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pucksandpower · 22 days

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Lover

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the little (and not so little) ways that you and Charles show your love for each other

You’re in the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you listen intently to Charles’ mother give you her famous tiramisu recipe step-by-step. “Now, this next part is very important,” she stresses. “You’ll need one cup of granulated sugar to add to the mascarpone filling.”

“Got it, one cup sugar for the filling,” you confirm.

Pascale chuckles warmly. “I’m so glad Charles has found such a lovely girl who wants to learn my recipes. He’s always loved my tiramisu since he was a little boy.”

You smile, touched by her kind words. You and Charles have been together for a year now, but it still makes your heart flutter to be so accepted into his close-knit family.

“It means so much to me that you’re sharing this recipe with me,” you tell Pascale sincerely.

You chat with her a while longer, going over some of the trickier steps and getting tips on how to best soak the ladyfingers. Finally, you have the full recipe memorized and are ready to give it a try.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it now. Thank you so much again, Pascale! I really appreciate you taking the time to walk me through this.”

“Of course, chère! Let me know how it turns out. Charles is a lucky man to have such a thoughtful girlfriend,” Pascale says warmly before hanging up.

You grin, eager to get started. You know tiramisu is Charles’ absolute favorite dessert and you want to surprise him with a homemade version tonight after he finally comes back from his latest race.

Humming to yourself, you gather the ingredients — mascarpone, eggs, espresso, cocoa powder, and of course, the sugar. You double check you have everything and preheat the oven so the ladyfingers will be perfect.

As you start the recipe, you feel a rush of excitement. You follow each step meticulously, Pascale’s voice guiding you in your mind. You carefully separate the eggs and beat the whites to stiff peaks. When it’s time to add the sugar to the mascarpone filling, you pause.

Now, which one was the sugar again? You look between the two identical jars of white powder, second-guessing yourself.

Shoot, you should have labeled them.

After a moment of hesitation, you decide on the bowl on the left. Yes, that must be sugar, you reassure yourself. You mix it into the silky mascarpone filling until it’s perfectly combined. Once assembled, you spread the filling over the ladyfingers and cover it with a final dusting of cocoa powder.

It looks absolutely beautiful. You did it! You made Charles’ favorite dessert completely from scratch. You can’t wait to see the look on his face when he takes the first delicious bite.

You glance at the clock as you clean up. Charles will be home soon. You carefully store the tiramisu in the fridge to chill until after dinner.

Right on time, you hear Charles’ keys in the lock. You hurry to greet him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “I missed you!”

He grins and nuzzles your neck. “And I missed you, ma belle.”

Over dinner on the balcony, Charles tells you all about the race and his ambitious one-stop strategy under the Suzuka cherry blossoms. You listen attentively, asking questions and laughing at his dramatic reenactments.

Finally, it’s time for dessert. “I have a surprise for you,” you say with a playful smile.

Charles’ eyes light up. “Oh really? Do tell!”

You bring the chilled tiramisu to the table, along with two small plates and forks. “Ta-da! I made your favorite, with your mom’s secret recipe.”

“No way, you’re kidding!” Charles exclaims. He takes in the layered dessert with delight. “It looks incredible, mon cœur. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

You blush happily as you dish out servings for both of you. “I hope I did it justice. Your mom walked me through the whole thing over the phone.”

Charles takes a big eager bite, closing his eyes as he savors it. “Mmm … it’s absolutely delicious,” he declares after swallowing. “Seriously, this is amazing. Here, you have to try it!”

He holds out a forkful toward you. You accept it into your mouth, immediately bursting into incredulous laughter. “Oh my god, this is so salty! I definitely screwed up somewhere. You don’t have to eat it!”

But Charles just grins and takes another hearty bite. “What do you mean? It tastes perfect to me.”

You stare at him in confusion. “You can’t actually like this, Charles. It’s like I poured the entire salt shaker in by accident.”

“No no, it’s great! The best tiramisu I’ve ever had,” he insists. Seeing your disbelief, he takes your hand from across the table. “Really, Y/N. I love it because you made it just for me. With love. That’s what makes it so special.”

You feel your insides turn soft and melty at his words. “You’re just saying that to be nice,” you protest weakly.

He shakes his head. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Because ...” He pauses, looking into your eyes sincerely. “Because I’m completely in love with you, mon amour. I’d eat a thousand salty tiramisus if it made you smile like this.”

You can’t help the joyful laugh that escapes you. “You’re such a hopeless romantic, you know that?” You tease him.

“Only for you,” he flirts back with a playful wink.

You lean across the table to kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, the adoration shining in his green eyes leaves you breathless.

Maybe he’s right. It doesn’t matter that the tiramisu is an utter fail. All that matters is that you made it with love.

And that’s the sweetest taste of all.

***

It’s been a few weeks since your salty tiramisu mishap. You and Charles laughed about it afterwards, but you were still determined to make him something special with your own two hands.

So you decided to take up crocheting. It was trickier than you expected, but you persevered, watching YouTube tutorials and getting tangled in yarn for hours.

Finally, after a month of work, you’ve produced your first wearable creation — a sweater for Charles.

It’s an oversized style, cream colored with red racing stripes across the chest. You did your best to evenly stitch the rows, but there are gaps in some places that cause the stripes to waver drunkenly.

The sleeves are several inches too long, dangling adorably over Charles’ hands when he tries it on. And the neckline gapes open no matter how he tugs it.

But none of the flaws matter to Charles. His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning when you present it to him.

“You made this? For me?” He asks as he eagerly pulls it on.

You nod, suddenly shy. “I wanted to make something special for you, even if my skills are still .... developing,” you admit with an embarrassed chuckle.

But Charles is beaming, admiring himself in the mirror. “It’s perfect! Seriously, I love it. This is the best gift ever!”

He engulfs you in a big hug, sleeves flopping over you. You hug him back, relieved and happy he appreciates your efforts.

From that day on, Charles insists on wearing the sweater constantly, even styling it with whatever eclectic pants he decides to wear on race weekends.

You try to discourage him — the holes along the hem are getting bigger from snagging and the neckline is truly unsalvageable.

But Charles won’t hear it. “Are you kidding? This is my new lucky charm!” He declares. “I have to wear it for every race now.”

Sure enough, he starts a winning streak whenever he dons your handmade sweater, even though it’s quite a departure from the fitted shirts and designer hoodies he previously favored, leaving his fans scratching their heads at the sudden change.

You watch in amused endearment as he proudly wears your gift for candid pre-race interviews and photo-ops. The overlong sleeves just make his exuberant gestures even more adorable.

Finally, a reporter works up the courage to ask him about the quirky sweater. “That’s quite a statement piece you have been arriving in each Sunday,” the reporter comments during a press conference. “What made you decide to wear it?”

Charles’ face lights up even more. “My sweater? It was handmade for me by my incredible girlfriend,” he announces, making you blush furiously from the audience.

“She worked so hard on it, even though crocheting is totally new to her. So I wear it to show how much I appreciate her and how talented she is,” he continues sincerely.

The reporters “aww” as Charles shows off the uneven stitches like they’re couture. “It’s my good luck charm now too! She put so much love into making it that I feel like I can’t lose whenever I have it on.”

He looks directly at you, eyes shining. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received, because she made it just for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be with someone so thoughtful and caring.”

You have to wipe away joyful tears at his heartfelt words. You never imagined your clumsy crocheting would come to mean so much to him.

But Charles wears that sweater for every race, no matter how tattered it gets. Because for him, it represents something priceless — your love.

***

You hum along to the radio as you stir the melted chocolate in a bowl. The rich aroma fills the air of your shared apartment. Today is Valentine’s Day and you want to surprise your boyfriend with homemade chocolate-covered strawberries when he gets home from training.

You dip the first plump, red strawberry into the silky chocolate, letting the excess drip off before placing it gently onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. One by one, you coat each strawberry, taking care to fully submerge them.

When the tray is full, you quickly pop one glistening strawberry into your mouth and slide the rest into the fridge to let the chocolate harden. As you wait, you tidy up the kitchen, washing the bowls and utensils used to make the treat. A glance at the clock on the microwave tells you Charles will be home soon.

The sound of the front door opening makes you grin. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls out.

You grab the tray of chocolate-covered strawberries and head towards his voice. “Welcome home! I have a surprise for y-”

You stop short, your throat suddenly feeling scratchy and tight. Your lips tingle oddly.

Confused, you lift a hand to your neck. Is this just excitement to see Charles? But no, your tongue is starting to swell now too. Your breathing becomes labored.

Charles rounds the corner. “Mon ange, what’s wro-” His eyes widen as he takes in your distress. In a few quick strides he is by your side, the tray clattering forgotten to the floor. “What’s happening?”

You wheeze, barely able to force out words. “Can’t … breathe …”

Charles sweeps you into his arms and runs for the front door. “Hospital. Now.”

You cling to him, each ragged breath a struggle. The world seems to blur and tilt alarmingly.

Then somehow you’re in Charles’ car, speeding down the street. One of his hands grips the wheel while the other clutches yours tightly. “Just hold on, stay with me. We’re almost there.”

You try to respond but only manage a choked gurgle. Black spots swim across your vision. A feeling of detachment steals over you.

The car screeches to a stop outside the emergency department entrance. Charles lifts you from the passenger seat, calling for help. There is a flurry of activity as a team of doctors and nurses rushes over with a gurney.

You are barely aware of being wheeled into an exam room, too focused on trying to pull air into your lungs. A mask is fitted over your face, dispensing blessed oxygen. An IV is inserted into your arm.

The medical staff works quickly, asking Charles questions as they begin treatment. Antihistamines. Steroids. Epinephrine. The medications slowly start to counteract your reaction. The vice-like tightness in your chest and throat gradually lessens.

After what feels like an eternity, you are able to take full breaths again. The room comes back into focus, no longer spinning. Charles sits at your bedside, clutching your hand, his handsome face creased with worry.

The doctor examines you, nodding with satisfaction as your symptoms continue to improve. “It appears you had a severe allergic reaction. We’ll run some tests to determine the cause.”

Charles looks stricken. “But how? What could have possibly …” His gaze falls on your swollen lips. “The strawberries,” he whispers.

You nod weakly. It had to have been. You’ve never reacted to them before, but an allergy can develop at any time.

Charles smoothes back your hair, distress pouring off of him. “I’m so sorry, mon cœur. I should have been there with you.”

You squeeze his hand. “You couldn’t have known. I’m okay now thanks to you.”

He just shakes his head, unconvinced.

The testing confirms it — you are now mysteriously allergic to strawberries. The doctor gives you an EpiPen prescription and strict instructions to the fruit in the future.

After several more hours of observation, you are finally discharged from the hospital with an exhausted Charles supporting you.

The sun has long since set on what was supposed to have been a romantic Valentine’s Day. Instead, you spent it swollen and terrified in the ER.

Back home, Charles tucks you into bed, insisting you rest. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror — puffy-faced and red-eyed — and cringe. Some Valentine you turned out to be.

You reach for Charles’ hand again. “I’m so sorry I ruined our evening. I wanted it to be perfect but instead I ended up scaring you half to death and forcing you to rush me to the hospital.”

Charles silences you with a gentle kiss. “Not another word, mon amour. You have nothing to apologize for. All that matters is that you are safe.”

He caresses your cheek, looking at you with such love and tenderness it makes your heart ache. “You could never ruin anything. You are the light of my life — my everything. No Valentine’s Day is complete without you.”

You feel yourself tearing up. Even after the ordeal of this evening, he still looks at you like you hung the moon.

“You’re still the most beautiful Valentine I’ve ever had, you know that? A little swelling can’t hide that.” Charles brushes away your tears and pulls you close. “Rest now. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You nestle into his embrace, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat soothe you. As you drift off, you can’t help but marvel at how lucky you are to have this man. Even at your puffiest and most distressed, he thinks you’re beautiful.

No matter what surprises life throws at you, with Charles by your side you know everything will be okay. He loves you unconditionally — swollen lips, hospital visits, and all.

***

“Close your eyes,” you say to Charles as you lead him into the living room.

He laughs and covers his eyes with his hands. “What are you up to, mon amour?”

You grin, though he cannot see it. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

You guide him across the room, hands on his shoulders. He shuffles along, peeking through his fingers.

“No peeking!” You scold, and he squeezes his eyes shut again, smiling.

You position him in front of the coffee table. “Okay,” you say. “You can open your eyes now.”

Charles drops his hands. On the table sits a large gift-wrapped box with a massive red bow on top. His eyes go wide with surprise and delight.

“For me?”

You nod, bouncing on your toes excitedly. “Happy birthday!”

He pulls you into a tight hug. “You are too good to me, ma belle. Thank you.” Leaning down, he captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You swat his shoulder playfully. “You don’t even know what it is yet! Open it.”

Charles grins and turns his attention to the present. He carefully unties the bow and lifts the lid on the box. Inside sits a sleek red bomber jacket with the Ferrari logo embroidered on the chest. He runs his fingers over the leather appreciatively.

“This is beautiful,” he murmurs.

“Look on the back,” you prompt.

Charles turns the jacket over. Across the back, in bold white letters, it reads: DADDY.

His eyes go wide again, and for a moment he just stands there gaping at the jacket. Then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor in a dead faint.

“Charles!” You rush to his side, kneeling next to him on the plush carpet. Gently you pat his cheek, trying to rouse him. “Charles, wake up!”

After a few tense moments, his eyelashes begin to flutter. You breathe a sigh of relief as he opens his eyes.

“Wha … what happened?” He mumbles.

“You fainted, silly.”

You help him sit up slowly. He puts a hand to his head, still looking dazed.

“I had the strangest dream …” He trails off, glancing around the room. His gaze lands on the jacket lying nearby, and his eyes widen again.

“It wasn’t a dream,” you say softly.

Charles looks at you, lips parted in shock. “Then you … you’re …”

You furrow your brow in confusion. “I’m what?”

“Pregnant!” He exclaims. “We’re having a baby!”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide. “What? No! I’m not pregnant!”

Charles frowns, thoroughly bewildered. “But the jacket said … I thought it was your way of telling me we’re expecting.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh my goodness, no. The jacket is for a very different reason.”

He looks almost disappointed. “It is?”

You take his hands in yours. “I know you’ve been talking about getting a dog for months now, ever since you met Mimi.”

Comprehension begins to dawn on Charles’s face. “So the jacket …”

“Is for our new puppy!” You finish excitedly.

Charles’ face lights up. “You got me a dog? Really?”

You nod, grinning. “Really! I picked him up yesterday from the shelter. He’s the cutest little dachshund, white with brown spots. I’ve been keeping him at your brother’s so I could surprise you today.”

Charles whoops and tackles you in another ecstatic hug. You laugh as he covers your face in rapid, smacking kisses.

“This is the best birthday surprise ever!” He crows. “I can’t believe we’re finally getting a dog. And the jacket — it’s perfect!”

He grabs the bomber and shrugs it on over his t-shirt. It fits him flawlessly, the white lettering bold against the red.

Charles scrambles to his feet and rushes to the nearest mirror, twisting this way and that to admire himself. “I love it! Thank you, thank you!”

You stand and wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m so glad. But you should really be thanking your new baby boy.”

Charles turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best girlfriend in the world?”

You grin up at him. “Hmm, I don’t recall. Feel free to remind me.”

“You …” He punctuates each word with a kiss. “Are …” kiss “The …” kiss “Most …” kiss “Thoughtful …” kiss “Loving …” kiss “Girlfriend …” kiss “In …” kiss “The …” kiss “World.”

You pretend to swoon. “My, what a sweet talker you are.”

He chuckles and kisses you tenderly. When you break apart, his eyes are shining.

“So when do I get to meet our new baby?” He asks eagerly.

“Right now, if you want,” you say. “We can go pick him up from Lorenzo.”

Charles pumps a fist in the air. “Yes! I’m going to be the best dog dad ever, just you wait and see.” He crouches down and coos, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?”

You pat his head playfully. “You’re a good boy.”

Taking your hand, he practically drags you out the door, babbling excitedly about names, beds, toys, and treats for the puppy the whole way to the car. Your heart swells watching his enthusiasm. You know that dog is going to be the most loved and cared for pup in the world.

When you arrive at his brother’s apartment, Charles bounds up to the front door ahead of you, unable to contain his excitement. Lorenzo opens it laughing, the wiggling brown and white puppy in his arms.

“Someone’s here to see you!” He says, handing the squirming bundle of fluff to Charles.

“Hello, hello!” Charles cuddles the puppy to his chest, his whole face alight with pure joy. The pup responds by licking every inch of Charles’ face he can reach.

Charles laughs delightedly. “Aren’t you just the sweetest boy? Yes you are!”

He looks up at you, eyes shining. “Thank you, mon cœur. This is the best gift I could have asked for.”

You lean in and scratch the puppy behind his silky ears. “Of course. Happy birthday, my love.”

As you walk back to the car, Charles cradling the puppy like a newborn, you know in your heart that your little family is one step closer to completion.

***

The race weekend after Charles’ birthday feels strange. As you wander through the Ferrari garage during free practice, Fred rushes over looking concerned.

“Here, take a seat,” the team principal says, grabbing a folding chair and positioning it behind you. “You should not be on your feet so much in your condition.”

You frown in confusion. “What condition?”

But the French man has already hurried away. Shaking your head, you continue walking. It’s a few minutes later that you spot Pierre.

“Hey!” He says, jogging up to you. Before you can react, he places both hands on your stomach and smiles brightly. “Wow, it’s hard to believe that little baby Leclerc is in there! I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew.”

Now you’re really bewildered. You take a small step back from Pierre’s wandering hands. “What are you talking about? I’m not pregnant!”

Pierre laughs. “Very funny. You don’t have to hide it from me.” He winks and walks away.

When Charles finds you later, you’re still puzzling over the strange encounter.

“Everyone is acting so weird,” you tell him, explaining what’s been happening all day. "It’s like they all think I’m pregnant or something."

Charles frowns. “That is odd. Where would they get that idea?”

You shake your head. “I have no idea …”

Later, after the last practice session of the day, you wander into Ferrari hospitality for a quick cup of coffee. Carlos quickly spots you and makes a beeline over, cheeks flushed with excitement.

“I just saw the photos of Charles wearing his new jacket.” He says. “A mini Leclerc on the way, how wonderful! Congratulations to you both.”

“What? No, there’s no …” you start to protest, but Carlos is already walking away.

Charles comes up beside you, having overheard. “This is getting out of hand,” he mutters. “We need to clear this up.”

“I know!” You say. “I feel bad, they all seem so excited. They must think we’re hiding a pregnancy from them.”

An idea comes to you then. Turning to Charles, you say loudly, “Honey, why don’t we go introduce the baby to everyone? I know they’re all just dying to meet him!”

Charles catches on immediately, smiling slyly. “Of course! Let’s go get our little one right now.”

You nod, linking your arm through his. As you walk away, you hear gasps and murmurs behind you.

“They already had the baby? When did this happen?”

“I can’t believe they’ve been hiding it all this time!”

You have to stifle a laugh. Charles grins and squeezes your hand.

In his driver’s room, your puppy is napping contentedly on a plush dog bed. Charles scoops him up gently so as not to wake him. Cradling the pup, you both head back out to the hospitality suite.

Everyone turns to look at you eagerly as you enter. Carlos steps forward, craning his neck to see the bundle in Charles’ arms.

