting them hang on your shoulders. Her smile turned into a small smirk at the way you clearly leaned into her touch. “You didn’t have to Y/n…”

Truthfully you didn’t have to, Wanda had expressed how she was fine with you not celebrating the holiday, knowing how different your childhoods had been. She didn’t expect anything from you, a problem you wanted to change. You were capable enough for her to depend on you.

You blushed, enjoying the feel of Wanda’s fingers caressing the back of your neck. “But I want to, it’s custom to give your loved ones gifts and you’re mine.” You said sheepishly.

Wanda’s face softens at your words, keeping her gaze on you, searching for something more. And you think she’s going to close the distance but instead she moves her gaze to the door, squeezing your shoulders.

“Okay, but I’m afraid this’ll have to be quick.” She sighs “My Fathers due to be back soon, and you know how he feels about our relationship.”

At the mention of her father your expression turns into a slight grimace, the man was a governor, rich beyond belief and trying to get rid of old fashion ways. Including individuals such as yourself, outlaws. He had reason to, but still the thought of him left a bitter distaste in your mouth.

“He’ll learn to love me eventually.”

Wanda lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking her head in denial. “I highly doubt it, he’s very…traditional.”

Traditional. You hated that word.

“I could be traditional.” You tried to reason, even though you were the least bit traditional. It was worth a shot.

“With that rustic drawl of yours I’m not too sure Detka.” Wanda teased, leaning up to place a kiss on the corner of your lips. You wanted to correct her but she continued, “But that’s okay, personally I find it very charming.”

And then she closed the distance between you, savoring the way you let out a small sigh. You missed this, you missed her, you especially missed her touch. The way her hands guided yours down to her waist, encouraging you.

Wanda appreciated your kindness and respect towards boundaries. Making you all the more attractive in her eyes, the way you’d ask before anything, even hand holding, your charming gentleman like behavior. God, she wanted to rip those jeans off you.

You felt Wanda try to deepen the kiss which you eagerly gave into, granting her tongue permission. Her hands slipped inside your shirt, scratching the skin softly, causing your breath to hitch. Pulling away from the kiss with a gasp, resting your forehead against yours, catching your breath.

Wanda snickers between stolen kisses. “Damn it Wands…” You mumble affectedly, “This was ‘post to be about you.”

Pulling her head slightly away she stares up at you, a mischievous grin playing at her lips. “We have a couple minutes to spare, me and you.” Her hold tightened on your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. “I’ve missed you.”

Taking everything in you, you slow down the kiss much to Wanda’s disappointment. You chuckle shyly, remembering how she told you to be quick, ironic. “I’ve missed you too but not- today” You shudder with all seriousness, removing your hands from her hips.

“Mkay, I suppose we could wait for another moment.” She says, releasing her hold on you. “Besides you know I like taking my time with you.” She winks, laughing at your reaction.

“Quit teasin’ me…” You sigh, trying to shake off the blush dusting your cheeks, something that tended to happen with Wanda. The brunette only shrugged, feigning innocence. She took a hold of your wrist pulling you towards her bed, taking a seat and then patting the space beside her. Eagerly you settle in beside her, placing the gift on her lap.

“Open it.” You smile, anticipating the reaction.

Wanda fiddles with the present, tilting her head. “What is it?”

You snort “Well you won’t know until you open it Wands.”

Pursing her lips Wanda tugs on the strings, delicately unwrapping the gift which you didn’t really get, considering it wasn’t some high class material but kept quiet. Once the paper wrapping was off it revealed a rectangular shaped black leather box, it looked rather expensive. Feeling the leather Wanda confirmed her thoughts with widened eyes. Pure rich leather.

Her fingers traced the fabric, turning to stare at you. “Y/n what is this…” She whispered, you urged her to open the lid. And when she did the gasp that left her lips was almost comical. “Oh my gosh.”

“It’s a pendant.” You pointed out, feeling a little uncomfortable under her strong gaze. Did she like it? If only mind readers existed.

“Yes I know but, how?” She questioned, picking up the necklace before frowning. It was beautiful. “Detka…I don’t need you spending this much on me. This looks far too pricy.” Came her response, you sucked your teeth already expecting that answer from her. Wanda was never one to let you spoil her, knowing how much you made, odd considering you made a good amount…with a gun.

“Saving up money isn’t that hard, you’ve just gotta kill the right men to get it.” You smile sheepishly, a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

“Y/n.” Wanda glared, disliking your joke.

“I’m joking! Honest.” You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender. “Actually this jewel wasn’t so hard to find.”

“You found it?”

“Yup, mined it straight from that rock. Me and Barnes were chasing after a guy…” You hesitated, her raised eyebrow challenging you to finish that sentence. “To talk, down in the mines, when I found it. It reminded me of you, just like your eyes. So I plucked it open and took it to a jeweler. All's fair, no shooting involved.” You swore, crossing a finger across your heart.

Wanda just shook her head, rubbing her temple with her hand. You could tell she was upset at the revelation, she never appreciated hearing stories that could’ve killed you. Another thing you were trying to change, this one was more challenging as there were many people who wanted you dead, the difficult part was getting Wanda to understand that.

Both of you were stubborn that way.

“Does that…make it worse?” You asked carefully, debating whether to put a hand on her back, eventually deciding against and placing it back on your side. You didn’t want to overwhelm her. “I could get you one from the store if you’d like. I saw some real pretty ones there too.”

“That makes it all the more special to me, you mined it straight from the rock and fixed it up but you know how I feel about your ‘talks’.” She ended with a slightly twinge of annoyance. “I just worry about you and your job.”

You fiddled with the sheets underneath your fingertips, unsure what to say about that besides an apology. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you.”

Worrying was something no one had ever cared to do for you in your lifetime, not until Wanda. The feeling was strange…and something to get used to. You tried to be more understanding towards Wanda’s feelings, having picked up a book or two on how to maintain a healthy relationship, and Wanda was gladly by your side throughout the process.

“Its fine really, so long as you come back to me alive.” She empathized the last word, giving you a stern look. You nodded your head, agreeing with her. Lifting up her chin, carrying a satisfied look by your response, she trusted you. “If not I’ll come back and kill you myself.”

“Honey, me and you both know that you don’t know your way around a revolver.” You teased, leaning in forward to grasp her hand and place a small peck on the back of it.

“Just like you don’t know your way around the kitchen?” She retorted smugly, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

“I know my way…my meals are cooked with the intent of survival.”

“Clearly taste isn’t a part of your ideologies of ‘survival’.” She sneered, you tried to hide your smile but ultimately failed, laughing along with her.

The atmosphere had shifted, no longer holding that same tension as it did before. Worries and insecurities had left you, laughing along with the girl you had grown to love. You loved moments like these, carefree ones. Ones where you didn’t have to worry about wild snakes or bandits trying something. Ones where you could be happy with the person you loved most.

Admiring your girlfriend you couldn’t help yourself but to lean forward and cup her chin, connecting your lips together. It was a quick kiss, one you pulled away from as quick as it started, not permitting Wanda the chance to kiss back.

Instead she stared at you in shock, cheeks red. You had initiated something. Feeling flustered from the attention you looked down at your lap in embarrassment, which was quickly overtaken by Wanda who threw herself on you in glee, pampering kisses all over your face.

“I love you.” She whispered, kissing your cheeks. “Even if you’re a reckless idiot who climbs up four story mansions, and is a part time bounty hunter.” A kiss to your nose “But you’re my idiot.” A kiss to your forehead “Forever.” And finally your lips.

“Forever?”

“Mhm, mind putting this on me?” She requested, grabbing the necklace chain. You nodded happily, watching her shift in your lap to get a better view. Gently you pushed her hair aside, bringing the jewelry round her neck. It took a couple of frustrating attempts to get inside the clasp but eventually you managed, closing it.

Wanda thanked you with another kiss before moving herself off your lap and standing to get a view of the necklace in the mirror. Pushing yourself off the bed, you followed your girlfriend into her closet, admiring how divine the jewel looked on her.

“You look gorgeous.” You sighed, hearts racing at just the sight of her.

Wanda smiled, toying with the jewel. “It’s very pretty, I love it, thank you.” She reassured, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a loving kiss on the cheek. You smile back at her, taking the initiative to bring your lips together this time, sharing a loving kiss. That’s all it was, love.

Wanda smiled happily into the kiss, proud of you for taking initiative again, slotting her arms back on your neck. Tilting her head to deepen the kiss she pulled away, “But you know what would’ve been nicer?”

“What?”

“A ring.”

“A ring?”

“If this was your way of claiming your mark on me, it was a nice attempt but usually people settle for rings.” She replied, playing with the baby hairs on the back of your neck. “Which I’m still waiting for, maybe that way you’ll have a reason to put that gun down for once. A family to come back to.”

A family.

Oh gosh.

Hoping it wasn’t embarrassingly obvious how much you enjoyed that idea, you barely managed to squeak out a small, “But you like the necklace right…?”

“Of course, it’ll be hard to take it off of me now.” Wanda retorted playfully “Unless you’re willing to try?”

“I um.” You swallowed dryly, definitely now you knew your face was looking as ripe as a tomato.

At your expression Wanda let out a hearty laugh, furthering your embarrassment. She slapped an arm at your chest playfully, “I’m just teasing Detka, breathe. Although I’m serious about that, I’ll wear it forever.”

“I’m glad you like it. Like really glad, I wasn’t too sure and Bucky wasn’t much help.” You said, recalling the way Bucky had fallen asleep midway through your shopping session in search of something for the girl.

“I can see that he's never been the romantic type, unless you count that disastrous encounter with Natasha as romance then, maybe.” Both of you cringed at the memory.

Sputters of a car garnered your attention distracting you from the girl in your arms. The noise sounded suspiciously like her fathers new automobile, quickly you removed your hands from Wanda’s body. Wanda too, let you go at impressive speeds, rushing to take a look outside the window. Peering outside she was met with the sight of her father, who was kicking the tire of his car, muttering curses under his breath.

Oh shit her father.

Oh shit Bucky.

“Bucky.” You gasped, collecting your things. “Shit shit shit, Buckys still outside.”

“My fathers here.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, your eyes widened, rushing to get out of there. Before you could get too far Wanda stopped you with a tug at your forearm, smacking a box at your chest.

“What’s this?” You questioned, eyebrows furrowed, pushing the box back to get a better look at it. Quickly Wanda tugged your chin to meet her, placing one last peck on your lips before pulling the window open.