“Here he is!” You announce proudly. “Our baby boy!”

Charles turns so they can see the sleeping dachshund nestled against his bomber jacket. A shocked silence falls over the room.

“Wha … that’s not a baby!” Carlos splutters. “That’s a dog!”

You and Charles just shrug with matching sly smiles. “He’s our baby.”

As the puppy yawns and stretches in Charles’ arms, licking his chin affectionately, you know with certainty that your furry new addition will be showered with just as much love and adoration as you both share for one another.

Who could ask for anything more?

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effervescentcvnt · 1 month

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the protector of the forest - part 2

first part can be found here: part 1

cw: dubcon, dendrophilia

the plant begins by undressing you, and you hear the sound of fabric tearing. as your sensitive skin is slowly exposed, the plant pets you almost reverently all over your body, exploring it slowly. the appendages stroke your chest, your lips, even your ears and tickle your sides up and down until you giggle. the tendrils touch your thighs, inching ever closer to where you need to be touched the most. the plant is learning which spots on your body are the sweetest, teasing you until you can't help but whimper. it wraps itself all around you, one tendril even going around your throat, not really squeezing yet.

good, dear one. let me hear your pretty noises.

it takes particular interest in your nipples, rubbing and toying with them until they're hardened and aching. you're becoming needier, unable to hold back your moans, your noises filling the otherwise silent clearing. still, the plant has not even touched your cunt, and you’re already dripping thanks to the aphrodisiacs and the plant’s soft touches.

"oh gods-! touch my pussy, i need it so bad!” you whine.

beg for it.

“please please please- oh, touch my cunt, please, i need to be fucked!” you plead as your clit and hole ache to be used.

good pet.

then, one of the many thicker appendages finally reaches out to flick at your swollen, anguished clit before pushing into your soaked hole. it goes in inch by tantalising inch, spreading you wide open until it reaches the deepest part of you, pressing against that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. the tendril is girthy enough to fill you up perfectly, and it’s covered in small bumps that massage your soft walls exquisitely, making you writhe in ecstasy as it starts thrusting in and out of your gushing hole. you might have thought that being stimulated would help lessen the needy ache caused by the pollen but instead it becomes even more intense; it feels as though you are three times more sensitive than before, and your nerves sing in delight. you buck your hips and try to grind down on the vine, encouraging the plant to fuck you harder.

two smaller vines approach your clit, pinching it inbetween them, nearly making you scream. they knead your needy bud as your hole pulses. another tendril forces itself in your mouth, secreting a sweet, honey-like fluid, and you suckle on it enthusiastically without thinking twice. the liquid flows down your throat, warming you from the inside. as the plant sets a ruthless pace, pounding your cunt, you rapidly reach your peak. you howl in agonising pleasure; the orgasm is so strong it nearly makes you black out. the liquid you swallowed must’ve been another aphrodisiac because you immediately crave more despite not even having recovered from your first climax.

the two tendrils rubbing at your clit retreat as another vine with a small cup at the end latches onto your clit and begins sucking at it when the brutal fucking continues. when your second orgasm approaches, you realise that this one will be different, and before you can do or say anything, squirt sprays out of you, drenching your thighs and the vines below.

well done, darling. give me all you’ve got.

obscene wet noises echo through the clearing as the plant has its way with you. thin vines swat your ass, the sharp sting only adding to your pleasure. orgasm after orgasm crashes over you as your mind spins and you lose yourself entirely to the overwhelming sensations. you have no control over your body anymore - you can only submit to the whims of the plant. you have lost track of time; you might have been there for hours with no breaks.

"i- i can't cum again... please don't make me..."

shhh, i know you can, little mortal. just one more time.

you are completely at the mercy of the ancient plant, a mindless doll with a single purpose: to feed the god of the forest with your body. there is nothing you can do as yet another climax tears through you. the sun is already setting when the plant finally releases you; the tendril slides out of your pussy, and the vine that was wrapped around your neck pets your cheek affectionately.

i am ever so grateful. you did well.

you cannot form words, but press a kiss on one of the vines. you slowly begin to notice the state you’re in: covered in pollen from head to toe, clothes torn in shreds, ass red and burning from the whipping, slick dripping down your thighs. how the hell are you supposed to explain this to your fellow adventurers? still, as you start making your way towards your camp, you feel wonderfully relaxed - just not in a way you had expected.

// i hope you enjoyed reading this!! i certainly enjoyed writing it bc i was edging myself the whole time and now i'm absolutely soaked

#queer nsft #nonbinary nsft #ns/fw #trans nsft #monster fucker #terat0philliac #monster smut #cnc k!nk #teratophillia #terato #cnc overstim #cl!t overstim #cnc free use #dendrophilia #dendro #fr33use

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gglitch1dd · 2 months

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Valentines Day with Izuku

Midoriya Izuku x Reader

You spend your valentines day with your loving husband.

A/N: A gift from Glitch1d. This was sitting in my drafts and I just needed to tailor it to Valentines day. I hope yall love this little rare gift from me. I'm doing better health wise btw. Thank you for all the wishes.

Warning: NSFW, Smut, female reader, blowjob, rough sex.

Your eyes opened slowly, your mind feeling groggy as you woke up. Your body felt heavy and you still felt that you could sleep another two hours. You looked over behind you to where your husband was supposed to be but wasn’t. You reached a hand out to the empty space with a sad smile. He had told you that today he would have to work in the morning and into the early afternoon but he would be back later. You often missed him. You loved waking up to his warm embrace and gentle kisses and just his overall presence.

You vaguely remember waking up when he left but you couldn’t remember a thing of what you said or what he had said. You shook your head probably not finding anything important enough to remember.

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, grabbing your phone from your desk, but that’s when you paused. You noticed something red peaking from the side of the bed.

That’s when you realised that you were surrounded by roses. Your eyes widened as a gasp left your mouth. Hundreds of crimson roses littered the floor. There was a path allowing you to the bathroom and out of the room as well as to your closet but otherwise, every single spot was filled with a rose. That’s when you also noticed that beside you was a little teddy bear on your bedside table that was holding a little round circle.

You recognised it as one of the recording devices that heroes used. You reached forward to grab it and tap it.

“Good morning, my love and happy Valentine’s day.” You couldn’t help but soften at the sound of your husband’s voice. “I wanted to thank you for the amazing years we’ve spent together. There isn’t a single morning in which I wake up and not thank God that you are my wife and partner till the end. You are my everything and I am so blessed to have you. Enjoy the rest of your day and I’ll see you later for our dinner reservations. I love you so much. Your loving husband, Izuku.”

You couldn’t help but start giggling as you held the teddy bear to your heart and started to squeal in pure delight. You were so happy to have such an amazing man like him. You loved him so much, it often hurt your heart.

You quickly grabbed your phone and started face timing him.

It only took a few seconds before your husband’s face popped up. A smile was on his face as he looked back at you. “Honey, are you alright? I’m in a meeting and-”

“Oh my goodness! Izuku, did you do this!?” You shouted, it only made him laugh, realising it had to do with the Valentine’s surprise he had given you. “How did you do all this? It’s so beautiful!”

He chuckled and gave you a gentle smirk on his face. “A hero never tells his secrets.” He told you.

“Oh Izuku, I love you so much! You’re so amazing. When you get back, damn believe I’m giving you head for this.”

Your husband bloomed red in the face as he glanced up from the screen. He was always aware of your rather blunt way of professing your attractions to him but not on the phone like this. At least not when he was not alone. He let out a nervous laugh. “Uh… sweetheart... I’m still in a meet-”

“I promise you Izuku, the moment you get home I’m gonna be on my knees-”

“KEEP THAT SHIT TO YOURSELF!” You heard a voice shout from the background. Suddenly your husband’s phone was out of his hands and in the hands of your ex, Bakugou Katsuki. He was wearing his hero uniform which was why his dark eyes glared at you as he held the phone to his face. “No one wants to hear what you’re gonna do to that nerd today!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you gave Bakugou a pout. “Aww, woke up without a valentine Katsuki?” You teased.

Bakugou scoffed as he looked back at you, a fire in his eyes he always looked at you with even now. “You and I both know that ain’t true, sweetheart.”

Suddenly the phone was grabbed back and your husband appeared again. He glared off to someone which was probably Bakugou. “He woke up with something up his ass this morning, that’s what got him so pissed.” Your husband shot back earning a shout from the blond and a giggle from you. He completely ignored him and smiled down at you. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

You waved with a giggle. “Bye Zuzu.” You wished sweetly before hanging up the phone.

“Sweetheart!” Izuku called as he entered your home, left arm holding bags while he closed the door behind him. He closed the door before entering into your shared home. “I’m home! I got our clothes from our designer for this evening. She seemed pretty excited to dress us for dinner and-”

Now with that sorted, you could happily leave bed and go about your day, getting Izuku’s valentines day present ready in the meantime.

Taking him by surprised, you had managed to appear out from the sitting rom and pull him by his collar down to kiss you. His large green eyes went wide before they softened and closed with a low chuckle as he took his right arm to wrap around you and pull you into his side. At the feeling of his arm keeping you pressed to him, you gasped which he instantly took advantage of. You felt the tightening coil of desire deep inside you as you felt his tongue in your mouth. Your hands moved down his chest, feeling the expanse of his body underneath your fingers before finally getting to his belt. You started to unbuckle his belt and slipping back away from him. Your hand palmed him from over his pants.

A groan stumbled out of your husband’s lips as he looked down at you. You quickly moved down onto your knees as you had managed to unbuckle his belt already. “You weren’t kidding.” He let out with a low chuckle. “All this over flowers, honey?” He asked amusedly.

“All this for my husband.” You shot up at him with a gentle smirk as you carefully took his cock out of his boxers. You swallowed down hard as you looked at his already hard cock that you knew was just aching and ready for you. He held the heavy thing, looking up at it in wonder. It was the one part of his body other than his hands and feet that didn’t have freckles. You always found that so amusing. You looked back up at him, your eyes locking with his before you slowly took him into your mouth.

A stuttered breath left his mouth as he rolled his eyes back with a groan. “Oh fuck.” He let out lowly. You heard the sound of the bags he was holding drop onto the floor as he moved to cup the back of your head. His dark green eyes that were half lidded in lust looked down at you. He moved you further up his cock, trying to get you as far as you could go without deepthroating yet.

You moved back taking in a deep inhale, smelling the musk of sweat and his own scent. You let out a groan as you moved to take him in your hand. You moved your hand up and down his cock, using your saliva as lube. You moved your mouth to the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it as you worked him up.

Izuku groaned in pleasure as he watched you service him. This was one thing he was not expecting from you so early in the day. You both were naturally very affectionate with one another but he was expecting to wine and dine you first before getting the privilege of touching you like this. However, he couldn’t complain. Not with the way your lips were wrapped around his cock like that.

You let out a gasp as you moved to try and suck on his cock more, moving a further inch. You felt saliva dribble down your chin, but you couldn’t seem to care. Something about this seemed all so erotic. Your husband had just come home, a hardworking man who spent his day risking his life for the city of Japan, providing for you so that you could live your best little life however you chose to without having to lift a finger.

There was a dazed look in your eyes as you bobbed your head on his cock, the taste of precum on your tongue spurring you on. Izuku knew that look in your eyes and it made him chuckle. You felt his fingers glide down the side of your face before wrapping around your neck making a groan stumble out of your lips and around his cock. Izuku moaned at the feeling before pulling you off his cock forcing you to look up at him, his grip on you tight and rough enough to make you clench. Your underwear was already sticking to your cunt, only fuelling the lust you had inside you.

He let out a low chuckle as he looked down at you. “Look at you, honey. Being such a good girl for me, on your knees for your husband the first thing he gets home.” His condescending tone had you letting out a whine. “You think you can make me cum before we have to go?” He asked with a tilt of his head. You nodded your head dumbly. “Oh you can? That’s good, honey. I’m so glad.” He praised.

Without a second to give you anytime to think, Izuku pushed his thumb in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue to keep your mouth opened wide enough for him to slip his cock inside your mouth. You gagged lightly as you felt the head of his cock tap the back of your throat making him shiver. Slowly, moving to hod your head securely, he began to fuck your mouth. He moved your face back and fourth, feeling the way your throat tightened around his cock.

Another groan stumbled out of his lips. “Good girl. So fucking good.” He praised as he looked down at you. “You’re so perfect. So perfect for me, but also such a fucking tease.”

You felt him bully his cock deeper down your throat as you had the entirety of his cock in your throat. You couldn’t breathe and yet you couldn’t help but love it. Your eyes watering as you flicked your eyes up to him just how he liked it, making him twitch inside your throat. Your nose was buried in curly green hair. You moved to grab his thighs as you took a moment to swallow around him, trying to breathe.

“Busy calling me in the middle-” He grunted as he finally pulled you off of his cock for a second making you gasp, a line of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. You reached forward, moving your hand up and down, squeezing towards the tip just like you knew he liked it. “in the middle of a meeting and saying such lewd things. Can’t have one day where you’re not begging for my cock, now can you?”

You shook your head as you looked up at him with wide eyes. “No Izu. No, I can’t. Now please come for me.” You begged him.

He let out a low hum as he smiled, a thumb brushing against your swelling lips. “Who am I to say no?” He asked rhetorically before a moan tumbled out of his lips. “Holy-” You ran your tongue down the underside of his cock, up the prominent vein that went up his cock. You then wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, sucking as you pressed your thumbs up the underside of his cock. A shiver ran through your husband as he tilted his head up in pure pleasure. “Don’t stop. Oh don’t fucking stop, sweetheart. I’m gonna… fuck you’re not making me last long.” His chuckle quickly turned into a moan as his grip on you tightened.

You worked harder to try and make him cum, disregarding your own pleasure right now for his, knowing that your husband would take care of you well enough that you’d be stuck in bed tomorrow. You took a deep breath before pushing yourself up to the very end, his thick cock pressing against your throat. You swallowed around him.

You felt Izuku’s big hands grip the side of your head tighter as he came down your throat, a groan tumbled out of his lips as he held you there. You swallowed everything he was giving you, half wishing you could have kept it in your mouth for him. Tears went to your eyes as you looked up at your flushed husband, so much cum going down your throat that you wished could go inside you instead.

It only took a few short seconds and Izuku eased up, allowing you to pull your head back. You gasped, inhaling air as you tried to feed your hungry lungs. You looked up at him with heavy breaths as he crouched down in front of you. You felt his hands move to your neck, always loving the hold he had of you, and pulling you to his lips, wanting to taste himself on your lips. You let out a giggle as you leaned closer to him.

Izuku let you breathe, allowing you to catch your breath as you rested your head on his shoulder. He let out a low chuckle. “Can we get ready for our reservations now?” He asked you, plans on what he would do later to return the favour to you already spilling in his mind. Angelica-Nina hopped over, rather unimpressed by the both of you but nevertheless greeted her owner by nudging him with her nose. The black furred rabbit flopped down next to him for love and affection making him laugh. “Happy Valentines day to you too, princess.” He chuckled as he pet her down her ears and back. “I swear I have such needy girls in my life.”

“IZUKU!” You cried out as you weren’t even out of your dress before your husband had bullied his cock inside you. You could barely breathe or think as his cock pushed inside you. The stretch was just what you were craving and aching for. Something so filling inside you, that was made to fit inside you like a key to a lock. Izuku was perfect for you like that. You gasped as you felt the fat head of his cock nudge a part inside of you that had you quivering for a second.

You chuckled as you moved your face up to look at him. You moved a hand to caress his face. “Just can’t get enough of you.” You kissed his jaw making him smile.

A grin went to your husbands face as he pulled off his jacket, throwing it to the side of the kitchen. A layer of pink was dusted over his skin but a devious look was in his eyes. He hummed as he moved to hold onto your lips, pulling out just enough to leave the tip in. You took in a breath almost in relief. A part of you wondered how you got into this situation.

Oh right. Izuku had cornered you there, you just wanting to fetch his present for him and said husband having the inability to wait five seconds. As usual.

He pushed right back into you, making you push yourself up with a gasp, your hands on the counter as you were fucked from behind. His thrusts became vigorous and sharp so suddenly, you felt like you could barely breathe. You let out a loud moan as you felt a large hand wrap around your neck as he forced you to arch your back.

Your cunt gripped his cock tightly, slick had been over your inner thighs as you could barely stop yourself in excitement. The entire dinner, you both could barely keep your hands off of each other. Izuku’s hands often found themselves between your thighs, gripping you too close for comfort and you had your foot wedged between his legs enough to keep him reminded of the reception he had received this morning.

To say the both of you had been aching to fuck like rabbits would be an understatement.

“Right there! Right fucking there Izuku!” You cried out as tears went to your eyes. The harsh slap of your ass against his pelvis nearly being drowned out by the sounds of your cries of pleasure. His thick cock always affected you just right, pushing against your walls and stretching you. Every slam to a place deep inside you that had you seeing stars made you sink more into his grip, giving him utter control to keep you against a counter and fuck you till you could barely speak. “Fuck! Come on baby! Give it to me.” You urged as you brought a hand to the back of his neck.

Izuku groaned as you moved his lips to kiss the side of your neck. “You feel so good, honey, fuck~” He moaned as he gripped your neck tighter making you groan. “Did you stretch yourself out all just for me? Your pussy is taking me so easily.” He smirked as he kept up his pace without problem.

A particular thrust had you squeal for a second. Izuku couldn’t help but chuckle as he pulled up the bottom of your dress, moving it over your hips. He lifted your right leg to let it lay on the counter before fucking up into you at a new angle.

“AH! YESS!” You cried out. “Yes! I couldn’t help it! I had t-to touch myself- AH!!” An orgasm took you by surprise as you found yourself coming around his cock. You were shivering, pleasure rendering you nearly useless as you moaned out.

Your velvety walls tightened around Izuku, milking his cock for what he could give you as you creamed around him, a ring of white around him. A low growl left his throat as he fucked you through it, letting go of your neck to allow you to collapse onto the counter as he gripped your hips and fucked into you harder. A flush over his face as he seemed determined to fuck you until you were mindless. You couldn’t even think with how good you felt.

“Izu!” You whined. You felt one hand move around you to deep down to your clit. One brush of his fingers and a loud moan left your lips. His calloused fingers, so thick and big and yet so experienced with your body expertly rubbed your clit in circles. A broken cry left you as the pleasure was becoming too much, tears in your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. “Izu, I just- I can’t-” You shook your head. “I can’t!”

“Yes you can, my love.” He spoke so sweetly but you could hear that he wasn’t taking no for an answer. His fingers wouldn’t stop and nether did his cock that was pounding into you like you were a living fleshlight. “I know you can. You’re my good girl, my perfect wife. You deserve it, don’t you think? Hm?”

You nodded your head stupidly, unable to respond with anything other than broken moans and cries that filled your house with tales of your ecstasy.

He chuckled as he nodded his head. “Yes you do. So how about you go ahead and come for me.” He hadn’t sped up nor slow down but his fingers were methodical and planned. Enough for you to know that he wouldn’t stop until you had down as he ordered.

A broken sob left your mouth as your hips jerked as another orgasm wrecked through your body. Your hips shaking as you were lucky that one of your legs were perched on the counter the else you would have fallen to your knees. Your husband smirked as he heard your cries of pleasure, tears in your eyes as he kept his fingers exactly where he wanted them to and fucked you through it. He groaned at the amazing feeling of your sex massaging him as you came.

Pained cries left your mouth at your clit receiving more stimulation. You shook your head and cried but no real words came out of your mouth. Nothing but chants to your husband’s ears.

“That’s it. Good girl.” He praised as he finally moved his hand away from your clit and back to your hips, focusing on fucking into you and his own pleasure. Your relief was short lived as you jostled back and fourth still, the steady jingle of the diamond necklace that was around your neck still thumping against your skin.

You gripped onto the counter tighter. “Come on Izuku. Cum inside me. Please, I want you to.”

A low growl stumbled out of your husband as he pressed deep inside you. With a groan, a burst of warm cum spurt inside you, making you shiver at the delicious feeling. You let out a hum as you tightened your sex around him, not wanting him to be anywhere else. Izuku pushed deeper inside you, resting his head on your shoulder. “Yes… oh fuck yes.” He breathed out heavily, moving a hand underneath you to your lower abdomen where he could feel himself inside you.

Ever since marrying you, Izuku had an inexplainable need to be one with you, almost as if being a separate being entirely wasn’t enough for him. He ached for you more than anything. He let out a deep hum as he placed a kiss to your jaw, slowly moving to finally free you from being trapped between him and the marble counters.

He rested a hand on your lower back, where he kept your dress up from falling. He slowly pulled out from inside you. It didn’t take more than a second before thick white cum started to slowly trickle out of you, making you whimper. Izuku drew in a sharp breath with a low curse under his breath. If there was one thing that always got your husband going, it was seeing you stuffed with his cum like you were supposed to be.

He dragged two fingers to stuff back into you, keeping him seed deep inside you, making you whimper. He hummed.

Then something caught his eyes. Sitting on the counter to his left near the stove were carrot cupcakes all in the shape of a heart with red and white icing. A little card written with his name was on the front one.

“Aww, honey… you did this?” He asked as he motioned to the cupcakes. He grabbed one cupcake with his free hand and bite into it. He let out a groan at the taste of your baking. “Darling, you really know the way to my heart.” He praised as he nodded his head. “This is delicious.” He continued to ramble off with his mouth filled with cupcakes.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the fact that you weren’t even able to stand and here your husband was, praising your cooking with his fingers still stuck inside you, just like any regular Wednesday.

-Glitch1d

#izuku midoriya x reader #mha x y/n #bnha #izuku x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya smut #izuku midoryia smut #mha izuku #izuku smut #midoriya izuku #midoriya smut #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku midoria x reader #deku x reader smut #deku smut #izuku rizzdoriya

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bellaveux · 11 months

Note

okay but wht if instead of a cheerful reader, theyre serious, strict, and quiet. AND WANDA WOULD BE GOLDEN RETRIEVER TYPE

but oh boy, behind the walls wanda's making reader making noises.

imagine if this is professor! wanda x college student reader too :>

AFTER CLASS | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: your professor, wanda, asks you to stay behind after class.

content warnings: minors dni! professor!wanda maximoff x student!reader, college au, unspecified age gap, smut!; semi public sex, oral and fingering (r! receiving), multiple orgasms (?), wanda being horny

word count: 3.3k

note: golden retriever gf wanda x black cat!reader im gonna cry (it would also fit the other way around but thinking about wanda being a golden retriever gf is so cute !! )

“Please, meet me after class. I have something important to discuss.”

It was a simple statement — one that you have heard millions of times from this specific professor, who also happened to be your lover. Wanda had developed a somewhat customary routine of asking you, her diligent student and girlfriend, to remain behind after class. The gesture had become so familiar that it had almost taken on an air of expected routine. Wanda's expressive eyes, frequently framed by her glasses, would glint with a mixture of affection and anticipation, while her lips, adorned with a subtle smile, conveyed a tender invitation.

And while you loved being with her, you, ever the dedicated student, found yourself caught in a tug-of-war between your commitment to her academic responsibilities and the allure of being in the presence of your girlfriend. It had become a delicate balancing act, a hesitant dance between your desire to excel in your studies and the yearning to cherish the moments spent with Wanda. Not to mention, she’d often keep you from going to your next class just because her desires for you often left your legs wobbly and your body tired and sleepy, so you’d spend the rest of the day with her, nap in her office for a bit, then she’d let you go to go to your dorm or take you home with her which was what would usually happen.

Sitting in the classroom, you found yourself caught in a tantalizing dichotomy. As your eyes flickered between the pages of your notebook and Wanda, your alluring professor, frustration simmered within you. Another problem. The struggle to concentrate on the subject matter intensified as Wanda commanded the room's attention with effortless grace. Dressed in a form-fitting suit that accentuated her curves and exuded confidence, Wanda possessed an undeniable magnetism that made it near impossible for you to focus on anything else. She always teased you, knowing very well how much you liked it when she left her shirt unbuttoned at the top, only just a hint of her cleavage showing just for you to see. The way Wanda's tailored blazer hugged her slender frame, subtly revealing her silhouette, was both a distraction and a temptation. Your gaze would inadvertently drift from your notes, drawn to the way Wanda's perfectly pressed trousers elongated her legs, highlighting their elegant contours.

With each captivating gesture and poised movement, Wanda effortlessly commanded the attention of the room, her voice carrying an air of intellectual allure. Your heart raced as you observed the subtle nuances of Wanda's expressions, your mind entangled in a constant battle between admiration and yearning.

And it was just as entertaining to Wanda. She loved the way your eyes looked when you stared at her. In every lecture, every discussion, Wanda could feel your eyes, a gaze filled with a mixture of love and curiosity. It delighted her to no end, a secret amusement that sparked joy within her heart. The way your gaze lingered on her, studying her every movement and expression, whispered secrets that words could not convey. It was an intoxicating sensation, the feeling of being the center of someone's world.

And you were quiet; always sitting poised at your desk, diligently taking notes as she spoke, your demeanor radiating an air of reserved seriousness. Your eyes either scanned the pages of your textbook or listened intently with unwavering focus, your every movement exuding a quiet you. You existed as a paradoxical enigma—a reserved, strict, and quiet student whose essence exuded an understated magnetism.

Yet, behind closed doors, Wanda, your passionate and daring lover, held the key to unlocking the dormant passions within you. She was quite the expert in breaking that calm facade of yours. With an intimate understanding of your hidden depths, Wanda possessed the power to awaken the dormant embers, igniting a fiery passion that raged between the two of you. It was in these moments of seclusion that your reserved nature was shed, revealing a vulnerability that echoed through every delicious gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

There were times when Wanda would purposely lock eyes with you, a playful challenge passing between the two of you. In those moments, a silent dialogue unfolded, a dance of shared fascination and unspoken desires. It was a dance that brought a sparkle to Wanda's eyes and quite adorable flush to your cheeks, an unspoken connection that bound you together.

While she had you in her class, she always wished for time to go faster, leading up to the moment when she’d have you alone, all to herself, for her to love you without any interruptions. She thought about you every second of class, missing your touch, your skin, your lips. You’d let her, right? You always do. Because it was her asking.

As the final words of Wanda's lecture echoed in the classroom, your gaze would wander towards the clock, mindful of the ticking seconds that drew you closer to your next class. The familiar request to stay behind reverberated in your ears, accompanied by a soft flutter in your heart. A part of you longed to linger, to bask in the warmth of Wanda's company, to have whispered conversations, to kiss and make love.

“(Y/n). My office,” she said firmly, taking some papers off of her desk before walking through the door of her private workroom.

It was a covert demand, a subtle plea to rendezvous away from prying eyes, to indulge in stolen moments of intimacy.

As the room gradually emptied, Wanda's eyes never wavered from your form, tracing the delicate curves of your face, the softness of your lips, and the sparkle in your eyes as packed your books and papers into your bag. Each passing moment intensified the desire that lay hidden between the two of you, adding a subtle thrill to your secret tryst. Finally, the last student departed, leaving the room bathed in an intimate hush. Wanda's voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper as she beckoned you closer, your gazes locking in a knowing exchange.

A conflicted sigh fell from your lips as you stood from your seat and made your way over to where Wanda held the door to her office open for you, watching the sexy sway of your hips as you walked. She had to fight to stop herself from grabbing you, pushing you against a wall, then having her way with you. With practiced composure, Wanda maintained an outward appearance of professionalism, her gaze lingering on you as you stepped inside. But beneath the facade, her heart quickened with anticipation, knowing that she was finally alone with you.

She shut the door and turned around to face you, leaning against it as she watched you.

“What did you want to discuss, professor?” you asked, glancing up at the clock above her window.

You stood in the intimate sanctuary of Wanda's office, the air thick with anticipation and an undercurrent of shared desire. The room, adorned with shelves of books and mementos of scholarly pursuits, seemed to come alive as your presence filled the space. Time seemed to slow, suspended in the charged moment, as your eyes took in every detail, waiting for your girlfriend to reply to your question.

With a bated breath, you turned around, your heart skipping a beat at the sight that awaited you.

There, leaning against the doorframe, was Wanda, a radiant smile adorning her face. The soft light filtering through the window illuminated her features, casting a warm glow upon her. In that instant, time stood still once again, encapsulating the profound affection that emanated from Wanda's loving gaze.

And at that moment, you realized what was coming next.

“Wanda…”

Wanda pushed herself off of the door and unbuttoned her suit jacket before walking towards you and placing her hands on your hips, “Stay. Please?”

“Wanda, I have to get to my next class.”

“No, no, no. Stay,” she pleaded, leaning forward to litter gentle kisses along your jaw down to the side of your neck. “Please, stay. I want you.”

You kept your hands at her shoulders, not sure whether you wanted to push her away or keep her close as she kissed your skin in a way that made your knees go weak.

“No, Wanda—“

“Look, I’ll send an email or a note, or something. I’ll make up some excuse,” she said quickly, shooting you with those puppy eyes that always seemed to get you to agree to whatever she was saying. “Please, baby. I’ll be quick, promise. I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”

And it worked.

You stood before her, your expression a tapestry of conflicted emotions. A sigh escaped your lips once more, a breath laden with a blend of disbelief and surrender. It was a look that spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment that you were about to relinquish control, bending the rules of convention to fulfill Wanda's desire. As you met Wanda's gaze, your eyes betrayed a flicker of disbelief, an incredulous awe that danced within their depths. It was as if the gravity of the moment, the realization that you were about to give in to Wanda's request, weighed upon you like a beautiful burden.

Wanda, on the other hand, couldn't contain her excitement, a radiant joy that illuminated her entire being. The corners of her lips curled upward, revealing a playful and endearing smile. Her eyes sparkled with childlike enthusiasm, mirroring the delight that bubbled within her. Your decision to stay, to sacrifice another class just to be in Wanda's presence, filled her heart with warmth and tenderness.

You glared at her, mumbling softly enough for her to hear, “Don’t rip anything.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Wanda, her eyes sparkling with delight, couldn't help but break into a warm and affectionate smile as she beheld your commitment to grant her deepest desires. With a tender grace, Wanda leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you. Her lips met yours, sighing in relief as you moaned into her mouth.

In the delicate space between your lips, Wanda felt an electric surge of desire coursing through her veins. It wasn’t just the touch of your lips that sparked a radiant smile upon Wanda's face; it was the intoxicating sound that escaped from your mouth, blending seamlessly against her tongue.

You, known for your reserved nature and quiet demeanor, were a symphony of contradictions in that moment. The gentle melody of your moans reverberated against Wanda's lips, a harmonious composition that stirred a wellspring of emotions within both of you. Each sweet, muffled sound that escaped your throat spoke volumes, revealing a side of you that had long been kept hidden from the world. As Wanda smiled into the kiss, she marveled at the power she held over your inhibitions. The way your body trembled against hers, the way your moans seamlessly merged with the shared breaths, all spoke of profound trust and surrender. It was an exquisite revelation, an invitation into the depths of your desires.

In that stolen moment, Wanda tasted not only the sweetness of your lips but also the vulnerability and passion that emanated from within her. Your moans, once silenced in the shadows of your reserved nature, now spilled forth with unbridled intensity. The sounds echoed with a mixture of pleasure, longing, and the liberation of self-expression.

But, soon, Wanda remembered she wasn’t in the confines of her home, where you could be as loud as she wanted. The two of you were still in her office, a private room within her lecture hall — a room that was definitely not soundproof.

Wanda sighed, whispering against your lips, “I want to taste you.”

You almost felt lightheaded with the way she began to kiss you behind your ear, down to the curve of your neck, and her hands sneaking their way under your shirt and underneath your skirt, pulling them up roughly. Wanda pushed you with her body until your backside hit the front of her desk, groaning when you clawed at her jacket.

“Try to stay quiet for me, baby,” she said, her hands playing at the hem of your skirt. “Okay?”

You nodded quickly, reaching up to put a hand on her hair, tugging at it lightly just the way she likes it, “Yeah.”

Wanda smiled once again and gave you another searing kiss before she slowly made her way down to her knees. She knelt, her face leveled with your skirt as she pushed your hips against the desk, holding you still. After a moment of enjoying the way you gripped onto her hair lightly even when she hadn’t began doing anything yet, Wanda let her hands run along the back of your soft thighs, trailing them upwards to your ass as she hooked your lace panties on her thumbs. She also remembered her promise, fighting the urge to rip your panties right off of you.

“Did you dress up all pretty for me, baby?” She smiled against the fabric of your skirt, slow hands pulling your underwear off, then stuffing them into her back pocket for safekeeping.

“Mhmm,” was all you could muster out as you stared down at Wanda.

“Of course, you did,” she looked up at you with a sly smile. “Makes it so easy for me to fuck you.”

Her fingers slip through your folds softly, coating them with your slick. She made you watch as she brought her fingers up to her lips, letting her mouth wrap around her own digits, groaning at the taste of you on her tongue. And you could see it — how wet you were. It dripped along her rings, down the back of her hand, and to the watch on her wrist.

Before you could even protest, Wanda’s head disappeared under your skirt, eyes finally meeting the gorgeous sight of your beautiful cunt. She didn’t know if it was just because she was in love with you, but she had never seen a prettier pussy. Your scent filled her nostrils each second she came closer, drawing her in like a moth to a flame, up until she pressed a gentle kiss on your clit. Her hands gripped your thighs tightly as she continued to kiss your pussy, before her tongue darted out to lick your slick from your entrance all the way up to your clit.

“Fuck…” Wanda breathed to herself, moaning at your warmth and sweetness. God, you tasted so good.

You trembled against her as she worked her tongue on your pussy, clasping a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. Wanda hummed against your clit, vibrations making you stutter slightly as she listened to you struggle to keep quiet. Her hands gripped your thighs open as she continued to delve deeper over your most sensitive parts.

After a moment, Wanda eased a finger into you, mouth moving to work over your sensitive clit as she curled her finger against your walls. You gasped when she did so, hips squirming against her desk.

“W-Wanda,” you breathed out quietly, your hand messing up her hair as you tugged on it. “I-I’m close…”

Your girlfriend couldn’t help but smirk against you, listening to the way you whispered while her fingers and your wet cunt made the loudest squelches that sounded throughout the room. She twisted her finger in and out of you; pumping, and pumping, and pumping… wrapping her mouth around your clit and sucked hard.

Your body went rigid as she fingered you faster, as she sucked on you harder — the licking and sucking paired with the ridiculously lewd wet noises coming from her was driving you closer and closer to the edge. Humming a deep moan, Wanda slid in a second finger, fucking you thoroughly with her digits. You let out a strangled moan, bringing your other hand down to her head, and began slowly bucking yourself into her mouth; orgasm building in the pit of your stomach as she fucked you.

“W-Wandaa…” you whined, still trying your best to stay quiet.

Every breathy moan and whimper that came from your lips shot straight towards Wanda’s own heat, knowing very well that no one else but her could hear you like this.

She pumped her fingers in and out of you, building and building and building up closer to your orgasm until the band that held you together finally snapped, causing you to bring one hand up from Wanda’s hair to clasp it over your mouth. You muffled your loudest moan as best as you could while Wanda helped you ride your orgasm out, pulling away from your clit after giving it a gentle kiss that made your legs stutter. Wanda kept her fingers inside of you as she stood from her knees, kissing up your stomach, the valley of your breasts, your neck, then lastly meeting your lips. You moaned into her mouth, tasting yourself on her tongue.

Before you could even pull away, Wanda slowly began to pump her fingers into you once again. She used her mouth to muffle your moans along with hers as your hands clawed at her back. Wanda didn’t stop, continuing to finger you until you couldn’t take it anymore. Even after riding out your orgasm, you began to squirm underneath her, desperately trying to shut your legs.

Every part of you was so sensitive and Wanda only sought out more.

Your jaw went slack as you tried your best to keep kissing her, but you couldn’t help but keep your mouth open to let out silent moans as she fucked her fingers into you, “W-Wanda, please—I’m gonna cum again—“

Wanda smiled wickedly, “Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and give me another one, baby?”

Your second orgasm hit like a freight train. Wanda used her free hand to clasp her palm over your mouth, muffling the scream that you were about to let out. Your body trembled against hers, arching your back as you continued to shake.

Wanda held you close, creating a cocoon of safety and warmth as you trembled in her arms. With whispered tenderness, Wanda's voice caressed your ear, a soft symphony of soothing words that washed over you like a balm. In the hushed tones of her whispers, she wove a tapestry of affectionate reassurances as you calmed down from your high, letting you rest your head in the crook of her neck, catching your breath. Fingertips brushed tenderly against the nape of your neck, soothing the frayed edges of your being.

“Thank you for staying with me,” Wanda whispered, holding you close against her.

“You’re insufferable,” you say, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek which, in turn, made her smile.

“You love me.”

In the quiet intimacy of the space you shared, Wanda, the professor who held both authority and affection in her gaze, leaned in closer to you. The air between you crackled with anticipation, a delicate dance of playful tenderness. With a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips, Wanda's eyes locked onto yours, capturing your attention.

Wanda kissed you on the lips tenderly, humming softly against your mouth. It held the delicate balance of tenderness and playfulness, conveying a profound depth of affection. The kiss lingered, even long after she pulled away, the hint of her taste resting on your lips. She smiled down at you, hands carefully caressing your waist, keeping you close.

“Now, about those grades,” she said lightheartedly.

In return, you scoffed and slapped her shoulder playfully, rolling your eyes at the statement, “You’re so annoying.”

“I’m kidding,” Wanda smiled and pecked your lips again. “How about dinner later? After your classes, of course.”

You, with your quiet and reserved nature often concealing the depth of your emotions, met Wanda's gaze with a knowing smile. It was a smile that held a myriad of secrets and unspoken truths, a silent affirmation of the connection that had blossomed between the two of you.

The corners of your lips curled upwards, a delicate dance of vulnerability and understanding. It was a smile that spoke volumes—a gentle acknowledgment of the unspoken desires. In that knowing smile, Wanda found solace, reassured that her invitation had been met with reciprocation.

— navigation!

#bellaveux writes!#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #elizabeth olsen #marvel #elizabeth olsen x reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

Text

Study

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: Doing schoolwork while the team is round is not a good idea

The sun patch you were lying in was delightful.

The noise around you, was not.

You opened your eyes blearily, narrowing them to slits in annoyance.

Lucy stared at you and then pointedly turned the tv up in volume, laughing at your disgruntled look.

"Turn it back down," You said.

"No."