“Christmas gift.” She explained, “I don’t like what you do, and this isn’t me encouraging it, but you’re my girlfriend and I love you. So that’s that, now go before I change my mind.”

You nodded your head dumbly, unsure what she meant by all that, but climbed out anyway, waving her goodbye with the box secured in your hands.

Once you reached the bottom it was only then that you realized what she meant by those words, a new rifle stood in your hands. One of the best models out there. Grinning widely you took no time in ripping it out of the box, oh how you loved this girl.

—

“Fouty fucking minutes.” Bucky snarled, still shaking the snow off his body. There wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t white from head to toe. “Forty! You left me in the cold for Forty minutes!!” He shook his leather hat violently, slapping it around.

You sighed, taking the hat off your head and dusting yourself as well. In contrast you weren’t so full of snow, which just upset the man more. “I’m sorry Buck, I didn’t mean to take so long, but it was amazing.” The last part came out in awe.

Bucky placed his hat back on firmly, throwing a glare at you. He knew that voice, that puppy love coded tone of yours that only ever arose to haunt him when you were on the verge of an hour talk about Wanda. He debated shooting you right now before you started again.

“Forty minutes…I could’ve gotten frostbite you know, then who’s gonna cover you? Wanda? Like hell.” He muttered, narrowing his eyes at you when you pulled out your new rifle. One of the newest models too, he had to admit he was quite envious.

“She’s so amazing…”

“Are you even listening to me?!” He said exasperated, throwing his hands in the air.

“She gave me a gun…” You sighed dreamily, hugging the firearm to your chest. “Not just any gun Bucky, but a Winchester Model. The expensive good kind too.” You exclaimed, shaking him by the shoulders. His face scrunched up, smacking you away.

Bucky huffed from beside you, continuing to walk since you were too lovesick to lead. The building wasn’t too far from here. “She got me a good revolver too, you ain’t special.”

“Yeah but…mines better.”

“That doesn’t even- whatever you still took too damn long in there.”

“I haven’t seen her in weeks!” You whined, trying to defend yourself.

Bucky let out a grunt, rolling his eyes. “Yeah and you won’t see her in weeks, with all that back pain you’re gonna get.”

“What?”

“I call dibs on the good mattress, you fucked with me too much this time.” He shrugged, opening the door to your shared building.

“That’s not-”

“And by the way, I can still see her lipstick all over you.” He motioned to your face, before pointing down your neck. “You might wanna cover up those hickeys too, Bottom.”

“James!”

#wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda my beloved #wanda imagine #wlw post #cowboy au #cowboy #Wanda is rich rich #she’s sugar mommy material 🤞#but not in this story unfortunately 😔#Wanda’s worried girlfriend material here

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fandomnerd9602 · 6 months

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Sugar mommy Kate Bishop please

Kate: baby c'mere!

Y/N walks in to find Kate holding a set of car keys...

Kate: you know that Ford Mustang you had your eye on?

Y/N: you didn't

Kate: I did.

Y/N: baby my car runs fine

Kate: oh sweetie you need a car as fine as you

Kate kisses Y/N before handing them the new car keys...

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #kate bishop #hawkeye #hawkeye x reader #kate bishop x reader #hailee steinfeld #sugar mommy

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wasjustred · 1 year

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Winter Weather Warning - NSFW Larissa Weems x f!Reader

Summary: A blizzard comes barreling through the area and you find yourself stranded———in Larissa’s quarters.

Pairing(s): Larissa Weems x femprof!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, smut – fingering and cunnilingus (reader receiving); Larissa gets an orgasm

Word Count: ~6.3k (oops)

Author’s Note: Whaaat? A fic? From me? Finally?? I hope this was worth the wait! Thanks to all you lovely folk who’ve been so patient with me; there’s been a lot going on in my life so I’m very appreciative of you all. Feedback, as always, is welcome and encouraged! ♡ ﹠. a special thank you to my beta readers @sapphicsbeloved and @zephyr-is-tired ——— sending you many kisses and finger waggles for your help! 😙🥰 ╱ AO3

You try not to begrudge the snow for falling when and where it will. It’s pretty, you have to admit: soft, and flurried, sweeping over the stone grounds of Nevermore without prejudice. You peer out from your window and watch scattered groups of students chase after each other gleefully, faces turned up toward the sky like small purple sunflowers in their school uniforms, arms outstretched and reaching. The low angle of the sun against the trees suggests dusk will fall soon, just enough light still to cast long, excitable shadows across the ground.

A smile prods at your lips as you turn away from the window and further into your classroom with the intention of setting up for your last class of the day. You’d originally planned to guide them through a review period for an exam next week, but with the state of the sky and the weekend finally here, you decide a film might instead be just what everyone needs; you can afford to push the exam back another day, and really, they’ll be gunning for extra time where they can get it anyway. You know your students well enough.

When the kids begin filing in, you delegate tasks without explanation, the room abuzz as you instruct one student to close the blinds and a few others to adjust the desks just so. You catch a glimpse of the world down below before the windows cover up: Steady flurries still, but nothing that worries you. The kids’ thrill at spending the period in relaxation when you reveal your plan to them is enough to distract from any further thoughts on the weather, anyhow.

The hour passes swiftly as you sit in the back grading papers, every so often glancing up to take stock of the room. Everyone files out just as fast at the sound of the bell and calls out wishes for a good weekend while you’re left to rearrange the room back into its original state. You take care of the desks first, pack your own items up, decide to leave the windows for Monday since it’s dark out by now, no longer any ribbons of light sneaking through the cracks where the blinds don’t quite meet glass. A nice bottle of wine, a fire, maybe a few candles and a good book… the night is promising, and you run through a mental checklist of how many comfort items and practices you can employ as you wander down to the front entrance, bundled up tightly in your coat to brave the cold.

But when you reach the landing of the long staircase, the sight that greets you is not promising in the slightest: the outer floodlights cast a muted glow over what had been a harmless shower of snow, now furious gusts of heavy flakes collecting faster than your brain can entertain. There has to be at least a couple inches out there already, and the realization that you’ll have to navigate through the winding, hilly roads of Vermont in the middle of this elicits a groan. The treeline is hardly visible amidst the dark and the snow, and the roads are likely no better off: the town tends to skirt right around Nevermore when salting the streets. This drive’ll be a perilous one at best.

“Absolutely not.” The sound of Larissa’s disapproval startles you into a sharp and over-dramatic gasp, every muscle of yours tensing at once when her voice comes from just behind you.

“Jesus, you scared me! ‘Absolutely not’ what?” You turn to her with features marred by confusion - once the surprise has melted away - and tilt your head up, taking a small step back to balance yourself when you realize how close she is. She looms over you in a way only she can: regal and overwhelming–––yet cordial all the same, offset by the soft floralness of her perfume. The fact that she’d reached you there without a sound would likely be unsettling if it were anyone else. With her it’s just… attractive, the slyness of it all. The mischievous grin she bares in response to how you jump doesn’t help.

“There is absolutely no chance I’m letting you drive in that.” This elicits an incredulous scoff as you peer up at her, arms lifting at your sides like a pair of very exasperated, very amused wings.

“Letting me? What am I supposed to do? Break my back sleeping on the floor of the library? No thanks.”

“Don’t be silly,” Larissa tsks, pressing her lips together in an all too familiar demonstration of thought. She’s quick with her next words, though, and something tells you there wasn’t much thought to be given at all. “You’ll stay with me.”

The firmness with which she says this, the matter-of-fact tone that has always so easily slid off her tongue, leaves no room for discussion. You gape at her but Larissa’s already swiveling on her heel and walking in the direction of her office as though it’s been decided once and for all, no questions asked. She throws a crooked finger over her shoulder and gestures for you to follow, the sound of her heels now echoing through the mostly-empty halls.

You wonder, frivolously, how in the hell you didn’t hear her the first time around.

You rush after her with quick steps in an effort to keep up; Larissa’s long, unhesitating strides carry her farther and faster than you can move without some effort. The view of her backside, however, is not one that merits complaint. You follow the curve of it up until you come upon a landing you’re not familiar with, nearly knocking into Larissa when she halts abruptly and turns towards you for the first time since this little journey began. She looks almost unsure of herself now, eyes flitting about rather than meeting yours. It’s one thing, you know, to flirt in passing; to brush arms when you’re both chaperoning students in Jericho; to trade amused, knowing glances across faculty meetings. But it’s another to invite you into her sanctuary, a decisive and loaded crossing of one of the last lines between the two of you.

“If you’d prefer, I believe there’s an empty dorm room I can have made up for you. It’d be no problem.” She finally looks down at you long enough for you to read what’s going on behind that mask of hers, typically pristine and perhaps a touch righteous: she’s trying to give you an out, trying to relinquish control for a second before she commandeers your night, and she’s worried she’s already gone too far by bringing you up here in the first place.

But you’re not going to say no to a night at Larissa’s side, especially when the potential for a warm fire and a glass of wine or two is so high.

Especially when it’s her asking.

“No, it’s alright. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“Not at all,” she’s quick to blurt out, shaking her head. “I simply wanted to make sure you knew you had the option, that’s all.”

With that, Larissa turns again and begins the ascent to what you assume is her hall–––until you’ve reached another landing with only one door, and she pushes it open to reveal an entire apartment all her own. It’s very her, this place: Warm, shining, elegant. The living room is awash with low, simmering lights, furnished with a mix of dark leather and velour, a towering bookcase taking up the whole of one of the far walls with an accompanying reading nook. She walks you further into the threshold and eases the door closed behind you, hovering silently as you take the space in. There are a few framed art pieces that you promise yourself you’ll review more thoroughly later on, scattered vases of flowers and various, high-hanging mirrors.

What truly draws your attention, however, are the photos strategically lining the walls, clearly taken at various points in Larissa’s life: A small platinum-blonde girl carefully posed before a Christmas tree with two very proper looking hounds on either side of her, all very regal and staged except for the wide, nose-crinkling grin on the girl’s face; a beach trip with the same girl, slightly older now, arm thrown over her face as she squints against the sun and into the camera - and a pair of kids that look to be around her age chase each other in the background; teenage Larissa suited up and on horseback, smiling proudly as a judge strings a blue ribbon around the horse’s halter; graduation photos from Nevermore; a trip to the Scottish Highlands, it looks like, a twenty-something Larissa soaked to the bone but grinning out at the miles and miles of luscious greens like she couldn’t be bothered less by the weather. It’s the most you’ve ever seen of her.