"Lucy," You whined," Please turn it down."

"Sorry, kiddo," Keira said as she appeared," But the rest of the team are coming over soon and you've got an essay to write."

You groaned at the reminder but sat up. The whole reason you had taken a nap in the first place was to procrastinate about writing your essay.

"Keira..."

"No, y/n," She said," Part of the agreement we made with your parents was keeping your grades up. I won't make you sit at the kitchen table to write it while the team is round but you have to get it finished today."

You groaned again but relented, grabbing your laptop from where it was charging nearby and pulling up your plan.

Your teammates flooded in through the next hour.

Asisat tapped you on the head as she passed to get to the kitchen. "School work?"

You rolled your eyes. "What gave it away?"

She laughed. "The fact that you've been staring at the screen for nearly twenty minutes and haven't typed a thing."

You darted your eyes across the room to look at Keira, who clearly hadn't noticed. You sent an awkward smile Asisat's way. "Don't tell Keira?"

"Your secret's safe with me."

The more people that arrived, the less you wanted to write your essay. The whole apartment had filled up with noise and even if you wanted to start typing, you were much more interested in hearing Claudia talk about the date she went on with her girlfriend.

You start typing your introduction before deciding you really can't be bothered right now and switch to writing about how Mark Antony's relationship with Cleopatra was the worst thing he could have done from the perspective of other Romans.

You were mindlessly typing and deleting your work when Frido and Aitana joined you on the sofa.

"How is your studying?" Aitana's English was getting much better now that she came around routinely to learn from Keira while you were forced to sit at the table and do your science work.

You gave her a deadpan look. "Oh, just great."

Frido laughed at your sarcasm. "Anything we can help with?"

"Unless you understand the intricacies of Mark Antony and Octavian's war for power after Caesar's death, then no."

Frido pulled a face. "You're studying that?"

"In theory."

Marta and Caro joined a moment later with cans of lemonade and snacks. You snatched up a KitKat quickly, anything to distract you from your next paragraph about Octavian's slanderous propaganda against his rival.

"How is our little student faring?" Marta asked, peering at your screen where you had repeatedly typed out 'I hate this class so much, I wish I could drop out'.

"Not good by the looks of it," Caro said even though it was obvious," What even is this?"

"Ancient Roman politics," Frido replied," It looks very boring."

"It's interesting," You said," Until you have to start writing essays and decide which of these horrible men was better."

"Who is better?" Aitana asked.

"...Octavian, because he won," You replied," But not because he was a better person. This is Rome - if you're not a bad person then are you really an Ancient Roman politician?"

The little group around you burst into laughter and Marta ruffled your hair. "You'll get it finished," She said," You're a smart girl."

Team bonding happened around you for the evening as you mindlessly typed and typed and typed until you were finally finished with your essay.

You stretched out in delight and headed into the kitchen where a to-do list hung on the fridge.

Irene, Sandra and Mariona were already there, studying it curiously as you grabbed a pen from the top of the fridge (standing on your tiptoes to reach it) before you crossed off your Classical Civilisations essay.

"That's a lot of work," Mariona said," This is for the whole month?"

"This is for the week," You replied, taking in her shocked look at your words," But I'm nearly done." You crossed off the Physics homework you finished last night along with the Maths worksheet you got done before practice this morning.

"It gets this bad?" Irene asked," I worry about when Mateo starts school properly."

You frowned. "I'm pretty sure that Mateo getting homework will be doing a drawing rather than writing essays."

"Well, if it helps," Sandra cut in," At least you've finished your essay now! You're free!"

You shook your head and pointed to the only thing Lucy had contributed to your list.

FINISH YOUR FUCKING PSYCHOLOGY ESSAY

"It's about language development in infants," You said, opening the fridge and grabbing some more lemonade.

When you finally made your way back to the living room, your seat had been taken by some of the girls so you ended up sitting in front of the armchair that Ingrid and Mapi had taken refuge on.

Instantly, Ingrid's hands threaded through your hair, massaging your scalp before pulling strands out of your face and pulling them into an intricate braid.

Apart from ever so slightly making you move your head to different positions, you were left mostly alone as you typed away about more research studies using brain imaging.

Mapi shifted behind you and you could tell she was trying to read over your shoulder.

"Why do you need to learn this?" She asked.

"It's interesting," You replied," I thought about doing psychology at uni before Barca signed me. I just hate writing about it."

"It looks boring."

"It's not," You said. Ingrid tied off your new braid and you turned to look at Mapi with a wolfish smile. "Besides, is it boring for you because it hits too close to home? Since you're such a child?"

Mapi swatted at you jokingly, lightly kicking you in the back until you shifted away from her with your laptop.

You refuge came in the form of the pile on the floor in front of the tv. Bruna and Jana welcomed you into the group instantly and you found yourself sandwiched between Ona and Esmee, who were viciously going against each other in FIFA.

"Is your essay finished?" Esmee asked," Keira told me not to text you after practice because you were writing your essay."

"Nearly," You replied," I've just got one more paragraph and then the conclusion. Ona's about to score, by the way."

With your words, Esmee just managed to block the shot as Ona shoved you in annoyance.

Jana and Bruna broke into laughter and peered over your shoulder.

"You used the wrong word," Jana said, pointing to where you had been writing about Piaget.

"It's kind of embarrassing that you're correcting me on my own native language," You said to her even as you corrected yourself.

"Learn Spanish," Bruna said," She makes a lot of mistakes in that."

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do!"

"You so do," Ona said," And y/n, you've got your tenses wrong."

You hadn't even noticed that the match had ended and that Ona was studying your essay until she spoke. Esmee looked over it as well, pointing at another grammar mistake.

You slapped their hands away and pointed to each of you. "Stop it! It'll get spellchecked at the end! You're ruining my creative process!"

"What creative process?" Jana laughed," You're writing an essay!"

"I hate you!" You declared with a laugh," Each and every one of you!" You pointed at them each in turn.

"Don't lie!" Bruna said," You love us."

You bat your eyelashes at her. "Write my essay and you'll have my undying love!"

"No chance!"

You finished your essay soon after without any of their help (although you would be the first to admit that your conclusion wasn't exactly the best) and hurried to cross it off the list, snatching it off the fridge. You sought out Keira in a group of the older girls. You showed her the list.

"I'm done!"

She took it from you, looking it over sceptically.

"And your psychology essay?"

"Yes!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Keira, promise!"

"She promises, Keira!" Patri mocked your tone with a smile as Claudia and Gemma laughed.

You were one second away from stamping your foot but you refrained because you would never live down the 'little kid' allegations from your teammates if you did so.

"Look at this face!" Gemma said, cupping your cheeks," How could you be mean to this one?"

Keira had a contemplative look on her face.

"Come on, Keira," Claudia said," It's the weekend. We have a match in two days. She's been doing her work since we arrived. Let her have this."

"She could have had it finished before you all arrived if she hadn't taken a nap after practice."

"She's a growing girl!" Patri declared," She needs her nap so she can be big and strong like me when she grows up!"

An arm was thrown over your shoulder and you bit back your retort that the world couldn't handle two versions of Patri.

"Oh...fine, then. y/n go let Narla out of your room and then you're free for the rest of the day."

"Yes!" You pumped your fist into the air and hurried off.

Narla had been shut into your room the moment you came home after Keira watched you play with the little dog instead of doing your homework so she seemed very happy to be free, leaping into your arms like a little princess and making you walk her into the living room.

Salma and Cata intercepted you on the way, cooing over Narla like they had never met her before even though they had.

"It's strange to see you without your laptop," Cata said to you as she tickled under Narla's chin," I thought that it was surgically attached to you or something."

You would have shoved her if you had access to your hands but you didn't so settled for an unimpressed eyeroll. "Ha, ha, very funny. Make fun of my massive workload. I don't see you studying while playing football!"

"You know," Salma said and you already knew she was going to say something to tease you," When I was your age, I didn't have to worry about deadlines because I just did my work the day it got set."

You scoffed. "You're only three years older than me!" You stuck your tongue out at her. "If you want to write my essays for me, Salma, you should have just asked."

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "That sounds like hell on earth."

You laughed all the way back to the living room, placing Narla on the floor and grabbing some snacks from the table when nobody was looking. You ended up on the floor for the most part, sat by Lucy's chair as the older woman sat above you, occasionally reaching down to feed you chocolate when she was sure Keira wasn't looking. But as it got later in the evening, you ended up migrating onto the sofa with Alexia.

"I heard you finished all your schoolwork for the week," She said as you lazed against her side, watching whatever Spanish soap opera Patri had forced onto the tv.

"Uh-huh." You were only half listening as you dozed off. Her nails scratched lightly at your scalp and the blanket that had been thrown over the pair of you made you feel all cosy and warm.

"Well done, y/n. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you," You slurred slightly, head dropping to her shoulder as your vision got blurrier and blurrier.

"Are you tired, bebita?"

"No..."

Her chuckle jolted her body slightly but it was a little like the vibrations from being in a car so your eyes just drooped lower. "I think you are."

"Not...Not tired."

"You are. I think all that studying took it out of you."

"No..." You whined slightly and Alexia pulled you in a bit tighter. She manipulated your body in some way you didn't realise because you blinked and suddenly you were lying stretched out with your head in her lap. "I'm...I'm not tired."

You had already missed out on team bonding because of your studying. You didn't want to miss out on any more.

"You are very tired." Alexia's tone was firm but still somehow soothing and her nails drew patterns on your arm comfortingly. "You just need a little nap."

You tried to protest but Alexia's voice just got a bit firmer and a bit more like her captain voice so you knew that you couldn't argue back.

"Come on, bebita. It's nap time for good students like you. I'll wake you up when the food gets here."

#woso x reader #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 5 months

Text

I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Claus.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - i feel like this idea is really cute and just had to be written down:)

word count - 1.4k

in which, when you and harry are putting the christmas presents under the tree on christmas eve, with harry dressed up in a santa costume just for his own novelty, and share a little moment to themselves, unbeknownst to them that there four year old son arlo, was watching the whole time.

00:13am. 25th December, 2023.

On this whimsical Christmas Eve, the air is infused with the scent of pine and anticipation as you and your husband Harry, donned in a jolly Santa suit purely for his own delight, tiptoe around the cozy living room.

The soft glow of twinkling lights casts a warm ambiance, enveloping the space in a serene holiday magic.

Upstairs in the master bed, your precious four-year-old, Arlo, is lost in dreams of sugarplums and toy-filled wonderlands.

As his dreams weave their gentle tapestry, you and Harry share mischievous smiles, conspirators in the clandestine mission to deliver presents beneath the twinkling Christmas tree.

In the quietude of the night, laughter bubbles between you and Harry, a shared joy that needs no reason. Silently, you exchange glances, finding amusement in the simple joy of being together on this enchanting night. The muffled laughter dances in the air, a secret language spoken in the hushed tones of love.

The presents, adorned with festive paper and ribbons, find their places beneath the tree like treasures awaiting discovery. With each shared giggle, you and Harry weave invisible threads of happiness, wrapping the room in the warmth of familial love.

The task at hand becomes a delightful game of stealth and joy. Harry, in his Santa suit, moves with a festive grace, and you follow suit, your hearts synchronized in the shared delight of creating magic for Arlo. Laughter, sweet and spontaneous, becomes the soundtrack to this festive ballet.

Beside the twinkling evergreen, Arlo's offerings for Santa and his reindeer beckon: a plate adorned with mince pies and a bunch of crisp carrot for Rudolph.

Harry, ever the good sport in his Santa attire, merrily takes a bite of the sweet, spiced pie, savoring the festive flavor with genuine delight.

Meanwhile, you opt for the crunchy carrots, enjoying their crisp freshness. The contrast of flavours mirrors the yuletide spirit, blending the sweetness of the mince pies with the earthy simplicity of the carrots.

The pièce de résistance, however, is the offering of milk. Harry, with a theatrical flourish, lifts the glass to his lips, only to be met with a cringe as the chilly liquid meets his tongue. The milk, left out for Santa's refreshment, bears the unmistakable chill of a night spent waiting. The internal wince is evident on Harry's face, though he valiantly soldiers on, determined not to let a bit of cold milk dampen the festive mood.

As you stand in the hushed glow of the Christmas tree, satisfied smiles exchanged with Harry, a sense of completion washes over you. The presents are arranged, the festive treats enjoyed, and the world outside is wrapped in a blanket of silent snow. It feels like the perfect moment to retire to bed, where dreams of sugarplums can join the night's symphony.

But just as you entertain the idea of slipping under the warm covers, Harry, in his Santa suit, wraps his arms around your waist with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. His lips press gentle kisses against your neck, creating a trail of warmth that contrasts the cool air of the room. You can't help but laugh, a delighted sound that dances in the quietude.

"M’not quite ready f’bed yet," he murmurs against your neck, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "If I go now, I'll just get kicked in the back by ‘Lo, and I'll end up with no quilt."

The unexpected declaration sends a ripple of laughter through you, and you playfully turn around in his embrace. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you meet his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" you tease, your lips curving into a smile.

In the gentle dance of shared laughter and lingering gazes, you both revel in the magic of the moment. The Christmas lights cast a soft glow on Harry's face, accentuating the warmth in his eyes. His lips meet yours in a brief but tender kiss, a sweet punctuation to the unspoken joy that fills the room.

"M’suppose bedtime can wait a bit longer," he concedes, his arms tightening around you. "After all, who could resist the allure f’a quiet, magical Christmas night?"

In the gentle glow, Harry's eyes meet yours with a magnetic pull, and the world outside seems to vanish. His arms envelop you, creating an intimate cocoon that shields you from the outside world. The soft strains of holiday tunes linger, providing a subtle backdrop to the unspoken language of desire that fills the room.

The air is thick with a sweet tension as Harry's lips find yours in a series of passionate kisses, each one deepening the connection between you. Both of you smiling into each others mouths, your hands find the peach fuzz at the back of head neck, whilst his find habitat on the groove of your bum.

The room transforms into a haven of shared intimacy, where the only language spoken is that of desire, and every touch is a brushstroke in the masterpiece of this moment.

The heat of the moment intensifies as you lose yourselves in the magnetic pull of each other. The world outside continues its hushed existence, oblivious to the crescendo of emotions echoing within the room.

The bed, usually shared with the comforting presence of his parents, felt empty, and a sense of curiosity tugged at his tiny heart. Arlo, with his baby blanket in tow, embarked on a solo journey down the hallway.

The plush carpet beneath his little feet muffled his steps as he approached the top of the stairs. The house was still cloaked in the tranquillity of the evening, and Arlo, with wide eyes and tousled hair, peered down into the living room below.

A strange sound caught his attention, and he instinctively clutched his blanket a bit tighter.

At the bottom of the stairs, a tableau unfolded. His mother, adorned in her pajamas, was locked in an embrace with Santa Claus—or so it seemed. Arlo's innocent gaze widened, his imagination dancing with the possibility that Santa himself had arrived early to share a moment with his mom.

The festive glow of the Christmas tree provided an ethereal backdrop to the unexpected scene.

Unaware that the figure beneath the Santa suit was, in fact, his dad, Harry, Arlo continued to observe with a mixture of awe and confusion.

08:21am. 25th December, 2023.

The Christmas morning sun spilled into the kitchen, casting a golden hue on the day's festivities. As you walked in with Arlo nestled on your hip, the air buzzed with the promise of holiday magic.

However, a quiet tension lingered as Arlo, unusually reserved, gazed around the room with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

Harry, donned in a festive apron, stood at the stove, the sizzle of eggs providing a comforting backdrop to the scene. Arlo's silence persisted, his little mind undoubtedly preoccupied with the mysterious encounter from the previous night.

As you settled into the kitchen routine, the atmosphere held a subtle undercurrent of curiosity. Arlo's wide eyes shifted between you and Harry, his silence becoming a palpable presence in the room.

The bewilderment in his gaze hinted at the lingering confusion from witnessing the unexpected kiss with Santa Claus.

With each passing moment, the unspoken question hung in the air. Harry, flipping eggs with a practised ease, stole a glance at Arlo, sensing the inner turmoil of his young son. The parental instinct to reassure tugged at your heart as you navigated the morning, your steps mindful of the unspoken query hanging in the air.

After the hearty Christmas breakfast, Arlo, still harbouring the mystery from the previous night, toddled over to Harry.

His little arms reached up, a silent request to be lifted. Harry, ever the doting dad, scooped him up onto his hip, planting a cascade of playful kisses on Arlo's cheek. The room echoed with the sounds of affectionate giggles.

As Arlo settled into Harry's arms, he seemed to hesitate for a moment, glancing around to ensure that you were nowhere in sight. Satisfied that the conversation would be just between him and his dad, Arlo took a deep breath, his eyes serious.

"I have something to tell you, Daddy," Arlo announced in a hushed voice, leaning in as if sharing a grand secret.

Harry, playfully intrigued, raised an eyebrow and encouraged him to spill the beans.

With an air of importance, Arlo whispered, "I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus."

The words hung in the air, and a mischievous sparkle lit up his eyes. Harry's reaction, however, was unexpected.

A loud, hearty laugh erupted from Harry's chest, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Arlo, momentarily perplexed, couldn't help but join in the infectious laughter. Harry, wiping away an imaginary tear, managed to compose himself and leaned in with mock seriousness.

Harry brought his face closer to his mini-me and brought his voice to a quiet mock whisper.

“Tell m’more.”

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soulofapatrick · 6 months

Text

I Like Your Mind - Edward Cullen x female reader

Summary: As soon as you meet Edward, you're both drawn to each other with an intensity you never expected

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: None

Y/N’s POV

I step into the Cullen house, my heart racing in my chest, and my mind filled with a mixture of fear and fascination. Bella has brought me here, introducing me to the family of her new boyfriend - Jasper Hale - and I can hardly believe where I find myself. I know their secret, the one they’ve been hiding from the world, the fact they’re vampires. And I know Edward can read minds which makes the whole situation even more daunting. But, as Bella races off to find Jasper, I’m left alone I the living room, taking in the stunning surroundings.

The Cullens’ house is unlike any place I’ve ever seen. The air is heavy with an unspoken history, and everything within is both timeless and modern. A grand piano rests against one wall, a dark mahogany masterpiece, and the soft notes of a melody linger in the air, a testament to the musical talents of the family. On the opposite wall, a massive bookshelf houses an impressive collection of novels and ancient texts. Their spines form a spectrum of human knowledge, artfully arranged.

My gaze drifts to the floor-to-ceiling windows that frame the room, offering a breathtaking view of the dense, ancient forest that surrounds the house. The trees stand tall and proud, their branches intertwined like guardians, protecting the Cullens from prying eyes. The afternoon sun filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows that dance across the polished wooden floors.

As my eyes linger on the tranquil forest, my imagination takes flight. I envision myself running through the woods, feeling the cool, damp earth beneath my feet. The leaves would crunch softly with each step, and the intoxicating scent of pine and damp earth would fill my senses. My heart would race, and a rush of adrenaline would surge through me as I lose myself in the untamed beauty of the wilderness. But, what captivates me the most is the idea of running through the forest in the rain. The thought of raindrops falling like liquid diamonds from the heavens, pelting the leaves and creating a gentle, rhythmic melody, sends a shiver of delight down my spine. In my daydream, I am drenched, my clothes clinging to my skin as I twirl and leap through the woods, liberated and carefree.