Eventually Larissa brushes behind you, laying a hand at your waist in passing as she toes off her heels and begins the process of lighting the fireplace.

Her touch leaves an emphatic tingle in its wake.

“I didn’t think my wall was that particularly exciting,” she muses, glancing over her shoulder at you. You duck your head and turn from the wall, following her lead as you slip out of your shoes and place them next to her own.

“I always like to see what people were like before I knew them. It’s intimate.” Larissa’s gaze softens almost imperceptibly before she returns her attention to the fire, adjusting the logs one last time and replacing the latch on the brass screen.

“What do they tell you, those pictures?” She wipes her hands and comes to rest against the edge of a couch, gazing at you as you shift on your feet and consider her question. Her eyes remain soft, but there’s something else lurking there behind the blue now: Curiosity? Interest? Desire, even? You can’t read it for sure, so you clear your throat and move back to the photographs on her wall, crossing your arms over yourself.

“Well, .. this one,” you start, gesturing towards the Christmas tree, “screams rich.” Larissa snorts loudly and tilts her head in a way that says you’re not wrong. “Probably an only child - at least at the time, otherwise there’d be other kids with you.” Her smile gives nothing away this time, but you charge ahead, brushing your fingers against the frame that holds the beach between its borders.

“This isn’t an American beach, that much I know.” You choose not to elaborate, allowing your ‘Americanness’ to speak for itself. “But I can’t tell if you grew up going there or if it was a special vacation, maybe visiting family… ?” you trail off as your gaze drifts over to her questioningly. She just shrugs, and you click your teeth in mock disapproval before moving on.

“You look happy here,” you observe, allowing your hand to drift over the photo of Larissa in her English riding gear. “Unforced. You enjoyed competing, maybe preferred your horse to people.” This one might be an unfair deduction, supplemented by your understanding of how cruel kids can be–––especially to an outcast, especially to a 6’3” girl.

“The Duke,” Larissa pitches in, pushing up off the couch’s back to join just behind your shoulder, gazing over at the photo in question. “My mother hated the name, but I insisted. He was a gift for my fifteenth birthday,” she reminisces, breath coursing over the tip of your ear. You peer up at her as she smiles, something sad and regretful there before she sucks in a deep breath and points out a new photo to you, more recent by the looks of it: Larissa stands with a large group of students in their Nevermore uniforms, mid-laugh as one of the kids waves his hands wildly and another has their mouth agape in what looks to be protest. Her eyes are crinkled - genuine - and one of her hands seems to be in the process of making its way up to cover her mouth, the other mindlessly resting at her midsection. You know that laugh. It’s her most uninhibited, her most authentic, which only comes out when she’s caught completely off-guard. Your favorite, if you’re honest.

“My first class of students as principal of Nevermore,” Larissa offers, scrunching her nose happily at the memory.

“What’d he say? That student?” You’re part genuine curiosity and part selfishness: eager to know what made her laugh like that, and how you can take hold of that kid’s humor and use it for yourself, elicit a look like that, a laugh like that, which so rarely comes about during school hours.

“I wish I could remember,” she murmurs, taking one last look before clasping her hands together and shocking you out of the reverie. “But nevermind all that. Have you eaten dinner yet?”

You nod sheepishly, nearly apologetic knowing she likely hasn’t and is looking to be a good hostess. But she merely nods, looking relieved: “Oh good, I can’t be bothered to cook tonight,” Larissa admits, a teasing grin stretching from ear to ear.

“Let me show you where everything is, then.” She guides you down the hall and nudges one of the doors open, gesturing with an open palm. “Here’s the bathroom. Extra amenities are in the second drawer there, towels in the closet.” The suite is nicer than any bathroom you’ve ever had, really the stuff of luxury hotels: white marble floors, a deep soaking tub, gold knobs and handles on almost every appliance. You’ve no choice but to forcefully shoo away the startling, indecent imaginings that break through your reserves of Larissa sinking deep into the lush bubbles of the tub, skin glistening, chest bare––––

“Heated floors, too. I never go cold in the winters.” Ever humble, Larissa pulls at your shoulder gently and switches the light off, directing you to another door just diagonal of the bathroom. When she swings the door open, you’re embarrassingly aware of the way your jaw drops.

“Bedroom’s this way,” she says, stepping into the space. It’s gorgeous, swooping drapes of dark ruby and gold, satin bedding that pools over the mattress and onto the floor, puddles of fabric against a thick persian rug. There’s another fireplace opposite the bed, an area farther off with another scaling bookcase and two large, well-worn armchairs, a small number of intricately designed table and floor lamps, a matching vanity and armoire, the former of which is careful, lived-in chaos with its scattered tubes of lipstick and skin care tinctures.

It’s Larissa.

“Wow,” you breathe, meeting her amused gaze. “You never mentioned you live like this. I would’ve taken you up on a sleepover much sooner if I’d known.” Larissa flushes and coughs out a coy laugh, smoothing a hand over her hair as she looks out across the room.

“Yes, well. You’re here now.” She reaches out and lifts your handbag from you, pulling at your coat lapel next to signal you should take it off. Once you do, Larissa hangs it along one of the walls and places your bag on her vanity. Busy work. “I have clothes you can borrow of course, though they may be a bit big. I’ll set them out, although,” she pauses, glancing at her bedside clock, “it’s early still… Up for a movie? Glass of wine?”

You’re almost - almost - embarrassed by the unrestrained nodding of your head, but hell, it’s been a long week, and relaxing with a bottle of wine sounds like the perfect reward for making it through without breaking down [in front of your students]. The fact that it’s Larissa’s personal wine, in her personal quarters, in her personal hands does nothing to lessen the appeal.

The question of where Larissa will sleep, if showing you the bedroom was her way of offering it to you, hangs in your head, but you decide the answer can wait until the time for sleep comes around. By no means are you going to allow Larissa to banish herself to the couch in her own home. You’d sooner take the floor–––even if you’d jokingly complained about that very same concept earlier in the hour.

“Do you have a preferred genre?” She asks as you both return to the living room, you perching on the sofa as she disappears into what you assume is the kitchen to fetch the wine. It’s not normally a loaded question, nor one worth considering too deeply, but you realize you have an opportunity here… and if Larissa’s occasional blushes, her soft gaze, mean what you hope they do, perhaps there’s a strategy to be employed. You shift further into the cushions, absentmindedly running a hand over your clavicle in thought.

“Don’t laugh… but I’m a sucker for romance when the weather’s like this,” you call out. Larissa peeks her head out from around the corner, brows furrowed in funny disbelief.

“Really?”

“Wha–– why is that so hard to believe?!”

“It’s not, I just.. wasn’t expecting it, I suppose. You seem more of the action or thriller type.” She shrugs and disappears again without further explanation, leaving you to half-pout half-ponder at her words. Before you can make an argument in your defense, however, she’s returning with two full glasses, bottle tucked under her arm, and dimming the lights, a practiced look of concentration slanted across her features as she makes her way over to the couch and lowers one of the glasses into your waiting hand. The red sloshes up just near the edge when Larissa hands it off, and you half-jokingly prod at her as your brows shoot up in amusement.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Principal Weems?” She tuts with faux indignation, but the growing flush of her cheeks betrays her.

“I wouldn’t dare.” She settles next to you - still a respectable distance for colleagues, but closer than mere acquaintances - and places the uncorked bottle on the table ahead of you, grinning.

“Romance it is, but I pick.” You ‘d be surprised by her demand if you didn’t know Larissa’s need to be in control at all times. In fact, if anything surprises you, it’s her calmness in the face of this turbulent weather–––perhaps the most uncontrollable variable there is. Even the most headstrong people can be manipulated, but not the sky.

The film she chooses isn’t one you’ve seen before, which excites you, and you both sink into the couch with a comfortable silence. You share little notes back and forth on the revolving plots and chuckle at the occasional joke, however cliché, as the movie rolls, finding an easy rhythm you’ve never before been able to appreciate amidst the chaos of classes and faculty meetings.

It’s about an hour in, having finished your first glass and poured another for yourself and Larissa, that you make the mistake of peering over at her from the corner of your eye. A particularly sappy scene is playing out before you. The TV’s light flickers softly against her face, which is content and dare you say tender as the two protagonists share a moment together. The stumble before the fall. Her forehead creases and you have the sudden urge to kiss the lines away, warmed by the wine and her beauty.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispers hoarsely, though her eyes never leave the screen.

Your heart jolts when she catches you out, running hot with guilt. Your legs shift beneath you as you move to scoot a few inches away - to give her space from your leering gaze - but you freeze when you feel her hand on your knee, holding you in place. You watch her for any sign that’ll tell you what’s going through her head but she doesn’t budge further, only loosening her hold on you a fraction when you relax against the cushions again. Your heart is beating hard at the door of your ribs as you tilt your head back towards the movie, far too distracted to actually process anything that’s happening. The air is so thick now your lungs can hardly keep up; it’s a dizzying thing, electric, and your thoughts jumble haphazardly as you wonder whether or not Larissa’s feeling it, too.

You risk a peek at her again–––but Larissa is already looking at you.

Her chest is heaving, albeit subtly, and her eyes are dark. A steep wave of arousal pulses through you when her tongue slips out along her upper lip, her gaze flicking down to your mouth and back up again: a question. The second you nod her mouth is on yours, both of you sighing into the touch. You cup the back of her neck, pulling her closer still as your other hand fists around the fabric of her dress. An insistent tug at your waist brings one of your legs between her own, hips rolling against each other as she gropes at you mindlessly, squeezing the thigh slotted over her heat.

“Is this okay?” she asks breathlessly, dragging your bottom lip between her teeth before she pulls away to look at you. Her cheeks are flushed a heavy pink and her lipstick is smudged. You giggle at the realization that there must be bright crimson streaks along your chin and lips.

“Yes,” you assure her between steadying pants, stroking a hand from her shoulder to her wrist and entwining your fingers, giving them a gentle pinch. “You alright?”

A smile briefly turns her lips, soft and loose. “Very much so.”

The next few moments are sweeter, slower as you take your time savoring her taste, tracing the swell of her lips, the delicate scar at the top there, following the line of her jaw up into her hair with your fingertips. She presses into you as gentle as ever, drawing shivers up to the surface of your skin as her hand snakes up the length of your spine. Barely there still is the sound of the fire lingering in its box and the distinct roar of wintry gusts at the window, mere suggestions at the back of your brain. The wine’s been long forgotten on the table.

You shudder when Larissa’s fingers tease at the lower hem of your blouse and brush against a bare sliver of skin, resting there before you arch into her and take hold of her wrist, guiding her hand higher. Her lips quirk to one side at your earnestness, especially as she reaches the clasp of your bra. She hesitates again, more teasing than searching, and slides her tongue into your willing mouth, exhaling sharply when you meet her move for move. Nimble fingers unclasp the bra without issue before they drift around to your front, putting distance between your bodies as Larissa palms your breasts, takes a nipple between her fingertips and pulls and twists with wicked dexterity.

A whimper escapes you when she sinks her teeth into your lip for a second time, much harsher this go around before she suddenly parts from you and begins pressing open-mouth kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and soothing in time with the hapless rocking of your hips. She adjusts to unbutton your top, never once pausing in her assault on your neck as she does so.

“Wait,” you pant out suddenly, and all at once her body leaves you, drawing back to give you space. The look on Larissa’s face is a concerned one, but gentle still, and you know she’ll follow where you need. It’s everything you can do not to keep her waiting in exchange for the chance to look at her, swollen lips and mussed hair, dress askew.

She’s never been more beautiful to you.

“Take me to bed.”

Her concern is washed away and replaced with relief - and then more prominent, want.

Larissa rises up from the couch and reaches a hand out to you, catching you off-guard when instead of walking you to the bedroom once you stand, she bends at the knee and scoops you up, your legs coming to wrap around her waist as you laugh in surprise.

“Who am I to say no,” she teases, placing a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips before making the careful trek over to the bedroom.

The question of where she’ll sleep is hardly that anymore.

You’re both already naked and rocking against each other beneath her blankets when the power goes out. Neither of you truly take notice until the temperature in the room’s significantly plummeted.

“Oh–––one moment, darling.” You push yourself up on your elbows and whine as Larissa slips out of bed, hissing against the cold. Goosebumps raise along her skin, the peaks of her nipples hardening further as she rushes to kneel before the fireplace, sparking a flame in record time. Her skin nearly glows in the moonlight that trickles in from the windows, reflective amidst the snow. She looks like a ghost before you - ethereal, hauntingly so - and you tilt your head, gaze tracking from the deep slope of her calves to the fine curve of her ass, the faint divots of her spine, the wisps of hair that have come loose from their hold and fallen to her shoulders.

“You’re staring,” Larissa chides as she slides back under the covers, shivering.

“I’m admiring,” you correct lamely, a pitiful pout coming to rest upon your lips as you open your arms and draw her closer to warm her now-frigid skin. She hums as if to say ‘yeah, okay,’ burrows into you and drapes an arm across your middle as she pushes her leg between yours. Your hips instinctively buck when her thigh slides against the wetness of your cunt, and you’re both abruptly reminded of what had you so distracted in the first place.

Larissa tentatively nods towards you again and runs the tip of her tongue along your pulse point, your hips beginning to rock together once more, panting heavily and in unison while the storm surges on outside, unabated. The heat pooling in your stomach is in stark contrast to the drifting chill in the room, rearing a confused, overwhelming sensation of hot-cold along your skin. Larissa’s breath, warm on your neck, only further urges the feeling along until you feel as though you might snap if she doesn’t take you fully.

“Please,” you whimper, dragging your nails up over her back with little reserve. Larissa nips at your chin and yanks your leg further across her, taut against your clit.

“Please what?” Her voice is raked over with a carnal desire the likes of which you’ve never seen on her before, deep and airy. It only serves to pull the coil tighter. Your breath hitches as she pushes herself up on her hands and knees, hovering over you now, and she leans down, down until her face is level with yours, an intense wave of adoration flooding through you as she caresses one of your cheeks. She whispers, “I want you to beg, sweetheart,” and it’s all over, never a chance, the air all but torn from you, slick heat gone straight to your cunt.

Beg for her. Beg for Her. No matter how many times the thought bounces around within that empty little head of yours, you’re frozen in place both by lust and surprise. You’ve had your share of fun, of course, but the type that usually involves you calling the shots, taking charge. You thought you liked it that way.

You might’ve been wrong.

You’re only finally jostled from your thoughts when Larissa pulls back and draws a brow up at your silence. A shadow of concern passes over her face but you’re quick to pull her back in, nodding.

“Please fuck me,” you all but whisper, desperate to be filled, to be warmed, to be taken care of while the elements ravage the earth beyond these four walls. Larissa grins smugly at your feebleness, pressing her full weight upon you before she winds a hand down between your bodies, cupping your slickness in her palm. You’re dripping all over yourself, you know: a cool, nearly chafing wetness coating the inside of your thighs, so easily spread when Larissa dips her fingers in between your folds. She sinks a single digit into you just halfway, draws it out, sinks in again and curls it against that soft spot, yes, right there––

She easily adds another and hums at the way your body translates its own neediness, busying her mouth with the soft line of your jaw.

“You feel so good..” she murmurs as her fingers bury themselves into you knuckle-deep, so long and soft and better than you’d ever imagined (and you’d certainly spent time imagining it). Her hips press into yours from above, throwing weight behind her hand as she rolls against you, a slow and steady fucking that excites the fire already roaring within you. You gaze up at her in awe as her eyelids flutter in time with the movement of her hips, realizing she’s found just the right friction against the back of her own hand that each time she thrusts into you, a firm, rippling pressure rubs up against her own clit.

Your hands search frantically now until they’re planted at the slope of Larissa’s waist and you watch, carefully, as you pull her harder into each drive of her hips, rejoicing when she gasps and shudders into the pattern, breaking it for a fraction of a second before driving into you with a far greater desperation.

“Oohf, yes, th-that’s it, darling,” she pants out before capturing your lips in a sloppy, bruising kiss. Suddenly your own orgasm is incidental as you revel in the picture of her coming undone above you, chest flushed, cheeks pink, her hair falling further from its updo as she works her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Look at me, I want to see you,” you clamor with a novel burst of confidence, hands drifting up from her waist to cup her face in your palms. You want to look her in the eye when she cums. You want the memory of her sounds, her face, so deeply imbedded in your mind that it’ll keep you warm when you’ve returned to your own quarters. You want, you want, you want, and she whimpers - a heavenly sound - and obliges, gaze unfocused for a moment before she looks down at you, tongue darting out as she attempts to maintain some degree of focus.

“Right there, right there.. I can feel how close you are,” you huffily encourage, shifting so that both of your legs wrap tight around her and wrench her deeper, harder into you, smiling when her breath hitches at the change of pace and pressure against her sex. You watch her closely, in awe: Larissa’s brows are furrowed, her mouth fallen open and the pink of her tongue closely matched to that of her cheeks, the slight swell of her tits lurching which each thrust. The knowledge that each plunge into your cunt brings her closer is surreal––that she’s so obviously getting off on fucking you, that the frantic snap of her hips is building both of you up, simultaneously.

Her hips begin to stutter into you, airy whimpers falling from her as she teeters on the edge, fingers curling haphazardly in an attempt to continue fucking you through the oncoming rush of her orgasm. The mattress rocks and dips momentarily as Larissa gasps, sharp, and suddenly bows over you with the force of her climax, breath hot on your neck, forehead pressed into your temple, chest heaving against yours as she mindlessly ruts. Her fingers remain buried in your heat, pulsing slowly in time with her come-down.

Larissa’s body shudders as you run your palm over her in light, gentle sweeps, one hand carefully traveling to cup the back of her neck.

“You’re alright.. I know.. ‘s good, hm?” You feel a weak nod at your side, Larissa eventually stilling atop you. The pad of her thumb draws slow, lazy circles around your clit as her breathing slows, nosing the crook between your shoulder and neck.

“Christ,” she mumbles against your skin, and you chuckle as her lips draw a line from your ear to your chin.

“Yeah?” She hums and - slowly, determined - begins to wriggle down your body until her face is level with your cunt, glancing up at you with a blissed-out smirk before she presses an open-mouthed kiss to your slickness. The wet warmth of her tongue slides easily against you, dipping between your folds, lapping up the puddle that’s collected at your center, working in tandem with the pressure of her thumb at your clit, a feeling dumbly akin to religious devotion: a reverent prayer at your sex, holy flames licking up the walls of her bedroom, the weighted creases of her sheets stretched where she kneels before you.

A strong gust of wind wracks the shutters of her windows. They bang haphazardly against the glass, knocking in time with the surges of the storm.

Your fingers clench around the bed covers as Larissa rolls over your entrance once more, teasing, then pushing into your dripping hole with an embarrassing ease. She fucks you slow and as deep as she’s able, fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips. Not even the devil themself could stop you from rolling your pussy against her face in search of some greater friction, whining as the sounds of her tongue wading through your arousal mixes with the crackling of the fireplace, the moan of the storm outside.

“Ohfuckyes,” you pant as your legs spread further on their own accord, knees drawing up to alter the angle at which your pleasure floods through you. She moves with delicious ability, and you watch the stark blondeness of her hair bob with every fervent lap of her tongue, overwhelmed with the sudden realness of the moment: Larissa’s scent on the pillows, her lipstick smudged across your lips, her sweat on your skin. Her thumb abandons your clit, and a desperate cry waits at the threshold of your mouth until her finger is replaced with the pointed flicking of her tongue, quick and full and firm against you. The coil pulls tight within your core.

She murmurs something brusque but you’re too consumed with the sensation of her fingertips at your inner thigh to process, but she repeats herself as you release a heavy sigh, her fingers sinking deep into your cunt.

“That’s a good girl..." Your back arches at the same time Larissa takes your clit into her mouth, sucking and slurping as if to drink from that little bundle of nerves drawn straight to your core, as if to quench an otherworldly thirst. She pulls your orgasm from you quick and unforgivingly, never stumbling in her ministrations when your thighs begin to close in around her, or when your hands wind into her hair and pull, hard. She continues to devour you as if she doesn’t notice the snapping of that coil, the sounds that melt into the satiny sheets of her bed as you cry out for her–––the curling into yourself as your clit throbs towards unbearable tenderness.

“Fff––please, please, I’m––” Sapphire eyes bore into yours as her lips stretch into a devious smile, slowly but surely unlatching. A mercy, if you’ve ever seen one. You tremble in relief.

“You can’t take it?” she coos, superficial concern floating by your quivering sex. You don’t know whether to pull her closer or push her away when Larissa glances down towards your soaking cunt again––––

but the choice is made for you when she draws herself up and grabs hold of your chin, pushing her tongue into the waiting cavern of your mouth. The sure expanse of her thigh slides between your legs as she does so, eliciting a startled twitch as she brushes against your clit. She swallows your gasp.