The rain washes away all my worries and fears, leaving only the exhilaration of the moment. It's as if the world, with all its complexities and complications, has melted away, leaving only the simplicity and purity of the rain-soaked forest. It's a feeling of utter peace, a sense of being one with nature and the world, a sensation I've longed to experience again.

Lost in the serenity of my daydream, I sense a subtle presence to my right. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and a strange but not unwelcome shiver runs down my spine. Slowly, I turn my head to see one of the Cullen brothers standing there, a striking figure with sharp, chiseled features. He exudes an air of quiet strength and confidence, and I can't help but admire his physical appearance.

As I take in his feature, I quickly realise that this isn’t Jasper, as Bella would undoubtedly be with him if he were here. Besides, Jasper is known for his blond hair, which contrasts with the dark brunette locks of the Cullen brother beside me. His eyes, however, remain a shimmering gold, and their intensity is captivating.

Going over Bella’s description, I recall that she mentioned Emmett to be big and buff. Emmett is tall and muscular. He has dark curly hair and dimpled cheeks. Despite his intimidating appearance, he is light-hearted and carefree. This man in front of me is almost quite the opposite with perfect and angular high cheekbones, strong jawline, a straight nose, and full lips causing my heart to quicken with a sudden realisation. In a hushed voice, I tentatively ask, “Edward?”

The name hangs in the air between us, my uncertainty evident in the way I speak his name. The Cullen brother gives a small nod, his eyes holding a hint of amusement and there’s a small smile on his pretty lips as he says, “Hello.” His voice is a velvet whisper that sends a shiver down my spine. My cheeks heat up in response, and I can’t help but feel flustered by his presence. Turning my face away from him, I gaze out at the enchanting forest, using the breathtaking view to regain my composure.

But just as I start to calm my racing heart, I sense his movement. Edward is moving closer, somewhat hesitantly as if he’s scared to do so but he moves so close I can feel the coolness of his chest against my back. The physical proximity is both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and I can’t help but wonder what his intention are as I continue to look out at the tranquil forest.

The peaceful silence in the room is broken by Edward’s soft voice, barely above a whisper, “I like your mind,” he admits, his words sending a rush of warmth through me, “It’s quiet.”

His words wash over me like a gentle caress, and I can’t deny the intrigue of his interest in my mind. It’s a compliment I could never have anticipated, coming from a vampire who can hear the thoughts of others. The intimacy of this moment is palpable, and I can sense the internal struggle within him, as if he’s torn between his desire to touch me and the realisation that we’ve only just met.

Despite my rational thoughts screaming at me to maintain my distance, I surrender to the magnetic pull of Edward Cullen. My back leans into his cool, sculpted chest, and the sensation of his icy hands on my hips sends a shiver of anticipation coursing through me. It's as if the enchantment of the Cullen house, the breathtaking view of the forest, and Edward's irresistible presence have combined to create a spell that I am unable, and unwilling, to break.

Closing my eyes, I allow myself to become completely enveloped in everything Edward. I’m hyperaware of how he feels behind me, the firmness of his chest pressed against my back, the subtle rise and fall of his breath against my neck as if it’s a force of habit for him despite vampires lack of need to breathe. His scent, a delicate blend of lilac, honey and sunshine, fills my senses and intoxicates me, wrapping me in a warm, inviting embrace.

The moment feels intensely romantic, the air electric with the unspoken connection between us. I know that Edward can read my thoughts and perceive my view of him, and in this vulnerable instant, I choose not to resist. I grant him access tot he unfiltered depths of my desire, allowing him to see and feel the passion that simmers beneath the surface.

The tension in the room crackles, the rain outside intensifying as if mirroring the fervour building within us. It's a clandestine dance of two souls drawn together by an unexplainable force. In this silent, electrifying embrace, I become an open book for Edward, my thoughts and desires laid bare, and I can only wonder what he'll make of the desires that race through my mind like wildfire

With a slow and deliberate movement, Edward turns me to face him, his eyes open and unguarded. They flicker with a hint of vulnerability, as if he, too, is uncertain of the depth of this connection. His gaze drops to my lips, and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin as he hovers close. His fingers twirl my hair around them, an intimate gesture that feels like an attempt to memorise every part of me that he can reach. The air crackles with anticipation as I hold my breath, my heart pounding in my chest, The world outside seems to fade away, leaving only the two of us in this electrifying moment.

Edward’s gaze remains locked on mine, a silent promise of the depths of emotions and desire that lie beneath the surface. In the hushed room, our shared anticipation and vulnerability create an electric tension that’s impossible to ignore. His lips are tantalisingly close, and I can feel the coolness of his breath as he hovers near. It’s as if he’s about to kiss me, his intentions clear in the smouldering depths of his golden eyes. But he hesitates, his voice barely a whisper as he mumbles something about not being able to stop once he starts, a confession laden with both longing and restraint.

Unable to resist any longer, I tangle my fingers in his tousled hair, an intimate gesture that communicates my desire and intent. With a gentle, yet urgent push, I guide his face the rest of the way down until his lips finally meet mine.

As our lips meet in a hesitant and guarded kiss, a complex swirl of emotions and desires floods the space between us. Edward, despite his initial restraint, can’t help but respond to the fiery connection we share. His lips, cool and soft, brush against mine with a caution born of a lifetime of self-control. The kiss begins with a tentative exploration, as if he’s testing the boundaries of this newfound intimacy.

The initial hesitancy slowly gives way to a growing intensity, and I can sense his need for more. His grip on me tightens ever so slightly, fingers digging into my hips, a delicate balance between desire and restraint. His response is careful, as if he’s constantly aware of his vampire strength, wary of causing any harm to me. The kiss deepens, his passion building, and the chemistry between us becomes an irresistible force that pushes us further into uncharted territory.

With a slow and deliberate movement, he begins to walk me backwards, his lips never leaving mine, until my back makes contact with the cool glass of the windows, drawing a gasp from me. It has Edward smiling softly, golden eyes a little glazed as if in a trance of disbelief this is happening before his cold nose bumps my neck, making my pulse jump. I should be scared by how close he is to my jugular but I don’t feel any fear or anything, especially when Edward places a soft kiss on my jugular, a silent acknowledgement of the temptation that throbs beneath my skin. His lips are cold, but their touch is gentle, sending shivers of desire coursing through me.

My hands tangle back in his soft locks, guiding his lips back to mine, their coldness a stark contrast to the burning passion that courses between us. In that moment, I am both vulnerable and empowered, willingly allowing myself to be drawn further into this intoxicating dance of desire.

Each kiss makes me feel more alive, more connected to a world I never knew existed. The world outside may be drenched in rain, but in this electrifying embrace, a different kind of storm rages, a tempest of emotions and desires that we can’t control. His lips, cool and velvety soft, meet mine over and over again in a symphony of fire and ice, a fusion of elements that ignite a burning desire deep within me.

His body presses against mine, a solid and unyielding presence that leaves me feeling both vulnerable and empowered. The contrast between his cool skin and the heat of my own sets my senses ablaze. As we deepen our connection, the room seems to spin around us, and I lose myself in the feeling of everything Edward.

The room is charged with our passion, and I can feel it deep in my core. Every kiss is like a secret, a stolen moment in a world that is entirely our own. We lose track of time and space, our lips locked in an intimate dance that only intensifies the fever that has drawn us together in the first place.

But then, like a bolt of lightning in our own private storm, I hear Bella’s joyful squeal. Edward pulling away from me, and I let my face fall into the warmth of his chest, overwhelmed by embarrassment. As I hide from the world, I can feel the soft rumble of amused laughter in Edward’s chest, a sound that both soothes and electrifies me in equal measure.

“Fuck yeah!” Bells shrieks with joy and I flip her off over Edward’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around me, stifling a laugh as he can probably hear all of my silent insults and embarrassed thoughts thrown Bella’s way.

“It’s okay.” He murmurs, fingers carding through my hair and I just hum, letting my eyes flutter closed in contentment. I don’t care how quick this is happening, all I know is I need Edward and no-one else so I’ll live with the embarrassment if it means I can have Edward.

“You have me.”

┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

TAGS: New Tag List Form

Twilight Masterlist

#twilight #twilight x reader #twilight x you #twilight x y/n #twilight angst #twilight fluff #twilight smut #Edward cullen #Edward Cullen x reader #Edward cullen x you #Edward cullen smut #Edward cullen fluff #Edward cullen angst #edward cullen x y/n #edward cullen fanfiction #Robert pattinson

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rxmqnova · 2 months

Note

Could i asked for a ScarLizzie x daughter reader fic please?

Lizzie is finally introducing R to her girlfriend Scarlett for the first time. (Hectic filming schedules have gotten in the way of the three meeting up)

R is deaf and Scarlett has been learning sign language in secret and both mother and daughter are delighted.

Scarlett soon becomes R's favourite person (other than her mummy of course). "You're nicer than daddy".

Or something like that

Please and thank you 😊

Favorite person

Y/N: 7 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV The day has finally come. Lizzie's introducing her girlfriend to her little daughter.

Scarlett and Lizzie have been dating for nearly a year now. Lizzie wanted to be sure with her relationship before she would introduce Scarlett to her daughter and when she finally decided it's time, her hectic filming schedule just didn't allow it.

But it's here now and Y/N's going to meet the woman that won her mother's heart. Y/N's been super excited to meet her mommy's girlfriend. She knows a lot about Scarlett from Lizzie, even saw some pictures of her and it's finally about to happen.

One thing leaves Scarlett nervous though… Y/N doesn't hear. Ever since Lizzie told her she's been learning sign language. And to be honest, she's doing quite well, yet she's still a little nervous about it.

Y/N's currently in the living room, playing with her toys while Lizzie's finishing cooking dinner. Hearing the doorbell Lizzie goes to open, smiling at the sight of her daughter while walking around her.

Lizzie greets her girlfriend with a hug and a kiss before she leads her to the living room where the little troublemaker is.

As soon as Y/N notices a movement in the living room, she lifts her eyes from the ground, locking them with her mommy's girlfriend's.

Before Lizzie can start signing her daughter anything, Scarlett stops her.

"I'll do it" Scarlett smiles, taking a deep breath before looking at the tiny girl in front of her. "Hi, Y/N. I'm Scarlett. It's so nice to meet you" Scarlett signs, Y/N immediately smiling widely.

Y/N signs 'nice to meet you too' back, making Scarlett smile even more while Lizzie is completely shocked.

"Since when you know ASL?" Lizzie asks confused.

"I started learning when you told me about Y/N" Scarlett smiles and just this gesture makes Lizzie fall in love with the blonde even more.

Everything goes great, the three have dinner together, Y/N and Scarlett always smiling at each other when they lock eyes.

———

Scarlett has surely become Y/N's favorite person, beside her mommy of course, and even best friends over the time Scarlett's been coming over every now and then.

The little Olsen is one hundred percent sure that Scarlett is the best one for her mommy and that made Lizzie really happy when Y/N admitted it a few days ago.

Scarlett's over right now, watching Y/N and playing with her as Lizzie needed to leave to buy some groceries as the fridge is completely empty.

Somehow Y/N ends up sitting on Scarlett's lap while playing which the blonde doesn't mind at all. She loves Y/N as her own already and the fact that Y/N feels comfortable around her makes her happy.

All of a sudden Y/N looks up at the older woman, giving her an adorable smile which Scarlett returns.

"You're nicer than daddy" Y/N signs, warming Scarlett's heart while tears fill her eyes.

Y/N's father isn't the best, but also isn't the worst. He stops by every now and then to check up on his daughter, yet Y/N isn't as comfortable around him as she is around Scarlett.

Scarlett can't help but just pull the tiny girl in for a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. And once they pull away, she signs her response. "You're the sweetest little girl I've ever met. I love you, Y/N"

And she means every single word. Y/N really has a special place in her heart by now, just like Scarlett does in Y/N's.

"I love you too" Y/N smiles adorably, melting Scarlett's heart even more.

What they don't know is that Lizzie's already standing at the doorframe. She's seen the whole interaction and she couldn't be more happy.

Both girls notice when Lizzie approaches them, taking a seat next to them.

"I love you both so much" Lizzie smiles, saying it out loud while signing and making both of her girls smile widely before Y/N practically jumps into her mommy's arms to give her a cuddle and show her how much she loves her.

It's safe to say that Y/N's absolutely thrilled about her mommy having such an amazing girlfriend who's so far the best friend she's ever had, except for her mommy of course.

They surely have a bright time ahead of them and all three are more than excited to see what the future holds for them.

----------------------

ScarLizzie masterlist

Masterlist

#elizabeth olsen #scarlett johansson #elizabeth olsen daughter #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x female reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic #lizzie olsen #lizzie olsen x you #lizzie olsen x reader #lizzie x reader #scarlizzie #scarlett x reader #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson fanfiction #scarlett johansson daughter #fanfiction #fanfic

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i-woke-up-at-4am-for-this · 7 months

Text

Otter Neuvillette

Neuvillette x GN!Reader

Summary: There is one secret about Neuvillette that no one in Teyvat knows: he has the remarkable ability to shape-shift into a cute sea otter. This unique ability is a reflection of his deep connection to water and his desire for moments of solitude and peace.

One fateful day, as you collect data on plant species along the coast, you come across a disturbing scene. A lone sea otter, under attack by Fontemer Aberrant Crabs, struggles for its life.

A/N: This is my first time writing ^^

On an idyllic day in the tranquil Beryl Region, you were leisurely gathering data on the local plant species. The gentle rhythm of your exploration led you to the shoreline, where an unsettling sight unfolded before you. A lone sea otter, besieged by a group of menacing Fontemer Aberrant Crabs, fought desperately for its life. Without a second thought, you sprang into action, unaware that this seemingly ordinary otter concealed an extraordinary identity—the very Chief Justice of Fontaine, Monsieur Neuvillette himself.

Approaching the scene, you raised your voice to divert the crabs' attention away from the distressed otter. "Hey!" you shouted, flinging rocks towards the aggressors to protect the otter. As the crabs retreated into the ocean, you cautiously approached the otter, who had huddled into a protective ball, concealing its face with its paws. "Hey there, little buddy," you whispered soothingly, crouching down to its level and tenderly caressing its head. With gentle strokes, you comforted the otter, who responded with a soft chirp, its eyes filled with gratitude.

Concerned for the otter's well-being, you inquired, though fully aware that animals couldn't comprehend human language, "Where's your family, buddy?" However, your attention was soon drawn to the otter's wounded arm, a clear reminder of the recent struggle. "Oh, you poor thing," you sympathized, "Let me tend to your injuries before you swim back home." Scooping the otter gently into your arms, you made your way back to your nearby campsite, your heart touched by the vulnerable creature in your care.

Settling the otter on a soft blanket at your campsite, you meticulously cleansed its wounds with a clean cloth, offering solace and relief from its pain. The otter seemed to find comfort in your presence, nuzzling its body and face against your hands as you tenderly attended to its injuries.

"Are you hungry, little one?" you inquired, rummaging through your supplies and offering a raw fish. To your surprise, the otter seemed uninterested in the fish but eagerly eyed a plate of sandwiches you had prepared for dinner. "You prefer a tuna sandwich, perhaps?"

The otter's eyes widened with anticipation upon spotting the tuna sandwich, and it chirped with enthusiasm, extending a paw toward the plate, as if imploring you to share. With a warm smile, you obliged, offering the otter the prized sandwich, which it eagerly devoured. It was evident that this was a particular culinary delight for the otter.

Even after savoring its meal to satisfaction, the otter continued to nuzzle and seek your companionship, its eyes conveying a heartfelt desire to remain by your side. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soothing glow across the landscape, you contemplated the otter's silent plea, tempted to let it spend the night alongside you.

"Hmm... You still need time to heal," you mused, gently petting the otter, your fingers tracing its unique features, "Maybe you can sleep with me. It's dangerous for you to be out alone at night." While your heart longed to keep this adorable creature with you, your conscience reminded you of the importance of wildlife preservation. "Animals belong in the wild, and I think I could get into trouble if I keep one for myself," you sighed, resigned to your role as a temporary protector, "Oh well, I'm going to cuddle with you to my heart's content tonight, my little baby!" With that, you bestowed a gentle kiss upon the otter's fluffy cheek.

The otter responded with an affectionate nuzzle, its whiskers fluttering with delight. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you and the otter nestled against each other, lulled by the soothing sounds of the ocean.

Morning arrived, and you woke up feeling a weight on your chest. Groggily, your hand began to explore the unexpected presence, and you muttered, "Baby, you feel so heavy." Your eyes snapped open as your fingers encountered smooth, silky hair, not fur. To your astonishment, you discovered the Chief Justice, Monsieur Neuvillette, lying on your chest.

Gasping in disbelief, you opened your eyes to behold the Chief Justice, his supple body nestled within your embrace. His expression mirrored your shock, a deep shade of crimson flushing across his face. "Er... it's.... It's not what it looks like," he stammered, his gaze shifting away in embarrassment. He struggled to find words to explain the unexpected situation, his composure faltering. "I... um... I..."

Your cheeks burned with a mixture of confusion and embarrassment. "Monsieur Neuvillette? Why are you here?" you inquired, staring at the Chief Justice, utterly perplexed. He still appeared flustered, and you urged him to collect his thoughts.

Recalling that you had tended to an injured otter, not the Chief Justice, and not recalling any alcoholic consumption, a wild idea crossed your mind. "I know it sounds crazy, but... were you the otter I saved yesterday?"

The Chief Justice furrowed his brows, his face reddening. "Ah... you remember?" he admitted with a quiet sigh. "Yes, I was indeed the otter you saved yesterday." He confessed, his embarrassment palpable. "It was an accident. I thought I'd just transform briefly to calm myself down, not expecting you to actually..." He stuttered awkwardly.

It was a revelation beyond your wildest imagination—the typically stoic Chief Justice harboring such an adorable and unexpected secret. You couldn't help but chuckle softly to yourself. "It's fine; I only did what was right," you assured him. However, the proximity of his body atop yours was causing a different kind of fluster. "Um... Monsieur Neuvillette, do you need something to cover yourself?" You averted your gaze, your cheeks now sporting a deep blush, and it was then that you both realized the rather compromising position you were in.

With a light chuckle, Neuvillette acknowledged his state of undress, his own cheeks flushed. "Er... ah... y-yes, please," he replied, turning away to search for a cloth to preserve his modesty. Once found, he hastily draped it over himself, providing a semblance of cover. He let out a sigh of relief, rubbing the back of his neck, his nervousness still evident. "Ahem... th-thank you."

It became apparent that Monsieur Neuvillette had no immediate intention of returning to the Court of Fontaine. "You're welcome to stay here a bit longer until your injuries heal," you offered, extending a welcoming smile.

Neuvillette's expression softened, a small smile gracing his lips. "If it's alright with you… I'd like to stay a while longer to finish recovering, that is" he admitted, his tone still somewhat awkward. The allure of your tranquil campsite seemed to be drawing him in, despite his official duties.

You patted the makeshift bed, inviting him to join you, and Neuvillette accepted the gesture, his body sinking into the mattress. He smiled, letting out another sigh of relaxation as he gazed up at the sky. "It's remarkably peaceful here," Neuvillette remarked. "Much better than my office at the Court of Fontaine." He sighed deeply, a sense of calm enveloping him. Your proximity offered a sense of peace that contrasted starkly with his usual courtroom environment.

As you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around him, Neuvillette's heart raced with a strange mix of emotions. He felt both comforted and unsettled, unable to fully comprehend the feelings that had arisen within him. His eyes met the serene horizon, and he sighed, trying to make sense of it all.

"It's hard to believe that even in your non-otter form, you're still quite adorable, Monsieur Neuvillette," you whispered, closing your eyes and drifting back to sleep.

Neuvillette blushed once more, his heart pounding in his chest as he lay beside you. The warmth of your embrace filled him with both comfort and a newfound sense of vulnerability. He allowed himself to enjoy the moment, not fully comprehending the depth of his feelings. As he closed his eyes and drifted into slumber once more, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held for this unexpected connection.

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #genshin impact #neuvillette fluff #my writing #i havent post anything in here in years so don't be surprised with my old fandom #neuvillette x you #genshin

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deluluwrites · 9 months

Text

Florist!Barbie x Ken

✨Part 2

🌸💖🌷��💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐

Once upon a time in the colorful world of BarbieLand, there was a lovely Barbie named Florist Barbie. She had her own little flower shop, “Blooms and Petals," filled with beautiful blossoms of all colors and varieties.

Every day, the doll inhabitants of BarbieLand would come to her shop to buy flowers for their loved ones, and Florist Barbie would take pride in arranging the most enchanting bouquets for them.

Unlike the other Barbie dolls, Florist Barbie had a unique passion for flowers, and her shop was known for its enchanting arrangements and delightful fragrances.

However, there was something that set her apart from the rest of the Barbies in town - there was a hint of sadness in her eyes because, unlike many other Barbies, she didn't have a Ken of her own.

Every day, like clockwork, Stereo Ken strolled into "Blooms and Petals" to buy a bouquet for Stereo Barbie, the girl of his dreams.

Florist Barbie couldn't help but feel a pang of longing whenever she saw them together, as she secretly harbored feelings for Stereo Ken.

Stereo Ken was dashing, with his perfectly coiffed hair and chiseled features. He came to “Blooms and Petals” every morning to buy flowers for Stereo Barbie.

Every morning as Stereo Ken walked into her shop. She'd watch him carefully as he perused the blooms, helping him choose the most meaningful flowers that he believed would win Stereo Barbie's heart.

Florist Barbie's stomach would flutter uncontrollably as she admired Ken from afar, secretly pining for his affection. She knew she could never reveal her feelings, for she feared it would ruin their friendship and Ken's admiration for her floral expertise.

Despite her own longing for him, Florist Barbie couldn't resist helping him. She knew she was trapped in a bittersweet situation where she had to be the silent supporter of his romantic pursuit.

One day, Stereo Ken entered the shop, looking a bit troubled. "Hey, Barbie," he greeted her with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Hey, Ken, What brings you in today?" she replied with a warm smile. “I need your help," Ken admitted, glancing around the shop nervously. "I want to get the perfect flowers for Barbie today. I've been trying so hard to win her heart, but I just feel like I'm not good enough for her."

Florist Barbie's heart sank, "Ken, you are an amazing person," she said sincerely, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are kind, thoughtful, and caring. Anyone would be lucky to have you."

Ken sighed, "I don't know. Barbie is so perfect, and I feel like I can never measure up to her expectations." Florist Barbie felt a mix of sympathy and frustration.

She wanted to tell him that he deserved someone who appreciated him for who he was, but she couldn't reveal her true feelings. Instead, she focused on helping him find the perfect flowers for Barbie.

"Let's pick out some flowers with special meanings," she suggested, leading him through the shop. "How about these roses? They represent love and admiration, which perfectly captures your feelings for Barbie."

Ken nodded, his face brightening a little. "That sounds good. What else?" Florist Barbie went to another display, “Oooh! Lilies, represent purity and devotion, which can be perfect if you want to show your sincerity.”

She went to another display and picked some more flowers, “Or these Orchids could signify beauty and admiration, which is an ideal choice to convey your admiration for her grace. And then, there are the sunflowers, symbolizing warmth and happiness, a great way to express the joy she brings into your life."

Ken listened intently to her words, nodding slowly. "Those are all wonderful choices, Barbie. But you know what I just realized? Aren't all these your favorite too?"

Florist Barbie blushed, unable to hide her secret any longer. "Well, yes, they are," she admitted, her voice a soft whisper. "I find beauty and meaning in all of them. But enough about me, let's focus on helping you choose the perfect bouquet for Barbie."

They continued their search, and Florist Barbie carefully selected a bouquet that conveyed love, admiration, sincerity, warmth, and happiness, hoping that Stereo Barbie would see the depth of Ken's affection.

As Ken hurriedly gathered the bouquet, he turned to Florist Barbie with a grateful smile. "Thanks for all your help, Barbie. I don't know what I would have done without you. You're such a good friend."

Florist Barbie's heart sank as she forced a weak smile in return. "You're welcome, Ken. I'm glad I could assist you. I hope Barbie loves the flowers."

Ken nodded enthusiastically, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil within Florist Barbie's heart. "I'm sure she will. They're perfect, just like you always say."

With that, he dashed out of the flower shop, leaving Florist Barbie standing there, feeling the weight of heartbreak and unrequited love.

She watched him go, struggling to keep her composure, "That's what I do, Barbie," she sighs whispering to herself, forcing a smile. "I help others find happiness even if it's not with me."

🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐

The next day, BarbieLand was buzzing with excitement as Stereo Barbie announced she was hosting a Big Blowout Party.

Florist Barbie was attending the event, feeling a mix of excitement and sadness. She chatted with her friend Allan, who could see the longing in her eyes whenever Ken was mentioned.

Ken approached them, looking anxious. "Hey, Barbie. Allan. Can I talk to you for a moment?" Allan looked at Florist Barbie curiously. "Sure, Ken. What's on your mind?" Florist Barbie tried to appear composed, even though her heart was racing as she replied almost instantly.

"I'm thinking of asking Barbie(Stereo) to dance tonight. Do you think she'd say yes?" he asked, nervously running his hand through his perfectly coiffed hair and scratching his neck nervously.

“Well I think-“ Allan begins wanting to give his buddy advice but Florist Barbie musters smile and interrupts. "Absolutely, Ken. You should go for it! I'm sure she'd love to dance with you."

Ken thanks them giving Florist Barbie his wine goblet joining the dance floor leaving Florist Barbie feeling a mixture of happiness for him and deep sorrow within herself.

Allan, seeing her distress, took her aside. "Barbie, you can't keep this to yourself any longer. You need to tell Ken how you feel."

She sighs throwing the goblet behind her, "I can't, Allan. It's too painful. I'll only end up losing his friendship too."

Allan placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You deserve to be happy too, Barbie. You never know how Ken might feel about you if you don't confess. Take a chance, or you'll always wonder what could have been."

Despite Allan's words, Florist Barbie left the party heartbroken. She found solace near a shimmering pink water fountain. Sitting alone, she felt a deep pain in her heart as she stared at her reflection in the plastic water.

Suddenly, to her shock, a human-like tear trickled down her porcelain cheek. "What is happening to me?" she wondered in astonishment. Shocked, she touched her face, wondering how such a thing was possible. Little did she know that her genuine emotions and the depth of her feelings had brought her to life in a way she had never experienced before.

Part 2….?

#ryan gosling #barbie movie #ken x reader #im just ken #ryan gosling ken #barbie 2023 #just ken #ken barbie #barbie #ryan gosling x reader #ken x you #ken x y/n #barbie and ken #and ken #kenergy #you are kenough #i am kenough #he is kenough

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cherryheartssblog · 2 months

Text

SECRET ADMIRER

Summary: Y/N’s family is a wealthy family, her parents snub up their noses to a lot of people. When throwing a party, Y/N soon figured out she has a secret admirer, that her parents would never approve of.

Warnings: 18+, smut, wealthy family!, higher class neighborhood families!, country clubs!, fake business!, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is in forties), drinking!, readers curves are mentioned!, daddy kink! daddy issues, slight! mommy issues!, rough sex, reader is in college!, readers parents are snobs!, spanking!, pet names (sweetheart, my girl, etc.), daddy kink!, choking!, dirty talk!, domjoel!, joel calls reader slut!, public sex!(kind of), talks of spoiled reader!, mentions of divorce!, Joel has no kids!, cursing!, little angst!, rich! Joel, praise kink!, crying!,body shaming (if you squint), readers parents are assholes!, mentions of sugar daddies!, reader is girly!, reader wears dresses and girly clothing!, parents do not like Joel!, doggy style! (beside a mirror)- just wait, and not fully edited.

A/N: I have only wrote a Joel miller one shot once. So I’m trying again, a little bit more deeper. I do hope you enjoy! PLEASE tell me if I missed any warnings/ need to add them nicely! I’m trying to get better with them! THANK you so much and I’m so thankful for you all💝😭!!

Could this be any more depressing?

Y/N sunglasses perched atop her nose. Her tennis skirt, adorned with a matching polo, tastefully covered her mid-thigh, Out from the patio, her father's buddies could be seen sipping their beers and playing golf at her parents' exclusive country club.

Y/N and her mother were seated at a comfortable distance from the patio of the country club, accompanied by their friends. They were indulging in a delightful brunch and sipping on mimosas to enhance their experience. The clinking of glasses and laughter filled the air as they chatted away, oblivious to their surroundings.

Oh, this was depressing.

Y/N sat at the dinner table, pushing her food around her plate with her fork. Her sunglasses covered her eyes, but now and then, she couldn't resist stealing a glance at the man sitting across from her. He was a frequent visitor to their home and a country club member. He is always ready with a kind word and a helping hand to Y/N. However, Y/N knew that her father despised him. Whenever they were back home, her father would rant about the man who lived just a few houses down the street. Y/N couldn't help but wonder when her father's hatred had begun and what he saw in the man that she couldn't.

Joel fucking Miller.

He was older than her, and maybe she was drawn to that. He was a beautiful older male, and she could not help but take a second glance when he moved in a couple of years ago. Y/N was at home for college for the summer, and this older man came by in an older truck after being invited to a barbecue that her parents still could not shut up about to this day.

If he has money, he needs a better car.

No wonder his wife left him.

Y/N's parents were not always kind to him. However, once they discovered he was a skilled mechanic with a successful business in town and their precious white Cadillac was not running, they started to warm up to him, even if it wasn't genuine. Y/N's parents were known to be fake and gossip behind people's backs. Despite their rocky relationship, Y/N loved her parents because they gave her everything she wanted. She was spoiled and had a large room upstairs in their house, as well as her room at the country club.

Y/N parents were having their wedding anniversary celebration. Her mother had meticulously planned an elegant and formal party, which was exactly what she had envisioned. Y/N's father, on the other hand, would have preferred to keep it simple. However, he knew how much this occasion meant to his wife, so he agreed to follow her plans. Y/N was well aware that her father would have done the same for her if she had played the perfect daughter role, just like her mother expected her to.

Y/N’s trance was broken, her eyes shifting from the attractive older male in a darker polo with shorts. Why does this man look good in shorts? Y/N tried to maintain a smile with her mother, her eyes being covered with shades. “Are you going to eat, dear?” Her mother picked up fruit, her mothers friends eyes shifted to her. Her mothers three closest friends, were worse than her mom to say the least.

Maybe they rubbed off on her.

Y/N’s mother's attitude could switch with any of them in any moment. The younger woman’s reddened face was luckily covered, pushing her shades up. “Yes, Mother, just not too hungry this morning.” Y/N was not lying, and she could not get an appetite. Her mind was wandering, and her eyes could not move from Joel.

He swung his golf club repeatedly, practicing his hit while Y/N’s father played his shot. From what Y/N could see of the game, Joel was at least beating her father. Y/N wondered if her father was jealous of this man; maybe that's where his hatred came from. She could have swore his eyes would move to her stares, maybe gawking at her. Y/N knew she was too far away where he would notice her stares, but she could still see his perfect features.

His hair was longer, curler. Joel had his own pair of shades, grabbing another beer from the cooler on the golf cart. Y/N’s eyes would shift back and forth to her plate, slowly saying the food on her plate.

“Don't wanna overeat, love,” one of her mother's friends opened up, “Still have to fit in that dress in a couple of days.” She playfully sent a wink to Y/N while the four of them giggled right in front of her. Y/N shifted uncomfortably; she fought the water behind her eyes that wanted to escape. Her mother even shrugged it off with a laugh, giving Y/N a few fruit pieces.

“Here sweetie, eat fruit.”

Y/N could only nod, desperately wanting to leave the table. She came home for the summer, she hoped this summer would be better than the rest. She might have been better off going with her friends on their beach trip. But Joel could be an escape for her.

He was an escape, but Y/N wanted more. She knew she needed more, she craved more. When Joel moved in a couple years ago, becoming a member of the country club he took a liking in to woman. She was different than her parents, she seemed like sweet angel. Joel had been lonely for awhile, being married to his work ratber than looking for love.

Joel couldn't shake off the regret that had been gnawing at him ever since his ex-wife left him. Deep down, he knew it was because he didn't give her the attention she deserved. He had taken her love for granted, assuming that she would always be there for him. But as things turned out, she had reached her breaking point and left him.

From that day on, Joel promised he would never make the same mistake again. He was determined to treat his next partner like a queen, giving her all the attention and love she deserved. And then he met Y/N.

At first, he couldn't believe someone as young and beautiful as her would be interested in him. But as they got to know each other better, Joel realized that Y/N maybe shared the same interest in him. He saw in her the perfect partner he had been searching for, and he was ready to give his all to her.

Y/N finally managed to excuse herself from the table and went to the bathroom. She quickly pulled her shades up and tucked them into her hair, hoping her eyes didn't betray her emotions. Despite her efforts to keep it together, tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. She couldn't help feeling foolish for letting her guard down and allowing herself to be hurt. The urge to cry was so overwhelming that she had to bite her lip to keep from breaking down completely.

The woman's bathroom was luckily empty; she locked it behind her, covering her face instantly. No tears fell; she just kept breathing in and out. Y/N considered going to her room; she did not want her mother's friends to win. She went over to the tall mirrors; lights shined behind them.

In the mirror, Y/N saw a few mascara smears cleaning her face a bit. Having her purse in hand, she grabbed for makeup powder to cover up any spots she may have made. Gathering herself together, she got back out of the bathroom in the lobby. Y/N closed up her purse, bumping straight into a taller figure. Feeling hands gripping her, she made eye contact with no other than Joel.

His eyes sparked, meeting hers; Y/N gasped, feeling his grip tighten on her arms. “Woah, hun.” Joel drawled, a smile plastering his face, “I was just thinkin’ of ya.” His hands moving from her, Y/N blushed, trying to gather herself. Her own eyes could not move from his; she gave him a warm smile.

“Thinkin’ of little ole’ me?” Y/N teased, perking up a little bit. Joel's eyes shifted up her bare legs to the pink polo with two buttons open, exposing her chest. She looked so perfect; Joel knew he would worship her body if he ever could have her. His mouth parted, his smirk growing, watching the younger woman bite her lip. Y/N’s teeth dug deeper into her lips than could draw blood, not caring about the eyes that could be on them.

“Oh, any man would be crazy not to think of you, sugar.” Joel’s southern accent drawled out, sending shivers down Y/N’s spine. He was making her speechless and trying to maintain her confidence, gazing around her to see if any eyes moved their way.

“Are you trying to flirt with me, Mr. Miller?” Y/N’s curiosity rose; her father's voice broke Joel and her time.

Y/N's father chuckled warmly as he stood beside his daughter. The man's eyes followed Joel's movements, but he soon shook it off and turned to meet his daughter's gaze. "There's my angel," he said affectionately. "Your mother is looking for you, and she invited you on the shopping trip." Y/N smiled gracefully and exchanged some words with her father. Joel observed her curiously, noticing how her eyes sparkled as she talked to her dad. However, when Y/N's father walked away, Joel's demeanor changed. He grabbed her roughly and pulled her back to him, causing Y/N's stomach to drop as she saw his previously lighter eyes grow darker.

Y/N’s father is too far to notice back out to the open patio of Joel's hands on his daughter. Y/N gasped out, her knees bending down keeping her from falling. Joel’s grip was strong and he would not let Y/N fall.

“What you been cryin’ about?”

How the hell did he know?

Y/N's jaw dropped in disbelief, eagerly awaiting her response. His eyebrow lifted in anticipation, while his eyes narrowed in a curious 'hm' when she remained silent. Without saying a word, he motioned for her to follow him outside, leaving her stunned. Her breathing was increased, and tension still filled the air for her.

Joel was one of her father's enemies. And she wanted to fuck him, and she wanted more than just that. Joel kept giving her the same vibe as well. Y/N wanted the older male, all her thoughts and dreams consumed by him.

He is just a friend.

Y/N tried to tell herself that.

The dress was unbelievably tight, keeping modesty for the occasion; the dress was long, hugging Y/N’s curves. Y/N spent her time trying to escape from her parent's friends, listening to them gossip all about each other.

Y/N let out a deep groan of frustration and signaled the bartender for another drink at the open bar. The overly formal ambiance and the sound of the classical music made her feel nauseous and uneasy. She had lost track of her parents and had not seen them since the speeches a couple of hours ago. As the bartender began to make her drink, she watched intently, observing each step of the process with intense focus.

Y/N savored the salty taste of the olive before gulping down the drink like a parched desert traveler. Sitting alone at the bar, she contemplated leaving early to indulge in the tub and cozy up in bed. The alcohol was starting to kick in, and the bartender slid a napkin towards her.

The bartender, an older woman with a friendly smile, approached Y/N with a small slip of paper. "A man told me to give this to you and buy you a drink as well," she said, gesturing towards the note. Y/N's curiosity was piqued as she took the slip of paper, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she read the few words scrawled on it. "Seems like you got a secret admirer," the bartender remarked with a chuckle, noticing Y/N's puzzled expression.

meet me upstairs @ 11.

Y/N's mind wandered briefly, “I'll make you that other drink, dear.” The older woman took her glass, chucking momentarily, “Seems like a good one to me.” Y/N smiled, holding the napkin, waiting for the drink this mysterious man bought for her. Her eyes scanned around her, her thoughts making her blush.

She hoped and leaned towards it being Joel, but she had not even seen him at the party. Maybe he decided not to come? I mean he did not owe her to come, Joel barley liked her parents. Y/N glanced down at her watch, in been couple hours since the party had started.

10:42PM

Y/N's heart raced as she contemplated whether or not to meet the mysterious man waiting for her upstairs. The exclusive parties had strict security measures in place, but she was confident that she could slip past unnoticed. Only she and her parents had unrestricted access to the upper floors, yet this stranger had somehow found a way to reach her. The thrill of the unknown pulsed through her veins as she considered the possibilities.

11:01PM

Y/N walked anxiously down the hallway, having convinced the security to leave her alone by pretending to retreat to her bedroom. She paced back and forth, biting her nails as she waited for someone to emerge from around the corner. Eventually, she heard footsteps growing closer and stopped, anticipating the stranger's arrival.