“So sweet.” Larissa nips at your chin, presses her thigh against you more firmly and rubs her thumb back and forth along your cheek. Your hips buck of their own volition, acting solely on the most primal of instincts despite the sensitive twinge between your legs. There’s only Larissa’s softness, her warmth, her gentle affection circling your head, coloring the air around you. The world’s ending outside and it’s just her.

“Please kiss me,” you whisper, suddenly overcome with the need to absorb her, to touch her anywhere and everywhere all at once as if you could meld together somehow amidst the tousled satin.

She stills, hovering over you with a smile so soft you’re almost certain this has all been a very long, very desperate webbing of dreams until she obliges, brushing her lips against yours with the utmost of care.

“Are you alright?” Her voice is hushed, eyes searching.

“Better than alright,” you assure her, brushing a stray hair from in front of her face. “Kind of just wanted to be close to you…” You shrug sheepishly and turn your attention to the far wall, suddenly very interested in the twisting shadows of trees cast against the space there. The abrupt rush of vulnerability reddens your cheeks, lips pursing as the regret at such an intimate admission prickles up with equal swiftness. It’s quickly brushed away, however, when Larissa clicks her tongue and tilts your face towards her with a palm against your cheek, brow arched amusedly.

“Then be close,” she says, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your nose before she pulls you flush against her and buries her face into your neck. The fire’s dwindling, informed by the dying light of the room, the falling temperature beyond the bed, but neither of you notice as you wrap yourselves up in the arms of the other, tending to a warmth all your own.

#i’ve been super stressed trying to live up to ‘easy does it’ tbh so i hope this is at least decent 😅#don’t think i’ll ever beat the sugar mommy fic lol #ah well!#i love exploring/constructing the parts of larissa we never saw (like her childhood) ﹠. i hope you guys do too!#my girl’s def a rider #i’ll stand by that till the day i die #accompanied by expensive purebred well-trained dogs throughout childhood #but is more of a cat person now – relaxed and easy #guilty pleasure romcom is ‘the proposal’#and not just bc that’s also MY guilty pleasure romcom 😇#n e ways hope you all enjoy :)#lmk your thoughts! 🫶🏼#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x female reader #larissa weems x f!reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #larissa weems imagine #larissa weems reader insert #larissa weems smut #principal weems x reader #principal weems imagine #wasjustred

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weirdthinkingdragon · 1 year

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I've recently had numerous ideas that won't leave my head that don't involve a canon fictional character. (That's wild to me lol)

Warning- kinda longish rant ideas.

1. A forced sugar daddy/mommy. I would never feel comfortable having a sugar person. It just doesn't feel right to me and I'd feel bad spending a cent even if that's what they're for. But... a FORCED one on the other hand...

Think of it. you're standing out SEVERELY at some rich party just to drop something off for a rich friend of yours (that you also refuse too much money from). Somehow the yandere grows interested in you and asks your friend about you when you leave and it spirals from there.

At first they straight up ask you, but you decline. They pester, yet you still decline. The more you decline, the more obsessed they become. Then comes the threat where they easily paid an insane amount of money (to even some rich people) to get every speck of dirt they could on you, and blackmails you with it. Either let them be your sugar daddy/mommy and live with them, or they'll make sure your life is a living hell and you'll never be able to work again. Actually... that's not a bad idea. Then you'd HAVE to rely on them no matter what! Oh, they can't wait to have you wear expensive clothing in your favorite color! Deck you out with stuff to mark you as only theirs! And to cuddle you at night is thrilling them beyond belief!

(Irl that's like a dream come true. Never working again lol)

Ugh if I didn't have so much on my plate already rn I'd write a fic of this.

2. A yandere hero AND villain. They've kept their eyes on you for a while, but one day they can't get to you in time and you get seriously hurt. They have enough of it. They know each other likes you, and ironically enough, surprisingly get along. They both just do the jobs for money. (I like to think of a world heroes get paid for being superpowered heroes) Honestly, the hero couldn't care less about anyone BUT you. Obviously the villain wouldn't care, causing casualties very often. Being kidnapped into the villain's place and watched like a hawk by either of them or the villain's minions.

Escape no matter what is impossible. And if you have medical issues, well, the 2 together have ways to make sure you get what's needed no matter what. Ironically whenever you're stuck being snuggled by one or both, the villain is always the one more gentle to hold you, even if you anger them.

#yandere x yn #yandere x you #yandere idea #yandere imagines #x you #x yn #sfw #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere poly x reader #yandere sugar daddy #yandere sugar mommy #yandere hero #yandere villain #yandere hero x you #yandere hero x reader #yandere villain x you #yandere villain x reader

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virginburial · 9 months

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hi! could i request something with ethan x fem!reader (or gn, whichever makes you the most comfortable :)) where reader is this really like, wealthy kid at blackmore who’s part of the core four (but since she’s in it… maybe fab five? idk 😭 i suck at this) and she’s dating ethan and just loves to spoil him? i’m assuming he’s like a broke college student, and the whole group kinda jokes that’s she’s his sugar mommy lmao. if you’re not up for it, feel free to ignore this request! i love your work <3 can’t wait to read more of your writing, thank you so so much for sharing it with us!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ I so clearly saw Gossip Girl in my head I'm dead x-x but let me break down why this would absolutely work on Ethan

Ethan Landry CD mix! .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

especially since I'm getting an old money-great Gatsby feel out of it, your family probably owns a company that's been around for generations, one of those Rockefeller/Vanderbilt types. the kind of family HBO writes hit dramas about. You weren't snobby about it but still carried yourself differently than all your peers (you knew you were hot shit). So when regular-schmegular middle-class suburban boy next door Ethan catches your eye, it is a shock to everyone, especially him.

Ethan barely had a job and was living off of loans, like everyone else. you noticed this when he nervously asked you out to Olive Garden and ate nothing but the free breadsticks and some soda. you felt bad; you could tell he wanted to impress you.

so you started bringing him coffee every time you walk to class together; "I can't hold your books and the coffee y/n-" "-just take the fucking latte, Ethan!" he was too humble to take your offerings, but soon, as your romantic relationship with him evolved, so did his acceptingness and gratitude. You two would go to the mall and whatever Ethan stared at for more than five seconds would be coming home with you. other times, you'd door-dash him food whenever he studied for hours on end, because you knew Ethan had the habit of focusing too much on his studies and forgetting to eat.

"dude! she's totally your sugar mommy." Chad would tease, or Mindy and Anika would comment about asking you for permission before he does anything; "Don't you need your momma's blessing before you do that?" It's a little annoying, but Ethan knows the truth; you loved to spoil him, and he loved being spoiled by you. you loved seeing how excited he gets over a pair of sneakers or some dinner, and he loved knowing that the person he loves thinks about him and what he liked. you're abundant, and you felt it was important to share that abundance with the ones you loved. speaking of, your relationship with Ethan reached a point where he was offered an internship within your family's business; which lead to the both of you heading back to the mall, helping Ethan pick which suit he should wear to the interview.

and, of course, Ethan is on his knees, eating you out in the dressing room because he is just so grateful. getting stains all over his button-up as your juices drip down his chin and run down his neck. whatever, you were going to buy it for him anyways.

.·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ >⸝ ა

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veeluvss · 1 year

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emily is your sugar mummy

erm mainly spice ?

more of a plot filler.

part 2

i heard the ping on my phone and quickly glanced at it, seeing emily’s message pop up. i excused myself from the table, sliding away from my parents nosy glares and headed to the bathroom.

e - you have half an hour to be at my apartment or they’ll be consequences.

i gulped. i was busy, there was no way i was getting there in half an hour. not a chance. and consequences? what consequences?

y/n - i’m busy. can it be 2 hours?

her reply came through almost instantly and i didn’t really want to look.

e - 2? are you having a laugh? i said half an hour. be there in 30 minutes.

y/n - emmmm, i’m at dinner with my parents.

e - and?

y/n - and i can’t just leave !

e - you have half an hour little lady.

she went offline then and my heart sped up even higher. even if i left now i won’t be there in half an hour, not with the dinner time traffic. i walked out of the bathroom and slid back into the seat beside my mother.

“you look awfully pale,” she said in her typical British accent.

“oh, erm,” i muttered, lowering my head. “i don’t feel too good.”

“would you like to skip dinner today darling? maybe rearrange for tomorrow or when you feel better?” my father asked. i looked up at him and nodded meekly.

“what? no! we leave in a few days and she can’t get over her silly sickness for some food?” my mother asked my father, whispering in her stupid angry whisper.

“she needs to enjoy herself. she can’t enjoy herself is she’s feeling poorly, would you like her to make a mess in public?”

“any daughter of mine can control themselves!” my mother said, voice raised. i rolled my eyes, set down my napkin and got up. i wasn’t going to let her talk about me like that - sick or not.

“where do you think you’re going?” she asked, slamming down her own knife and fork.

“to control myself,” i smiled. “good day, mother.” i nodded my head at her and walked out of the restaurant, quickly hailing a taxi.

it got to 30 minutes and i wasn’t there. we were still round the corner and i felt my heart hammer in my chest. consequences. i paid the taxi man and climbed out of the car, knowing it would be quicker to walk than sit in the traffic.

i slid into the elevator and pressed the top button. of course emily has the pent house. well, one of them.

i knocked on her door, awaiting her answer and tapped my foot anxiously. god, what was she going to do with me. i could hear her behind the door and i gulped as she approached it. i heard the lock click and then the door opened, just a crack.

her brown eyes peered round the door and her greying hair dropped down -

“can i help you?” she asked.

“i’m sorry i’m late,” i muttered. she sighed and opened the door more. she stayed rooted to the spot though, not allowing me to enter. she checked her watch, sitting humbly on her wrist.

“i said 30 minutes not 34 minutes.”

“i know! i tried to get here as quick as possible!” i whined. she sighed and moved to the side, letting me in.

i slid under her arm and waited in her hallway. it had been a week since we had had sex and to be honest, i was expecting her to pin me against the wall but she didn’t. instead, she put her hand on the bottom of my back and walked me through her apartment to the living area.

“sit down,” she ordered. i sat with no hesitation, confused on what was happening. “would you like a drink, some biscuits?” she asked me and i grew more confused. i shook my head and she sighed.