The anticipation built up inside her as the footsteps drew closer. Y/N's eyes were glued to the man dressed in all black, with a crisp white shirt tucked into his tight pants. Even before locking eyes with him, Y/N knew exactly who it was. He leaned against the wall with a lit cigarette hanging off his lips, his free hand casually tucked into his pocket. He observed the young woman standing before him, and the air was charged with excitement and tension.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Y/N faked her confidence; her mother always said, ‘Fake it til you make it.’ The woman's eyes scanned over him. She felt like she could undress him with her eyes. The cigarette on his lips made him hotter in that suit he wore. She never thought she'd see Joel Miller wear a suit. But, God did he look good in that suit. Y/N eyes met back up with his, puffing out smoke.

“Y’know, we have a no smoking rule.” Y/N teased, walking closer to him. Joel stayed in place, not moving an inch, letting her draw closer to him. When meeting up with him, she grabbed the cigarette from his mouth. Standing on her tiptoes to reach his height, he smirked, watching down at her. Y/N brought it to her lips, slightly puffing, blowing a small cloud. Joel’s face twitched, his hands wrapped around her throat, pushing her against the wall behind her.

“You just broke one of the rules,” Joel growled, the tension angering him more. His nose pressed against her cheek, his hand gripping her throat. Y/N whimpered; her eyes stayed closed, listening to his voice. “I've broken a lot of rules, Joel,” Y/N admitted; she breathed out, fighting the grip he had around her throat. Joel still pressed against her, and Y/N felt his member grow pressed against her, “Guess you'll have to punish me.”

Joel groaned out, grabbing her face and forcing Y/N to look at him. Her cheeks squished underneath his rough hands. Y/N felt her underwear grow wet, her thighs wanting to rub together. She craved this older man for so long, Y/N moaned out, melted underneath his touch. “Where's your room, baby?” Y/N’s legs could go weak by his words, and she could only point. He was quick to have her off the floor, wrapped around him, pushing her into her room, slamming her against the door that slammed it shut.

His kiss was rough and hungry against her lips.

Joel’s cock strained against his already tight pants as he stood amazed by her. Trailing kisses down her exposed chest, his hands sneaking up her dress. He swallowed as Y/N held on to the door behind her. Y/N arched her back, moaning out, digging her hands into his hair. Her hands messed up his hair, and the mirror attached to the door was becoming stained with fingerprints.

“Didn’t think you’d be into an old man like me,” he said with a chuckle. Joel pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, making her gasp. He moved them to the nearest wall, having them perfectly angled to the mirror that he just had her pressed against. Y/N unbuttoned his shirt. His hands unzipped to move her dress off of her.

“You're not old, Joel,” Y/N assured him, sending him a surge of confidence, “Besides, I like older guys.” Joel chuckled at her comment, turning her back to face him. Her face pressed against the wall; she glanced up at the mirror.

She looked rough.

Her hair was a mess, and her cheeks were stained red. Y/N dress was now on her bedroom floor, Joel fighting with his belt and with his other free hand using it to have it wrapped around her throat. Pressing her against his own body, she moaned out, feeling his bare, warm body. Y/N pushed back on him, feeling his tip tease her entrance.

His laugh was dark; Joel gripped her chin, turning her to make herself look in the mirror once more. “Look at how pretty you are,” Joel murmured, his southern accent thicker as he thrust into her without warning. Y/N felt herself stretch open, watching them in the mirror beside them as she gripped the wall she was against.

“You’re just daddy’s slut aren’t you.” Joel gripped her throat tighter, which turned her on even more. He slapped her ass, causing her to whimper out, “Better be quiet; don't want your family to figure out how much of a slut you are.”

Y/N’s breaths were heavy, his free fingers strumming over the swollen bump of her clit, pulling moans from her throat. A smirk grew on his face at her desperate expression. His breathing matched hers as his thrusts got sloppier. Y/N’s body was tense, her hands falling behind him, pulling on his curls. “Relax, sweetheart.” Joel’s big hand slid up and down her curved spine.

Their bodies became sweaty, sticking together Y/N could feel herself get closer as he sped up on her clit. She could hardly breathe, she had never taken a cock this big, but she was too impatient to wait for him to stretch her out on his fingers. Y/N was whining and moaning as his hands clenched against her throat, keeping her looking in the mirror.

“You're mine; I'll be whatever you want me to be, baby,” Joel groaned, moaning out in pleasure himself, “Hell, I'll be your sugar daddy.” Y/N felt sweat drip down her forehead, letting out a laugh croaking out with a moan behind it. Her hand rested on his shoulders, feeling that familiar feeling grows in her stomach.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” Joel said, his voice muffled as his mouth pressed against her neck. Each thrust coaxed a gasp from her; she had her nails digging into the fabric of the wall. Y/N’s vision was blurry from the overwhelming tears brimming her eyes. “Come around, my cock,” Joel commanded, his words making everything intensify.

“Oh god, Daddy,” she gasped, shaking head to toe. “Joel, I’m—yes, yes, yes-.” Joel was not far behind her, her eyes watching him cum inside her. Joel's lips drug down her cheek, releasing his load into her.

Tears stained her cheeks as he turned her to face him, wiping them away. “That's the only time you need to cry, my girl.” Joel kissed the top of her forehead, clearly out of breath, still holding her up. Her legs were like jello getting over to her bed, cuddling beside Joel underneath the thick sheets.

“My parents would kill you if they figured this out.” Y/N laughed out, which warmed his chest as she laid there. His arms wrapped around her, running his fingers through her hair, sharing a laugh.

“Be glad I don't kill your parents for makin’ you cry like that.” Y/N knew Joel knew that day she had cried. She locked eyes with him briefly, and he tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. Y/N still rested on his chest, her nails gently rubbing up and down.

“Guess I got my Secret admirer to take care of me.”

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #smutjoelmiller #joelmillerxreadersmut #joelmillerfanficsmut #pedro pascal as joel miller #joelsmutseries #joelsmutau

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heliiacus · 2 months

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reflections

tags: armin x reader, reader is an artist, reader uses she/her pronouns, takes place during the tent party in marley, mutual crushing, drunk confession

warnings: inebriation

words: 2.4k

★ Tucked into the corner of a drunken party, drawing a secret of your own, Armin finds you; more importantly, he finds a reflection of him on paper, crafted carefully by your hands, and you do not even try to resist his plea to let him see.

★ Or the one in which Armin has terrible alcohol metabolism, your heart comes this much closer to a stroke, and an intervention is required to resolve the mess that comes to.

He'd been so silent. Akin to a mouse. By the time she noticed him, quiet and solemn, towering over her shoulder, the drawing had been almost finished.

And he was staring at it. At her.

She didn't even have time to yelp in surprise. Her body froze when she saw him, his shadow spreading like ink over her journal, and an odd sort of shock coiled through her muscles as she looked back. Heat sinking into her cheeks, breath stuttering, she felt herself grasp at the leatherbind in her hands, so tightly it almost hurt.

Watching him now, staring back at him, she doesn't say anything. He stands there, one shoulder leaning his weight on the wooden frame of the tent, and she knows he can see her skin grow flushed.

In truth, she shouldn't have startled this much. She knows that. He always does this. He always finds her, no matter where she may hide.

Finally, voice deliberately slow and eyes cast down at her, he tells her: "I feel like I should apologise."

She opens her mouth. She thinks to say – what? To admonish him? She thinks to snap her journal shut, or to leave with an indignation. But there he stands still, watching her with that darling, repentant glint in his eye, and who is she to stay mad at him, or to grow upset with him in the first place? She simply sighs, waving her hand at him, waiting for him to sit beside.

"I'm sorry," he says, smile all sheep and no teeth, and she scoots over for him. "I noticed you were gone, and–"

"–And you went ahead to try and find me–"

"–And then I saw you here, drawing your heart away. I thought to call out, and, well.." His eyes cast down, lingering on the drawing laying helplessly in her lap. "I'm sorry." He looks back in her eyes, face earnest and shoulders tight. "I know how private you are about your drawings, I know I should have asked."

She can't help the sigh that leaves her. Looking at him, feeling him press against her shoulder so tentatively, she really can't be upset with him – even if she tried. "It's fine."

And he knows this. Of course he does. Armin grins at her, bordering on something someone else could call impish. "Am I forgiven?"

"Don't push your luck," she warns, and he laughs, loud and indelicate, and it sounds so delightful that she can't help but laugh with him, filled with an odd murmuration within her heart at how close he is sitting to her.

Then his eyes linger on the drawing again, and she can tell he tries to be subtle about it, or to resist it. She pushes the journal into his lap, his eyelashes fluttering with a soft panic. "You don't have to," he murmurs, his fingers curling delicately around the edge of the leather.

"It's okay," she tells him, just as gently. "You can look. You've already seen the most of it anyway."

And he does. This time, with a careful hold and a soft, with an amused smile curling at the edge of his lips, he looks at it unabashedly, eyes roving through the lines. "If I ask, will you tell me?" He asks, tone playful, outshined by the happy flush on his cheeks, and he chuckles when she sighs.

She thinks about lying. She wonders, for a moment, if it would be the best course of action. But he does not look back at her as she thinks to herself; instead, he looks ahead, at the journal in his hands, over and over, as if it were magical, or something he wanted – needed, desperately – to commit to memory. So instead, timidly, she admits: "You looked so happy. I couldn't let it pass by. I wanted to save it." And even as she says it, so awfully earnest and open, she thinks perhaps she should have kept her mouth shut. She feels breathless, almost vulnerable as she sees him close the journal shut at her words, as she watches him raise his eyes and look at her, eyes wide and simmering with something that she can't quite read. Then she watches, panicked, as his lips part, as he inhales, words ready on the precipice of his tongue, so instead she tells him: "You can look through the rest."

He blinks at her. Her words swim and sink into him, and then he is closer to her, so much closer, loud and exuberant. Clutching tightly at the journal, he asks her: "Really? I can see?"

Her heart skips a beat. Loathe as she may, it does; for a moment, he is so close she can smell the sweet wine on his breath. Watching the spark burst and sizzle in his gaze, she feels her panic die, dragging her hesitation with it. "Of course you can," she finds herself breathing out, watching, with a private, quiet satisfaction, as he pulls her journal open with that sheer, pulsating delight.

And he does. He does look. Fingers ghosting reverently over each page, she watches as his joy changes, morphing into a strange sort of awe that has his eyes transfixed on each stroke of her pencil. His hands follow the lines, some more delicate than others, but he never touches them, not once. She can see it in the way he holds the corners of each page; he is wary of them, of tarnishing them, as if his touch could somehow ruin them, despite the charcoal and graphite having been smudged by the years of wear already.

"You drew all of them," he breathes then, taking her back to the reality before her. "All of them. Ymir, Reiner, Berthold. Annie. Even Erwin." He flips another page, his chest rising heavily as he inhales, a quiet reverie passing between them as he flips and flips the pages, the reflections of their peers and their seniors, the dead and the living, staring back at him – at the both of them. "None of them knew, did they?"

"Annie caught me once," she admits, pulling her knees to her chest. "Made me show her. I think she liked it."

He chuckles. He doesn't look back at her, flipping through the pages slowly and attentively. She continues to watch him, too: feeling brazen, bold, as if she were taking something in return, a sort of penance for allowing him to have this. It stretches and stretches, this quiet exchange, until he pauses, swiftly and suddenly. It is an odd pause, a stretching one, and she knows what he sees. He doesn't say it, he hasn't once this whole time – but she knows.

"I remember this," he says eventually, lingering on the page. "Six years ago. In Trost."

She hums in response. As the man sits by her side, enveloped in the years of graphite she has put down into these pages, his reflection as a boy from six years back looks back at him, smiling wide and bright. This one, it used to be a favourite of hers. In a way, it still is.

She tries not to blush, or to begin explaining herself. She wonders if he will say it –– if he will ask her, finally, if he will wonder out loud why her journal is filled not just with their friends, but with him; him, and him, over and over again, hiding in every nook and cranny of the paper she had once felt too treasured to tarnish with her drawings. He had not said it yet, but there he is now, paused mid–journal and staring without a word.

She waits for it; she thinks she is ready for it. But he doesn't say a word. He turns to her, smiling kindly, softly, and instead of curiosity she sees a sadness in his eyes, deep–rooted and strange and almost sorrowful, and it is all that takes for her heart to flip upside down.

"What's wrong?" She asks, hand steady on his elbow, and he only blinks at her in return.

His gaze falls. He looks down, face growing even more somber, and looking at him like this, she almost grows desperate. She waits, hand unwavering on his arm, and eventually he tells her: "I look so much happier. In your drawings. I guess it's just.. Odd. An odd feeling, that is. A lot has changed."

She wishes she could erase it. Take the pain from his voice, spread white paint over it until it is gone, until it is sparkling clean and bright.

She knows she can't. She can't do that – neither would he allow it. So instead, she scoots closer, leaning her side into his. They sit in silence, and she feels a warmth undulate from him; one she tries to not think of, to ignore, until she feels his head lean on hers, heavy and weighted.

Her hand travels to the page he's on. It ghosts over her drawing, watching the boy memorialised in it with the man beside her.

"I think that can be said about the lot of us," she says quietly, and he sighs, his breath stuttering in his lungs. "All of us have gone through changes. I see it. Perhaps they don't, but they're all here. All versions of them." She traces her finger over his hair, a deep gray within the page. "Including you." For a moment, they are silent. Her hand on the page, his own at the edge of it, untouching. "Why'd you cut your hair?" She asks quietly, wondering out loud, suffocating from the feeling of him so close, so warm – his hand just out of her reach, tracing the edge of her journal.

For a time, he doesn't reply. He leans on her, and he is so heavy, so quiet, that she thinks he may have fallen asleep, driven to exhaustion by the excitement and the drinks.

Then he tells her, so softly, so weakly: "Don't laugh."

"Of course not."

He does not pull away when he tells her why. He stays leaning on her, hiding his face from her, his breath hitching quietly once in a while, as if he were short of breath. "I thought I could be more like him. Erwin. If I'd cut my hair, if I wore my uniform like he did, if I talked more like him. I think, I.. I think a part of me feels indebted in a way I can't really repay. So I've got to, you know.. Fill his shoes. Make up for it. Something."

"Armin," she begins softly, leaning away, looking to turn towards him, reach to him, and then she freezes, muscles tight as she sees the tears streaming down his cheek, the skin red and blotchy.

"I.. I don't know. It's stupid. Fuck." Did she hear that right? "I know. I know, that's not how it works." He brings his hands to his eyes, pressing deep, urging his eyes to stop.

She flusters. Pulling herself straight, she crawls to him, her hand closing around his wrist. "Armin–"

"It's so stupid," he interrupts her, and she sees it now – the dragging of his breath, the red sheen on his skin; he looks at her, eyes wide and glistening, tears never–ending.

"Armin, that's not.. How much have you had to drink? Armin," she calls, wiping at his tears, and he sniffles, and then he hiccups, honest to Rose. "Oh, Armin," she says, cooing desperately, pained at the sight of the boy in front of her.

Armin is drunk. Armin is drunk, and now he is clutching at her hand, and he is weeping into it, words incoherent and slurred through the tears and the alcohol that must be hitting him belatedly, over and over and over again.

And she thinks it will be that, she thinks it will fizzle out; his cries will soon ebb, and he'll tire himself out, and until then she will stay here, wiping his tears, letting him hold onto her hand as tightly as he needs – even if it's bruising.

But he has other plans. Of course, this is Armin; when are his plans orthodox?

He pulls at her, both hands in his grasp, and he is looking up at her now, eyes wide and pleading. "I didn't even thank you. I'm sorry. Your drawings are so pretty." She can't think. He is so close to her once more, and her heart is going rabid, wild at the sight of him like this. She can't even wipe his tears, not with both hands in his hold. "And you're so pretty," he cries more, small, pitiful wails shaking his entire frame.

"What?" She squeaks out, embarrassed and out of her wits, and it takes all of her self–restraint to not scream bloody murder when a crack echoes through the tent, the cloth dividing them from the rest pulled open.

"What the bloody walls is going on here?" Eren asks, laughter bubbling out of him.

In mere seconds Mikasa is towering over the both of them, eyes cast in a glare that makes her whole skin crawl with a panic, and before she can even open her mouth to say a single word, she feels Armin tug at her tighter, crying out the woman's name.

"Mikasa," he sobs, cheeks glistening and tongue stumbling over itself. "Mikasa, she's so nice to me. Did you know? She's.." she watches as Mikasa sighs, kneeling to try and peel Armin’s desperate hands from her. The man sniffles in return, refusing to let go. "She's so pretty!" He cries out.

Mikasa curses, putting effort into prying his hands off, and Eren laughs and laughs, scarlet in the cheeks. "You had to get piss drunk to finally tell her that?" He bursts out, bending down in hysterics.

"Armin, I swear.. I didn't raise you to be like this," Mikasa says, hauling the crying boy over her shoulder with an impressive force. Then the woman turns to her, cheeks red not in amusement but in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry," she says, looking over her with care.

"No! It's fine," she replies, standing quickly. "I mean– Mikasa, I think you really need to put him down. Like, right now. Immediately. Mika–"

"Ohhh," comes a thin wail. "I'm going to be.. I'm gonna be sick."

"Mikasa–"

"Oh, walls."

#armin arlert #armin fanfiction #armin x reader #armin x you #armin fluff #armin aot #attack on titan x reader #aot headcanons #attack on titan x you #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren jaeger #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x you #mikasa ackerman #fanfiction #my writing

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writing-relatedactivities · 5 months

Text

A Very Ask A Manager Thanksgiving

So I love advice blogs (I maintain that comment sections on advice blogs are the best free tool for writers to explore different viewpoints, which really enriches your characterization), and for a few years now, I have had this idea that I want to do a do an Ask A Manager themed dinner, purely to delight myself. Meant to do it as a cookout this summer, but timing never worked out, so I broached the idea of doing it for Thanksgiving. My partner, who is also a nerd and therefore very supportive of my advice blog love even though it is not one of their interests, was down, with their only condition being that I should still make my cider bread with maple butter.

The menu:

Appetizers

Chips with:

Guacamole in honor of Guacamole Bob, of "ordering extra guacamole is wasteful of member dues” fame. (This being on the menu may also have been a factor in Partner being willing to have our holiday take on an Ask A Manager theme, as I once took a community education course on grilling that taught me nothing about its ostensible subject matter but did teach me to make a bomb-ass guacamole. The secret is that your first step should be to pulverize an entire head of garlic into a paste in your mocajete.)

Three store bought salsas, where the trick is to "fold" the salsa to get the best flavor

A bottle of hot sauce so we can get fired after a coworker steals our spicy food

Main Course

"Duck club" sandwiches in honor of the secret office sex club where you get points for sex in different locations, and quacking is involved. (These were very decadent and if anyone's interested in a great duck recipe, I used the Duck with Lemon recipe from A Feast of Ice and Fire.)

Sides

Cheap-ass rolls that I definitely deliberately brought to upstage you, yes you, the person who signed up to bring Hawaiian rolls! It's definitely not an overreaction on your part to declare that "they can all take Santa and stick it up their ass!" You're definitely not getting fired for being wildly hostile! (These are actually homemade rolls, but I weighed "buy actually cheap rolls and be done" or "spend a couple hours adapting a corgi butt roll recipe to a human butt roll," and chose in favor of the pun.)

Dessert

Bribery cupcakes, from that time a letter writer brought some cupcakes over to chat with her neighbor, the son of the Chief of Police, about a disruptive noise issue in her workplace and some commenters decided this constituted bribing a public servant. (The recipe is in the comments on that link; I made the carrot cake version. However, I realized halfway through that I was somehow low on vanilla despite obsessively buying fancy vanilla extract every time I am in a spice shop, along with a bunch of other things I don't need because buying cool spices makes me feel like a wizard. Anyway, half of these had vanilla in the filling/icing, and the other half had cardamom extract.)

A birthday cake that somehow crosses boundaries by...being too fancy? Being paid for a staff person? Not involving the wife in the planning? Anyway, the real answer to the letter writer's question is, "Eh, I don't think it's a big deal" because different offices have different norms around birthdays and it's whatever, but sometimes a low-stakes office norms question hits just right and you get 630 comments of people debating The One True Way to Do Office Birthdays, and whether or not buying a cake means you're angling for an affair. (Okay, not all the comments are about that particular letter. Anyway, I picked up this fancy-ass cake at Marc Heu Patisserie, and appropriately enough, the guy ahead of me in line was picking up a cake for his boss.)

And of course, what Ask A Manager column would be complete without chocolate teapots?

Beverages

Mudslides, because "girls love chocolate." And magic tricks. And being played "You're So Vain" on the piano with a mournful stare. Partner and I are both notorious lightweights but I had been snacking all day as I cooked so I was mostly immune. Partner took one sip of this drink and immediately began loudly telling me how their one colleague doesn't sing enough to his Pre-K students, and "this classroom will do anything if you sing to them!" After dinner, they lay down on the floor and sang the Slippery Fish song.

The full spread:

#ask a manager #askamanager #alison green #thanksgiving #cooking #adventures in nerdery

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roturo · 10 months

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ROLLER COASTER!

①NEW REQUEST FROM ANONYMOUS!: childhood!friends into... ???, 1 sided love, mixed emotions and smut & angst.

→ summary: every goodbye has a why, but why have you been saying a lot of goodbye's without actually leaving?

→ warnings: SMUT. angst, corruption kink, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering & oral (f!receiving), drunk sex, jealousy, 1 sided crush turns into.. idk man, a lot of angst fr, dick grayson is an idiot mwah. words: +2.5k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

December, 2010.

¨ALFREEED! Dick is hitting me again!¨ You called for some help, a smile creeping your face.

¨Hey! That's not fair! We're training! You're supposed to get hurt! It's not my fault you're way too weak to protect yourself.¨ He pointed the training-stick to you, motioning to get up, but his action quickly stopped when he saw a tear running down your cheek.

¨Hey, hey, hey¨ He knelt down in-front of you cupping your cheek and wiped the tear away with his thumb. ¨I'm sorry, okay?, you're not weak, i'm just better than you.¨ That made you jokingly punch him on his stomach at which he only chuckled. ¨Okay, maybe not better than you, but practice makes perfect, c'mon, get up and let's watch some tv.¨

As a kid, you couldn't know what you felt for Dick, you mostly though he was 'special' since he was the only kid living with you and Wayne. A 11 year old knows what's love, and you're sure Dick, as a 14 year old knows it too. He's likely to not think very seriously when you tell him you love him, but in reality?

He's the beast for your beauty.

December, 2014.

You gazed at Dick through curious-lashed eyes, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and adoration. You had been harboring a secret crush on him for what felt like forever. But as much as you treasured this friendship, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness.

"So, Dick," you began, voice light and teasing, "any thoughts on the winter gala this weekend?¨

Dick's eyes lifted from the book he'd been engrossed in, confusion creasing his forehead. "Winter gala? Oh man, I totally forgot about that. Should we go?"

Your heart sank slightly, but tried to hide it behind a smile. "Hmm, I don't know. I'm not much of a dancer, you know."

Dick laughed, his melodic chuckle resonating in the serene surroundings. "Come on, you just need someone to teach you a few moves."

Your stomach fluttered at the suggestion, butterflies dancing wildly within you. Did Dick just imply he would teach you how to dance? Or were you reading too much into it?

Your laughter filled the air as Dick playfully tried to demonstrate dance steps on the carpet of grass, and much to your delight, you followed along, attempting your own clumsy version.

Hours passed until both of you were breathless from dancing and laughing. You plopped down onto the picnic blanket, side by side, shoulders brushing intimately.

Your mind started to wander, daydreaming about what it would be like if he ever realized your feelings. Would he reciprocate? Or would he still see you as just a friend?

"You know," Dick suddenly said, his voice laced with mischief, "if I had someone who danced with such enthusiasm as you, I wouldn't mind going to the gala at all."

ba-boom, ba-boom, you were sure you're going to pass out. Your eyes widening in disbelief. Could it be that he was finally taking notice of you?

"Really? You… you'd want that… from me?"

Dick tilted his head, his dazzling blue eyes capturing your gaze. "Of course, why not? You're amazing, and being with you always makes me happy."

Leaning against Dick's shoulder, you closed your eyes, basking in the warmth of the friendship of you two. Maybe, just maybe, someday he would see you in a different light. But for now, you're just cherishing these moments of pure, unadulterated fun.

December, 2017.

You were at Dick's 21st birth-day, which, Wayne made the 'reunion' for his birth-day, or what he likes to call it, his 'gala'. Your excitement was jumping everywhere, you even bought a new dress for this occasion, his present was a nice bracelet you bought by yourself, with your money.

It wasn't the most expensive, neither the most fancy, but it was made just for him. Unique in this world, well, the matching bracelets were unique in this world. You were ready to finally confess your love for him, bracelets with initial of you two, not because you're owned by the other, but because you know each other. It was your princess dream, and it was finally time for this.

After some final touches, you were ready. Entering the room, you could see a lot of people, mostly Wayne's acquaintances or friends, but you finally spotted him, actually, with Wayne.

You couldn't quite see what was he wearing since you only could see his back, but Wayne seemed happy, at least.

With quick steps, careful to not trip yourself with your dress, and throw away his present, you finally got closer to him.

¨Dicky! I know I already said happy birthday to you, but look-... Oh.¨

Oh.

Who was this girl?

¨Oh Y/N, great you're here, look this is my new girlfriend, her name is Daisy.¨ You locked eyes with her, she seemed nice, ha. ¨Daisy, this is Y/N, she's like my little sister, practically known her my whole life.¨

Oh wow.

¨It's a pleasure to meet you Y/N¨

¨Pleasure it's mine.¨ And with that, it was enough for you, how oblivious this fucker can be? ¨Dick, can we talk for a moment?¨ You didn't even waited for him to answer when you already grabbed his wrist and took him into his room.

When you were at your room, you couldn't take it anymore and broke down crying.

You wandered further into the room, gaze avoiding his as you tried to gather the turbulent thoughts. The weigh of your confession threatening to choke the words from your throat. But you had to do this, even if it costs the friendship.

"I-I've been keeping something to myself for a while," voice quivering. "And I just couldn't hold it in any longer. Dick, I've had a crush on you for as long as I can remember."

His brows furrowed in confusion, and you glanced up for a fleeting moment, catching a glimpse of his girlfriend's picture on his desk. Pain surged through your chest, but you proceeded. "I know you have a girlfriend now, and I understand if you don't feel the same way. But I just couldn't let this day go by without telling you how I feel, this was supposed to be the day, when you think i'm not longer a little child, where you could love me as I do."

Words trembling with vulnerability. Dick remained silent for a moment, his expression laden with guilt. Slowly he closed the distance between you two. His gentle touch on your arm made your heart skip a beat, yet it also stung with unrequited affection.

"I'm really sorry," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "I never meant to hurt you or lead you on. You've been an amazing friend, and I don't want to lose that.¨

¨I'm sorry, but we can't be friends anymore... I will always see you as something else.¨

PRESENT TIME.

You didn't exactly cut connections with Dick, well, since you both lived in the same house for a while more, but let's say you remained as... distant family. You saw each-other at parties, meetings, galas, so... you were still in contact!

Gratefully, not that you would show your happiness, he broke up with his girlfriend, way too manipulative and control freak. But that's not all!, you grew up, your feelings for him didn't disappeared, but you hid them far away from you.

He already knew your boyfriend, he acted kind and nice about it, not that both of you could talk a lot about it.

This gala was made by Wayne, again. Dick got really distant since he resigned from being Robin, and started a new group of Titans, you were a little jealous about it, but mostly sad for not being part of it.

You were talking with some of your boyfriend's friends, some boring conversation about some new business, which you couldn't care less about, but you caught a familiar silhouette not so far from where you are.

Apparently he brought the titans with him, you don't know them personally, just by news, magazines, and well, because of him.

And to say you weren't a little tipsy was a lie. But who could blame you? But being drunk also brings some... distortions about what's really happening. He was drinking too! With another girl!

After some time of asking for more shots, getting all touchy with your boyfriend, just so he could look at you, he's been doing the same, getting all touchy and flirty with her. Everything was like a competition of who would get more jealous first and leave. And well, like he said once, he's better than you.

With clumsy steps, somehow you made into your old room. Memories coming fast liken a roller coaster, emotions beating out the small chest you tried to forget all this time, you needed him.

Clicking his number on your phone, it's like he was waiting for it, like this was going to happen.

¨Heyyyyy' Dicky'- Hic!¨ you giggled at the sudden hiccup, and you could tell Dick was giggling too, it made your heart beat faster. ¨What's wrong little bee?¨ He said, some unrecognizable background noise was getting less and less loud. ¨Little beeeeee'? What's that- hic! type of nickname?¨ Both of you just laughed at the sudden and dumb conversation between two idiots in love.

¨You know... My boyfriend is a little- he- a little shit.¨

¨He's worse than my ex? No waaaaay¨ He said with a chuckle.

¨Yeah, he's been fucking some other girl... I don't know for how much time, but it's been a whileeeee¨ You started laughing suddenly, ¨And you know what I hate most? hic!- It's that surely you been fucking some other bitchees heh-.... bitches before me. You know I hate you for that right love?¨

¨You don't how many nights I been jacking off by myself thinking about you ever since we distanced apart. I didn't realized how much I needed you to be in myyyy life.¨

¨...........¨

¨...............¨

¨.... Dicky... I need you¨

¨Oh... you do princess? Where do you need me?¨

¨In my room, I need you now¨

¨And for what princess? I'm going there.¨ He was giggling while walking.

¨I need you to fuck me for once.¨

That's the last thing he heard when he hang up and with quick steps he got into your room, and with no words needed both of you started kissing each other, between giggles with just one sudden push and you landed among the sheets. Dick got on top of you and started kissing you as you started tugging at the hem of his shirt.

Dick's shoulders were wide, his hips narrow and there was a visible V-line that was half-hidden by his trousers. You were trying not to stare, but it seemed impossible since he was so appealing. Dick helped you to unzip your dress and you were lying only in you lace lingerie. His eyes were devouring you. How he couldn't notice how perfect you were for him?

Suddenly, Dick grabbed you calves and pulled you towards him on the edge of the bed. His free hand reached out for a pillow that was laying nearby and placed it under you hips. You were following closely his every move and your head started spinning a bit, a side effect of the substances in your bloodstream. He kneeled in-between your thighs and was placing small kisses on your bare skin.

His fingers pulled your panties to the side while he looked you in the eye before dragging his tongue over your clit. ¨Ah!- Nng- D..Dick!¨ You moaned at the sensation and reached out to touch his hair. His warm breath was caressing you, his movements were lazy yet precise.

You were getting frustrated with the slow tempo and you were about to say something when he pressed his index finger against your entrance. It didn’t take too long before you were moaning his name as he added another digit. Again, the pool of heat was starting to build up in your stomach while he curled his fingers inside you. Dick seemed amazed by how eagerly your hips were meeting his palm, the wet sounds of him moving his fingers inside you, made him eager to fuck you, he brushed his thumb against your clit once more before giving a small peck and standing up, taking of his pants and what was left of your clothes, he positioned himself between your legs.

You saw Dick right before he thrust his hips to enter you again. Your body was warm, already so fucking wet, he didn’t think he could last long enough for it to be fun, but then he steadied himself and slowed down the pace. He ran a finger across your lips, signaling to open them at which and you opened them wide enough to suck on it.

He bent over only to start leaving kisses in your neck that would for sure be purple by tomorrow. ¨Aren't you a good girl princess? A good, good girl.¨

¨Such a nice girl for me, I bet no one else has touched this pussy.¨

¨You- you're, ah!~ right, Dicky-, You're the first one to fuck me. Reaching a lot of place my fingers couldn't reach while thinking of you.¨

It's like something on Dick turned on, and started violently thrust into you in a bestial force, making you cum when his cock touched that place. His eyes were even darker, his dilated pupil taking over his blue-crystal eyes.

¨Oh yeah? I'm the first one to fuck you?¨

¨Ye-yes, other b-boys tried to give me pleasure on other ways and couldn't do it as good, nhg!~ as you.¨

His thrusts started becoming harder instead of faster, the though of another man fingering you made him mad. You were now his.

“You are driving me insane and I’m this close to losing my shit because of you.”

¨Make me yours Dick.¨

The next day, Dick was kissing your naked body while you were hugged on his, since you were kids you were always the small spoon. He was observing how he could never notice how perfect you are, you were always for him, you were the one.

He feels so incredible right now, the chemistry both of you have, it's amazing.

His fucking phone started ringing.

¨Fuck, the Titans meeting, shit.¨ He looked at your sleepy body and decided to dress you up, and obviously dress himself.

He forgot to leave you a note to notice you he's coming back, but you only realized once he woke you up knocking on your door.

He had... flowers?

¨Dick, why are you here?¨

¨Look Y/N, I know yesterday was a roller coaster of emotions, and I feel so dumb for never loving you the way you deserved to, but please, give me a chance, you won't regret it, and I guess you and your boyfriend-¨

¨Dick.¨

¨Just hear me out for a minute okay?, I never wanted to admit it, mostly because I thought I would lose you, not because of you, but because of me, I don't know what problem I have, but that doesn't matter right now-¨

¨Dick.¨

¨I will fight for us no matter what, and last night definitely wasn't an accident-¨

¨Dick! What are you talking about? What happened yesterday? Did I say something when you came into my room? Did I told you something personal when I called you?! Oh my god...¨

Were you lying?... He froze for a moment, the flowers fell from his hands, and he just started walking away. Is this true? You don't remember?

It feels like the beginning when you both grew apart, it's really hard to adapt at what's going on inside his head. Was yesterday an accident? Does he really loves you? Do you love him?

Why does this feels like a goodbye?

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader smut #dick grayson #dick grayson angst #nightwing x reader #nightwing x reader smut #nightwing #nightwing smut #nightwing angst #titans smut #titans angst #titans x reader #not proofread #😝😝😝#wrote this at the therapist #requests open

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aelenavelaryon · 5 months

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Hey guys! This story will have three or four parts. Or at least I’m hoping it will. Also, please bear with me as I recently started posting here so things are still new to me. I’m not quite sure on how to use tumblr to post yet so it might take a while! Thank you! 🤍

Robert Baratheon x Reader

Summary: In which history repeats itself once again. Or does it?

Robert had known young Rhaenyra all his life and they were sort of friends and some would even say they were somewhat close. When he sat on the Iron Throne she was the only one brought out, Jon Arryn saw it fit for the eldest of the Targaryen's to be the one to confront Robert. There she stood, in the middle of the room. All the lords eyes were on her. She said nothing, what could she say? "Your brother is dead" was the first thing Robert said to her. "I killed him. I wish I could kill him again" Rhaenyra's eyes filled with tears but none fell out. She didn't want to cry. She wouldn't allow them that satisfaction.

"What will happen to us?" she asked. "To Viserys, to Jaehaerys" everyone turned to her as he said the other name. "Who is Jaehaerys?" Jon asked. "He is my son. My son with Brandon Stark" Brandon lived but he was now married to Catelyn. "He is married to Catelyn Tully now" Robert said and she nodded. "I know" she replied. "The boy is a bastard" Tywin said and she glared at the man. "Kill her now. Avoid another rebellion" Tywin Lannister said and everyone turned to look at him. "I know you would like that, my lord. Did you enjoy having Elia and her children murdered as well?" she asked. "Lannisters. They have always been traitors. That has not changed in the past two hundred years it seems" he took a step but Ned Stark stood near her.

"Princess Rhaenyra is not at fault for her brother's sins. She is innocent" he spoke for her. "She's a whore! She and that bastard son of hers will bring nothing but trouble to the realm just as her brother has!" Tywin said. Ser Arthur, pulled out his sword as did Ned. "Hold your tongue, Lannister" was all Ser Arthur said. "Mind your tongue, Lannister" Robert stood in front of her. Rhaenyra was known as the Realm's Angel. or the Realm's Desire. Some even called her the Realm's Delight, referring at the nickname the realm gave the black queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, her ancestor.

"I propose a marriage between King Robert Baratheon and princess Rhaenyra Targaryen" Jon said making both Robert and Rhaenyra to look at him. "She's a child" Arthur said. "A child who bore a healthy son" Tywin scoffed. "She's been sullied. She cannot marry a king" he stated. "Robert has bed at least half of Westeros. It will not matter. Let's remember that House Velaryon, House Tyrell, and House Martell still support house Targaryen. This will ensure the peace in the realm. Specially after the chaos that this rebellion imposed on the realm" Robert looked at Rhaenyra. She was a child. She was seven years younger than him. She nodded. She did not object. She hoped that as the queen she could keep her son and brother safe.

It wasn't long before she was married off. The princess did not complain, she did not fight, she obeyed. They got married on the Great Sept. Brandon arrived with his family. With his wife and their son. Their legitimate son. It was said that Brandon loved her, he married Catelyn Tully for duty. He married her so her father could be on their side when the war was just beginning. He loved Rhaenyra as some said she loved him. But, the world will never know if she loved him as much as he did her. That was another secret she would take to her grave.

She sat with her husband as he drank himself numb. Robert didn't love her, she was sure he never would but he cared for her. When she arrived to her new chambers she found a box, inside laid three eggs. One was a black with red. The other was red with gold, and the other one was a blue and white color. Robert arrived a while later. The two did her their duty as quick as possible, Robert tried to be gentle but Rhaenyra was a woman of passion and asked for more and he complied. Perhaps it would not be so bad.

Princess Rhaenyra gave birth nine moons later to a son. A son who she named Daemon Baratheon Targaryen. Daemon was all his mother but the eyes. He held Rhaegar Targaryen's eyes. A year after him came Orys Baratheon, now that one was a Baratheon through and through. There was no ounce of Rhaenyra on him. Prince Aemon came two years later along with Aemond who were the spitting image of his mother. Robert used to laugh when he spoke to Rhaenyra about their sons as the boys all resemble her but not him aside from Orys.

Robert loved Jaehaerys as his own son, he had taken him and Viserys as his wards. He began to teach them how to fight. When the princess decided to visit Dragonstone a tragedy struck her. She had miscarried. The Maester had told her she had been poisoned. To bury her child, she had pyre made for the cremation and her dragon eggs were set inside alongside the babe. Her child had died but she left her mother with the greatest gift she could ask for. Dragons. Three of them. The eldest she called Balerion as the dragon was the spitting image of the black dread. The other she named Caraxes as the dragon was the same color and it seemed he too would look like the first blood wyrm. The third she named Syrax as he had been just like queen Rhaenyra's dragon. When she returned she returned with three dragons on her shoulder. House Targaryen would prevail.

#aegon targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #game of thrones x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #ser criston cole x reader #harwin strong x reader #rhaegar targaryen #robert baratheon

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