“you know i expect verbal answers, y/n.” i gulped again and gave her a polite ‘no thankyou’ to which she nodded.

she sat opposite me, leaning back in her chair and crossed her ankle over her knee. i, sitting on the edge of the seat, was full of anxiety.

“i have a proposal.” she said quietly.

“what’s that?”

“i have this work thing,” she whispered, moving her hands all over the place. “next week.”

“okay?”

“i need you to be my plus 1,” she said, looking at me through her eyelashes.

“really?” at the start, we agreed we’d keep everything private. no one was to know who i was, no one was to know who she was. as the unit chief for the bau, i understood that - she had high stakes in her job and she needed to be respected but now this?

“thursday. everyone is taking their partners. Luke and JJ suggested i bring, you,” she said.

“they know about me?”

“they know i have a close friend,” she said gently, sitting up. “y/n, it’ll be a busy night. i’m hoping people will be too busy to question our relationship. all you need to do is look pretty and hang off my arm,” she smiled, leaning forward in her seat.

i gave her a side eye, thinking it over. my feelings for emily prentiss had never gone away and now i had to pretend to be in a relationship with her? god.

“400 if you agree,” she muttered, pulling out the money from her pocket. my eyes bulged. 400?!

“emily, that’s a lot,” i whispered, backing off slightly.

“and im asking a lot from you sweetheart,” she said gently.

“i don’t need 400,” i told her, shaking my head.

“that doesn’t mean i won’t give it to you. you’re my baby, i’ll pay you as i like it.

do you agree to join me?” she asked, rising to her feet. i gulped and nodded. she took my hand and smiled, brining me to my feet.

“good, 530 on thursday - be here ready to get ready,” she whispered, planting a kiss onto my forehead.

she dropped my hand and went to walk to the front door.

“you text me when i’m in the middle of dinner with my parents, making me come and you won’t let me stay?”

she tutted, turning on her feet. “you still underestimate me, darling.” she pulled out the drawer by her front door and pulled out a red key. i gulped.

slowly, she walked down the hallway but i didn’t dare follow her. i heard the key in the lock, turn twice and the door click open. the light buzzed as it fired up and goosebumps rose on my skin.

“take them clothes off little girl,” she said, down the hallway. i instantly began stripping off, my shoes, my socks, everything.

when she came round the corner, she had the pink rope in her hands, a devilish smirk on her face.

“why am i punishing you?” she whispered slowly as she reached me. she dragged her nails down the front of my stomach as the rope tickled my sides.

“i was late,” i replied.

“i don’t like people being late,” she told me again. she quickly grabbed both my hands and pinned them behind my back. i felt the rope tie around them and she worked her magic, working it up my arms and over my shoulders. the next thing i knew, my arms were supported behind my back and rope dug into my curves. emily stood back, examining her work before leading me through the house.

i stood in the doorway of the locked room, taking it in. for once, i couldn’t wait to be punished.

#criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #emily prentiss #emily prentiss head canons #emily prentiss x reader #emily #prentiss #emily prentiss imagine #emily x reader #sugar mommy

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Note

Hellooo, it's my first time asking for something, I don't even know the rules of this so you can ignore me whilst I learn the tumblr etiquette 🤭 I want something with a badass reader could be a CEO or a mafia leader or a queen or a sugar mommy but something with a powerful reader for a change, don't get me wrong I love seeing bucky or his characters all high and mighty but we can be all of that too 🙆🏻‍♀️

Could be a CEO sugar mommy reader x struggling college nerdy bucky 🤭 hahaha you know college is expensive and his parents help him but there's Becca too and he's working but only part time. They cross paths when he delivers her food or something hahaha I'm bad at this. Sorry.

Anywaysss, I love your writing and your stories. You're amazing and I'm glad you were one of the first blogs I came across when I open my account. Thank you for sharing your talent with us 🙆🏻‍♀️

18+

College Bucky x CEO Sugar mommy reader

I swear I run this blog lawless, I don’t think I even added rules yet. Baby THIS IS FUCKING DELICIOUSSSSS YES PLEASE, bless your brain. I imagined this with Bucky in his 20′s and reader in her 30′s but go a head and imagine your own age gaps if you’re feeling something else.

Warnings: FLUFF AND SMUTTT AND FLUFF AND SMUT

Sugar drabbleish

Bucky's barely able to afford college plus rent when he's living paycheck to paycheck, his part time job doesn't pay enough at all. He works at a local diner; he started off as a bus boy but now he occasionally works in the kitchen or delivers food. It tires him out but he has to do it because between him and his sister, his parents can only help so much.

The first time he has to deliver food to your company, its late and his last order before going home. Its your go to place for when your stressed out and feel like indulging. Bucky’s boss tells him to handle the order carefully; he finds it strange because he’d never been careless with food before. Once he gets to the address, it makes sense. He stares up at the tall glass building before pushing the heavy doors to go inside.

Your secretary sees the take out bag and just waves him the elevator, telling him to go to your office, while she continues to respond to emails. He swallows thickly because he usually just leaves food at a door step and runs off; he feels so out of place in this building. He makes it to the top floor and has to ask for directions to your office; he’s directed to the large wooden doors down the hall. He isn’t sure if he should just walk in or knock first, but he decides to knock just to be safe. He hears a firm come in and he hesitantly pushes the door open.

“I-um, I have your food?”

You nodded, still looking at your laptop before looking up at him. Oh. You’d had people deliver food to you before but none of them looked like that. You can’t help but let your eyes wander up and down; he was adorable. Handsome. Definitely younger, but you internally shrugged, you didn’t mind.

Bucky froze looking at you, he didn’t know who he was expecting but he wasn’t expecting someone like you. You were gorgeous. Attractive. Sure you were older but that just made you sexier. Your hair still neatly in place. You cocked your head while he stayed rooted on the spot, his cheeks tainted pink. He blinked, forcing some blood back to his head before walking over, placing the bag on your desk.

“Thank you” You smiled, handing him a $100, before digging into your food, moaning at the first bite.

Fuck, that pretty sound.

“I-I dont think I have that much change-

“Don’t worry about it” You shrugged, insisting he keep it as a tip, sending him on his way before getting back to your work. He can’t help but look back at you as he leaves, something about you being the CEO, so pretty, powerful, leaves him smitten.

Obviously he knows he has no chance with you. You’d never go for someone like him anyway; you were older and in a different place in your life. He was struggling with college but he allows himself to dream.

After the first time, every time Bucky sees an order from your company, he insists on grabbing the order. If he’s the one making the food, he most definitely makes it the best thing you ever tasted. You found yourself ordering from there more, even when you weren’t particularly hungry. You adore his presence when he comes by, a blushing shy mess, always politely knocking before entering and always flustered when you tip him more than what he makes in his paycheck.

Sometimes he lingers around a little longer, wanting to see if you liked what he made; he doesn’t say anything but when your eyes roll back, moaning at how good the food is, he bites his lip, proud of himself for making you sound like that.

Eventually you both start talking.

He’s like a giddy school boy when you ask him how he’s doing; you can’t help but smile at the way he rambles on about school, assignments, his job. You casually ask about what he does outside of all that and the poor baby doesn’t have much else going on. No dates. No girlfriend. No way to release all that stress- ok stop. You mentally scold yourself, but your mind is in the gutter and it isn’t going anywhere else.

You can’t help but miss him when he leaves. He was sweet. Innocent. He always preened at your praise like a puppy, wanting to be so good for you. You actually enjoyed the conversations you had with him; he was so attentive when you spoke and he made you laugh. You felt less lonely when he was around. You realized you didn’t have time for dates, just like him. It wasn’t something you thought about often but it would have been nice to have someone to spend time with. Someone you could vent to when you were stressed. Someone to fuck you till you were thoughtless. Someone to hold you when everything was overwhelming.

Just like tonight.

You were stressed.

Tired.

You’d managed to take care of a few clients and settle some deals but you still had a pile of things to get to. You had 0 appetite yet you found yourself placing an order for waffles and ice cream, your go to comfort food. You impatiently waited for your order, knowing damn well it wasn’t the food you were looking forward to. You ordered often enough that Bucky had pieced together what mood you were in depending on what you got.

You were happy when you ordered a sandwich.

Probably a little grumpy when you ordered pasta.

There was a specific time in the month where you ordered a large slice of chocolate cake twice a day.

You always looked a little pouty and sad when you ordered waffles.

He was out the door as soon as he saw your number pop up. Bucky scolded himself as he made his way over, his heart shouldn’t be fluttering and he shouldn’t be this excited. He couldn’t hep the little crush he had on you, it was getting worse and harder to ignore. He nearly came in his pants the day he walked in on you leading a meeting, the firm tone of your voice made his cock jump. He watched you in awe, effortlessly closing a deal, taking long strides across the room in your heels. No matter how stressed or tired you were, fuck you were always so nice to him and if you gave him a chance he’d be such a good boy-

No.

You would laugh in his face.

He had no business thinking of you like that.

You deserved so much more.

You smiled hearing the soft knock at the door, instantly feeling a little better when Bucky walked in, his cheeks dusted pink as always, handing you your order.

“Thank you- You paused realizing you still didn’t know his name even though you’d spoken many times before “I see you so often, I might as well know your name”

“Bucky- um James but most people call me Bucky”

“That’s adorable”

Bucky blushed again, his heart jumping every so often as he glanced at you. It didn’t matter how the day was going, you always looked so gorgeous in your blazers and blouses. You always had the prettiest heels, nails perfectly painted. He loved the sound of your voice, the way it would switch up from soft and sweet with him and firm when you answered the phone.

He wasn’t sure when you shifted to sit on the desk, in front of him in your office, letting him sit down for a while as well, but he suddenly became aware of the scent of your perfume. The soft curve of your jaw. He found himself inching a little closer each time, his heart fluttering because you didn’t pull away. He got lost in talking to you, hardly noticing the time pass by until his eyes glanced at the clock, cursing under his breath when he realized he’d be late for work.

“You don’t have to rush back, y’know” You laughed, while Bucky scrambled to grab his things when he noticed the time. Just when you thought he couldn’t be sweeter, you saw how he sat closer and closer to you, his eyes sparkling every time you spoke. Sweet baby boy.

“I have another shift” He genuinely wanted to stay longer until he remembered his student loans and up coming rent.

“Just tell them you don’t feel well, here” You slid over a few bills, selfishly wanting him all to yourself, especially tonight. “Call in sick for tonight”

You knew it was probably wrong, but you couldn’t help it, you didn’t want him to leave just yet. Bucky’s eyes grew wide at the money you handed to him while you continued to poke at your waffle.

“I-this is more than I make in a month, I can’t-

“You can, honestly, its nothing. Please?” You gave him a sweet pout and he was ready to fold on the spot. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hide his crush for, if he stayed any longer he’d do something stupid. “Unless you don’t want to, its okay”

“No! I want to!” He moved even closer, scared to disappoint you, he’d never want to do that, which is exactly why he let his little secret slip out.

“I-I think you’re so pretty, I really really like you-” he blurted out, his eyes growing wide when he realized what he said. You couldn’t help but giggle at his confession, leaning a little so your legs brushed against his. You melted at his softness as he bit his lip nervously, still unsure if he should stay.

“Hmm, why are you nervous baby” You cooed, your thumb tracing over his bottom lip, red and swollen. He nearly whimpered at your words, he wanted to be your baby so bad but could he? “I like your company, that’s why I’m asking you to stay”

“I-I can’t give you what you deserve” Bucky shrugged, his shoulders slumped a little. He already couldn’t pay for college, there would be no way he’d be able to meet your standards. He’d never be able to take you out on a proper date or treat you like the queen you were. He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers; you wanted to take care of him so badly.

“I don’t need you to do that for me” You tilted his chin up to make him look at you again, his breaths shuddered. “I just..need..you”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide before he hesitantly leaned in, too scared to kiss you even though he wanted to so badly. You smirked, closing the gap between you both, softly pressing your lips against his. He whimpered, parting his lips, suddenly desperate for more. He carefully cupped your face, slowly pushing his tongue in, moaning when he felt your hands on his waist. You let him take control, his lips sucking and nipping on yours, his tongue tasting every bit of you.

He kissed you until he had to pull away for oxygen panting and dizzy, no blood in his head anymore, a thick outline of his cock straining against his sweats. Your hands trail down his chest, ghosting over his boner making him whimper.

“I’ll take care of you baby” You smiled, your fingers tracing the outline of his cock. His breath shudders, his cock throbs as you tease him, part of him is worried he’ll cum in his pants. He wants you to play with his cock, he really does but he just got a taste of your lips and now he wants more.

So much more.

“Can I taste you?” He whispers, dropping to his knees, desperate to feel your juices on his tongue “Please?”

“Shh I told you I’ll take care of you”

“P-please?” He shakes his head, his glassy eyes pleading with you.

How could you say no to such a sweet puppy.

“You want to baby?” You cup his cheek, your thumb caressing his skin softly. He nods, quickly pulling your skirt up and tossing off your panties. He parts your thighs, throwing them on his shoulders. He dives in immediately, sucking and licking up your arousal, his eyes rolling back at your slick on his tongue.

“F-fuck you taste good” His lips are glistening with your juices, his moans muffled as he drank as much as he could, savoring every bit of you. You gasped at the feeling of his mouth, his tongue deep in your entrance, greedy for more of your taste. His nose nudges your clit making it throb.

“S’good Bucky, fuck don’t stop” You moaned out and that’s all he needed to hear. He wasn’t planning on stopping. He started to flick his tongue on your clit, gazing up and you, loving the way you had your head thrown back, so fucking gorgeous spread out on your desk. Your hands carded through his soft locks making him whine, his lips sealing around your clit. “Oh fuck baby, just like that, doing so good for me baby, s’fucking good, m’so close”

He loved the way your clit felt on his tongue, suckling at it softly, while he pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock. You notice his moans are getting louder as he sucks on your clit, he’s overwhelmed with pleasure, fisting his cock while eating you like you’re his last meal.

“Fuck I’m cumming” You cried out, your thighs squeezing around his head while he played with your clit, groaning at the way your arousal poured out of you making a mess all over his face. His breaths are heavy, moaning while he keeps stroking himself.

“What is it baby?” You smirk when you see how desperate he looks, his shirt pulled up, the pink tip of his cock swollen and wet with precum.

“M’gonna cum” he whines out, stroking his cock on his knees, his chest heaving, eyes locked with yours. “Can I? Please?”

“Cum for me baby boy, show me how good boys cum”

That throws him off the edge as he cries out, ropes of cum splattering onto his abs, and dripping onto his hand. He’s shaky when he stands up, still panting, he’s never cummed that hard before.

“Come here, let me clean you up” You tug on his hand, grabbing a tissue, wiping his tummy, and the rest of him down. He’s never had anyone be so soft with him and he wants to curl up with you and cuddle so badly. He nuzzles himself against you and you coo at how soft he becomes. His body jolts as he tucks his cock back in, and you can’t help but pull him in, playing with his hair for a while. It starts to get late and you give him a quick kiss on his temple. He reluctantly pulls away, pouting a little.

“I’ll see you again soon?” You smile softly and he instantly lights up, already excited, nodding instantly. “I told you I’ll take care of you, okay?”

“Are-are you sure?” He doesn’t meet your eyes, playing with your fingers instead. “You don’t have to-

“Bucky look at me baby. I want to” You cup his cheek making him look at you. “I’m happy to as long as I get to see you” That makes him blush, unable to wrap his head around the fact that you want to see him and spend time with him.

“I’ll cover your shift for this month by the way” You give him a peck on his lips before he leaves, more flustered than ever. He nods vigorously, his heart beating out of his chest.

It’s a convenient arrangement. You take care of his needs while he takes care of yours. He loves spending his time with his face buried between your legs pulling the prettiest sounds out of you. You love the way he pours his heart and soul into pleasuring you, relieving your stress every single time.

Eventually he starts to come over to your place instead of coming by your office. At first, your both in the living room, making out like horny teenagers and you’ve waited long enough, you need more from him. His eyes grow wide when you pull him off the couch and drag him to your room.

Bucky is NOT inexperienced but something about being with you makes him feel like its his first time. He’s naked and spread out on the bed for you, his senses heightening to 100 seeing you naked for the first time. His cock is leaking against his tummy, throbbing as he hesitantly parts your legs, nudging against your entrance.

“Shh, just relax for me baby boy” You peck his lips softly, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. He moans to himself, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds, circling around your clit before pressing it against your entrance.

“You ready Jamie?” He nods, inching himself inside you closer, moaning as he feels your cunt suck his cock in.

“Oh-fuck-” His face is inches away from yours, cock already throbbing, the sounds leaving your mouth are not helping at all.

“Oh my god!” Your eyes roll back at the feeling of his thick length stretching you, gasping as he buries himself inside you. Your pussy clenches around him, your thighs squeezing around his waist, you’ve never felt so full “Yes, fuck yes”

“You’re-you’re so tight” He stutters as he starts to move, he can feel every inch of your silky walls hugging him. His body weight falls onto you, his cock feels so good he’s scared he’s going to cum in two strokes.

“You’re so big Jamie” You love the burn and pain with each thrust grazing his back as he starts to move faster. “Fuck your cock is so thick baby” The more you talk, the harder it is for him to control himself, he whimpering, snapping his hips into you, his balls hitting your ass. “Just like that baby boy, fuck me with your fat cock”

“Mommy” He whines out, not even registering what he just called you. All he knows is that he’s your baby boy, you take care of him, he’d do anything to make you feel good. You cry out for him as he hits your gspot. His hands come to move your hair away from your forehead, kissing your softly. “Is my cock too big mommy?”

“It’s perfect Jamie, hurts so good baby” You pull him in and kiss him deeply making his cock throb. He buries his face in your neck, his hands gripping your waist tightly because he doesn’t want to cum yet but it’s getting harder for him not to cum. “God I needed this so bad baby, stretch mommy’s pussy baby”

“I-I can’t hold it, it feels good” He pants, his pace starting to grow sloppy. He pulls away slightly, doing his best to focus on hitting your gspot, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Rub your clit mommy”

Your hand snakes down to play with your clit, the neediness of your sweet baby has you coming undone within seconds.

“F-fuck” The sounds you made already made him unable to focus but the sight of you touching yourself under him makes him lose control. “Oh fuck, play with it mommy, rub your clit hard for me”

You moan loudly, your pussy fluttering and sucking him in deeper and his body falls on you again.

“Mommy m’gonna cum” He groans, already dripping and making a mess in you with his precum. “Can I cum in you?” He wants to be greedy and give his perfect mommy his cum.

“Cum in me baby boy, be a good boy and cum in mommy” You coo, and he nearly sobs, cum shooting out of his cock, thick white streams filling your sopping cunt.

“Fuck m’your good boy” He cries out, he has no idea how he got so lucky getting to pump his thick load into you but he’s not going to waste a drop. He stays deep in your pussy until he’s emptied his balls. “Cumming so hard for you mommy”

He whines and whimpers, his hips rutting in you for as long as possible. He doesn’t even realize he falls asleep just like that, his face buried in your boobs, clinging onto you like a child. Your hands come down to caress his skin, letting him sleep for a while. You know he needs his release as badly as you do.

You spoil him. You spoil him because he deserves it. You spoil him because he’s so special to you. He’s too scared to tell you when he really does need something. He knows the rules, he has to tell you if there's something he needs, you told him that very clearly.

*****

You huff when you get his voice mail again, all of your text messages unanswered. When he comes by to your place, he knows hes in trouble because your frowning; mommy only frowns when he’s done something wrong.

“Baby, how come you didn’t answer your phone”

He’s too scared to tell you he couldn't pay his bill on time and he didn’t want to trouble you. Now he’s even more upset with himself because you were trying to call him and he didn’t even know.

“I-I couldn't pay my bill” He mumbles, looking down, not meeting your eyes. You soften a little, cupping his face, making him look at you.

“You should have just told me Bucky, I would have taken care of it. Just let me cover your phone bill bubba”

“No!- I can pay for it, it’s too much-” You already do so much for him, he doesn’t want to be greedy.

“I want to be able to call you when I want. It’s not a big deal. I want to take care of you, okay?” You pull him up to your room, giving him a soft kiss before looking at him sternly.

“Now...” You grasp his cheeks making his lips pout “I should punish you baby” His heart jumps at the thought, his cock already hard. “I was worried about you bubba, not answering your phone all day” You take him apart over and over again, your tongue toying and licking his cock up and down leaving him a whining and whimpering mess.

Your arrangement with him continues. He hardly has to work because you’ve covered that for him. You’ve gotten him a better phone, a better laptop, you’ve paid for his semesters in school. Bucky loves all that you do for him but he wishes he could tell you he likes you for more than how you take care of him.

He makes his way over to your place, excited as always, ignoring his feelings. He’s happy to make you come apart and destress you but he’s ready to be there for everything else too. It makes his stomach churn because he knows you probably don’t feel the same way.

When he knocks on your door, he’s greeted by one of your house keepers which surprises him because you normally answer. He’s told your still working upstairs; he makes his way up to your room.

You looked tired. Your blazer was thrown on the side of your desk, a few buttons opened at the top, your glasses tossed aside. You have bags under your eyes, papers scattered around.

“Hi baby” You smiled as Bucky walked into your office room, his heart sinking seeing you so overworked.

“Are you okay” He frowns as he nears you, coming by your desk, tucking some hair away from your face. You lean into his touch, all your energy drained. He cocks his head as you close your laptop, his hand still gently grazing against your scalp.

“I’m just tired tonight Bucky” You close your eyes while sitting in your chair and he doesn’t like it. You always look after him and he wants to do the same.

“Can-can I take care of you?” He whispered, his heart beating out of his chest. He was so used to you telling him what he had to do but you looked so tired and he wanted to do something for you instead. He knew what you needed. You nodded, squealing when he effortlessly lifted you into his arms, carrying you over to your bedroom.

He set you down onto your bed, carefully taking all your clothes before stripping all of his off. Before you could say anything, he pulled the covers back, crawling into bed and pulling you to lay with him. Bucky held you to his chest, gently stroking your spine with firm fingers, his other hand carding through your hair. He massaged your scalp, smiling when he felt your muscles relax, melting into his touch.

You can’t help but feel your eyes sting a little. No one had ever been so soft and gentle with you. Bucky always made sure he took care of your body, your soul. Your heart craved him more, his sweetness, his kindness, his affection. You then reminded yourself that he still probably wanted to experience things and being tied down to you was not part of his plans.

You just had to enjoy the time you had with him for what it was.

“Are you feeling okay?” He hugs you tighter, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“M’sorry bubba, so tired” You mumbled against his skin, sighing contently when he continued to massage your body, hesitantly pressing a kiss onto your forehead. He cuddled and massaged your body, loving the way you felt in his arms. His beautiful pretty mommy cuddled up with him.

He realizes he wants this all the time, the feeling of your soft skin with his, the sweetness of your vice. Your wrapped up with him under the blankets and you can feel his heart beating out of his chest as he stutters.

“I-I like you” You look at him while he bites his lip nervously; fuck what if you kicked him out.

“I like you too Bucky” you smiled, kissing the dimple on his chin. He relaxes slightly but it’s not good enough. He wanted more. More with you. To have you. Just for him.

“I want to be yours...always” He whispers the last part, peeking at you through his lashes, worried he might have just ruined everything.

Of course he hasn’t.

You can’t help the way your heart flutters, melting against him letting your arms wrap around his body. You adored him with your entire being the same way he adored you.

“You already are baby” You smile against his skin, kissing his chest. “You’re always going to me mine”

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meatyarms · 10 months

Text

˗ˏˋᴊᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ´ˎ˗

ּ Modern Protective Sevika x Gamer gf ּ 1,388

ּ This Sev is imbued by jealousy and built a protective bubble of her own around you the instant ya’ll’s eyes locked through the gym building’s glass walls— missed her grip on the dumbbells she was pressing in that same second and almost lost her head to it, quickly put it away and pulled up her number from her phone all shaky. Sweaty and panting profusely, walked up closer and pressed the screen against the glass for you to record.

ּּ Mouthing ‘call me’ from the other side, and you two became a thing since.

ּ You were foaming at her impressive scales, glossy spherical deltoids embellished both ends of her shoulders adding unfathomable broadness that they closed in on you when you stood before the glass.

ּ Biceps corresponded to her size naturally, it was as if they were excellently moulded into something so rich. You couldn’t believe how perfect of a catch she was, kinda disclosed it when you stumbled on your way to her with a face of utter bewilderment. You both agreed never to mention it again, her less than you.

ּ Would always be the one to come to your place, treats it like her own. Checks out all the systems if they were working properly, kitchen cabinets and fridge if they needed refilling, doors and windows to ensure that they all had secure locks on them.

ּ Who’d iterate to dial her should you need anything at all, replacing all emergency numbers from your head with hers, doesn’t want no stranger wandering in your place. Not while she’s living and breathing.

ּ Will master pipework, roofing, carpentry and whatever else she needs to on the road going over to fix your house issues. And she’d look good doing it.

ּ Flaunting her hard-earned abs and lifting her shirt to wipe off the sweat on her forehead as she takes care of your repair problems, or putting on a flowy tank top that would do more revealing than any typa covering every time she bends down to grab something.

ּ “Could ya get me some water, sweetheart?… baby?”,,

ּ And whatever wooing plan she’s plotting, it’s working like a charm cuz you'd be hypnotized and lost.

ּ “OH uh, yes of course!”,,

ּ You end up gay panicking like hell, not looking her in the eyes when you give her the ok to shower at your place. She just wishes she could see your face during it all but she has to act collected for show.

ּ She’d never let you walk or drive anywhere, not on your own, specially to her place. Would drive you there instead, and like everywhere else, giving you the chauffeur experience. Just as long as you’re safe and in her vicinity where she can keep an eye on you.

ּ “Morning baby 💞”, “When do you wanna come over today?🥰🥰”,,

ּ You’d be the only change she’d have had in a long time. Where she used to go from home to gym and vice versa, now she’d be speeding to your doorstep at any notification from you.

ּ “Open door🚪”,,

ּ This one’s old fashioned, would much rather like her daily engagements to be physical and face-to-face than virtual, isn’t quite acquainted with new technology. The phone resides in her pockets all day and is only pulled out if she needed to contact someone, it’d be for occasional convenience and not something she spends more than two minutes on at a time.

ּ Always texts you in the simplest form possible, with the least combination of words needed to get a point across. Hasn’t stopped using the ‘little drawings’ once you introduced them to her, definitely adds more life to her brief responses.

ּ “Want 🥤?”, “Want diner dinosaur ndj,. ?hel,p,. 🍽️🍲 ?”,,

ּ Not as dexterous on the keyboard as she is with gym equipment, her fingers wouldn’t know where to go and ends up typing using solely her index while she holds the phone up with the other hand.

ּ And when she first saw your whole gaming set? Oof, she really thought it was a goddamn Time Machine or something.

ּ “All that.. to play games?”, “Sure you’re not sending a rocket to space with that?”,,

ּ Who’d sit in the back and watch you play with people, eyes transfixed on the large screens you’re so immersed in, squinting heedfully. Why? Well, she heard a male voice through your speakers.

ּ Didn’t take it too well, would always be hostile in situations like this. Suspicion would arise but not with you, with the men.

ּ “Room? Why is he inviting you to a disc lord room?”, “Okay, well, does he know that you have a girlfriend in your actual room right now? I mean, shouldn’t I meet this guy first??”,,

ּ She can’t grasp how easily people would be doling out their trust in the online world, and when she watches you endlessly ramble and play with new ‘friends’ every single day it builds up a more aggressive outburst which she blows over in the gym later on.

ּ Or sometimes, a dark little place under your busy desk. She’d make it impossible for you to talk to your so called ‘game friends’ with her tongue twisting deep in your cunt, forcing you to go on mute mode or just end the call altogether.

ּ One of the reasons you no longer open up the cam when she’s around— always. The idea of those guy friends taking more than an ounce of your attention riles her up.

ּ Often times she’d be in a mood and just fucks you with her mouth right in the middle of a darn convo. You’d see her drop to her knees then start crawling from your periphery and your hands dart on her head, retaining her from getting into that little space.

ּ She’d easily clasp your wrists together and use them to push your seated body steering the swivel chair however she wants, her free hand pulls your pants down and you to her then she pops her head in.

ּ You’re not about to fight her and mess up your image in front of everyone when she straight up chair-fucks you- her idea of fighting you back- but you sure as hell won’t be spilling your dumb grumbles all over this server either. You simply retreat.

ּ “Uhh- *whispers* fuck Sev* guys, I’m gonna.. have to end the cal- ‘eres uh another call I gotta ma-“ *end call*,,

ּ Would instantly emerge from the shadows like a frikkin’ lurker and fuck you wild.

ּ Grabs you by your knees and lifts your legs over her shoulders, you’d completely sink into the chair’s seat and your feet buckle around her neck holding you steady alone. All the while she’s unbuttoning her trousers uncovering a long bulge fastened to her crotch— She’s been wanting it since she first opened her eyes that day, hours of random voices on the other line calling out your name was the trigger point.

ּ Feeling angry and deserted, she shoves the whole thing in giving your cunt not a moment of prep. Your organs brutally invaded, forced to make way for the toy while being clamped together in the most unhealthy position imaginable.

ּ “C’mon baby, let em’ hear how fucked up you are by my dick”, “D’you want it, princess? Huh? Tell em’, tell em’ how much you want it.”,,

ּ No one’s listening, but she takes thrill from pretending otherwise, to picture your foe ‘friends’ being ditched by you cuz of her is extremely pleasurable to Sev. In the heat of the moment, you play along with it too.

ּ “Fuck a- I- I want it fffff.. plEASE..”,,

ּ Just as you feel your spinal cord dislocating in her thrusts, sturdy arms creep around your back picking you up and throwing you on the bed. The night would’ve only begun from there, finishes with you stammering her name to your dreams.

ּ She’d get an overpowering pump of superiority when your lips quiver doing their best to call for her even though you’re dead beat, unsure of what you know anymore. It makes her entire week.

ּ “Yeah.. that’s right.. I’m right here, baby.”, “Only one you need.”,,

ּ There may be a conflict in the usage and understanding of technology between the pair of you, but this baby wouldn’t let something so trivial prevent her from safeguarding you. Be it from the physical world or one through a screen, she’ll watch out for you always.

,,,

ּ Tried to make this as accurate as I can with my infinitesimal knowledge of gaming and Discord. Could've made her tech savvy but I thought this was more realistic for a middle-aged here & now, plus it's cute!

ּ Thanks for reading! ♡♡ Any & all support is appreciated, asks about whichever one of my Sevikas are welcome ( ˊᵕˋ )

#sugar mommy vibes with this one #б（＞ε＜）∂#protectivegamergf!sevika #modern!sevika #arcane sevika #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika fanfic #sevika imagine #sevika smut #sevika x reader #sevika x you #lesbian brainrot #lesbian #saphhic #wlw smut #wlw #happy pride 🌈#MeatysJottings

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