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ooffmlsorry · 5 months

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OP Men Dating a "Girly Girl"

A/N: sorry this took so long and I haven't posted anything original in a minute my life is mess and I'm so very tired jfc...I know this isn't more than my usual group but I was just gonna stop at Luffy and then decided to add Ace and Sabo as a thank you because writing these and putting them on Tumblr has been really good for me, so thank you for always being here to indulge me 🥲 ❤️

Sanji, Zoro, Law, Luffy, Ace, Sabo

Sanji

Let's be honest, girly-girls drive Sanji craaaazzzzyy (not that all women don't, but he's definitely more partial to the feminine ones) Your make-up, pretty skirts and dresses, jewelry, and manicure, he can't help fawn over you constantly 😍Although you do it because you enjoy it, it's nice that your efforts are so appreciated!!

He spoils you soooo baaaddd!! He literally can't help himself when he sees something pretty or cute that reminds him of you, he has to get it for you. You're drowning in squishmallows at this point.

A river of blood shoots from him every time you show off a new outfit. You're going to kill him and he'll thank you for it.

Dressing up in nice outfits together, especially on date night, is a shared activity that you love to do together. Y'all are living your best happily ever after lives.

Ya'll definitely have scheduled self-care nights. You put on some slow music, open a bottle of wine, draw a bubble bath, all that.

He's utterly useless when it comes to helping you pick your outfits or makeup if you're stuck because he loves you in everything, it's too hard for him to pick. You're his perfect, beautiful Y/N-swaaaaan 😍💖💖✨

He does love to see you in pink or red though so he might default to those colors

Don't try to test your makeup on him lol, you're going to re-awaken the gender identity crisis...I mean Kamabakka trauma

Listen...I'm not saying Sanji has a mommy kink...I'm not even at Whole Cake Island so idk wtf is going on there. All I'm saying is if you give this man a bath, wrap him in a towel to dry him off, and rub him down with luxurious lotions and oils, you might awaken something...that's all...👀

ZORO

He has no clue wtf you're doing. If it weren't for the fact that there's no proof that witches exist in this world, he'd think you are one

He looks at your vanity full of serums, creams, scrubs, lotions, etc, not to mention the makeup and he's like "??????" Just completely baffled

But what do you expect? This man would use that five-in-one Irish Spring soap if he could.

Just because he doesn't understand it doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate and admire the fact that you have extensive knowledge in something he can't even comprehend

He knows you like nice shiny things, and again, while he doesn't get it, he does think it's really, really cute when you go starry-eyed over a necklace or an outfit in a store.

In the same vein, he knows how much you love cute things and animals. He has absolutely found a cute animal in the jungle, picked it up, and brought it to you just to show you because he knew you'd love it.

Sometimes in his own gruff way he'll agree with you that it's pretty cute. Thank you for helping this manly man admit things are cute and that's okay.

Other times, he's the one making sure you don't get distracted because it's so cute

Unfortunately and fortunately, you're pretty to him no matter what you do to yourself so it's all kind of a moot point to him.

You can try to ask him about which 'x' to wear, sometimes it's helpful because he'll throw out a really practical answer and then other times he's like "How 'bout you just go naked" 😏.

He'll wear a face mask with you like...twice a year. And he's going to bitch and moan about it but he does it because he loves you. The entire process is like trying to give a cat a bath "WHY IS IT SO COLD? THIS STAYS ON MY FACE FOR HOW LONG???"

Exfoliate this man at your own risk...I'm dead serious that water is going to be brown

LAW

I need you to know right now this man will let you paint his nails!!! I mean, not like gel or acrylics or anything, but he'll let you paint them any color as long as it's a dark shade of that color. You once designed Bepo on his middle fingers. He did in fact flip people off a lot more often when he had them.

Let's you wear a pastel boiler suit because you he loves you and wants to see you happy

Much like Zoro, he's got no clue what you're doing. He'll stand back and watch you while making the exact same face as the gif above.

He thinks he's being stealthy peaking around a corner to watch your morning or night routine, but you quickly catch on. Please please pleeaaassee ask him if he has any questions because he does. He's just really curious why you're doing what you're doing and what it does. It's basically skin medicine and he's really fascinated.

Knowing that you like shiny things makes his life admittedly a little easier, it's not that he doesn't think of what to gift you, he puts A LOT of thought into what he gives you, but knowing that earrings, necklaces, and bracelets always make you happy is great just in case of analysis paralysis or he forgets. Sorry.

Also you wearing the jewelry he gets you does something to him, especially a necklace he can pull on a little, mmhhm you're making this man struggle with impure thoughts.

You both love cute things, it's something y'all connect on. It's really good that you help him access that very neglected inner child of his and encourage him to coo and fawn over adorable animals with zero reservation.

He'll do skincare with you too when he's not super busy. He can admit it's kind of nice to sit in bed with a book, glass of wine, and a face mask and just bask for a minute

He acts like he hates when you rub serums across his face and use a derma roller on him but he loves it

Law doesn't really pay attention to your clothes, but when you really go all out he breaks out in a sweat and he can't keep his eyes off you.

LUFFY

I'm not saying he thinks it's stupid, it just...why have an hours long care routine when you could be going on adventure with him??? 😭😭😭

He will help you pick out your makeup but don't expect it to look good. You're gonna end up with neon orange eyeshadow and green lipstick. Like literally every "My Boyfriend Does My Makeup" youtube video.

Plays around with your stuff but that's because he has no idea what all these strange contraptions are. The moment you try to explain his eyes glaze over and next thing you know he's whisking you away to go do something more fun.

He likes the shiny bright stuff (highlighter), makeup probably is the only part he even remotely engages in because it's

Explain how contour works to this man and watch him lose his fucking mind, he thinks you're a shape shifter now (honestly this applies to all of them except Law and maybe Sanji)

He never notices what you wear, Nami is gonna have smack him on the back of the head to get him to realize you put on something fancy

Luffy points out everything, it just so happens that things he points out sometime happen to be cute animals

Hides in all the stuffed animals and squishmallows in your room to surprise attack hug you

*throws mud at you* "Is this the kind of mud you like, Y/N??" He really means well though.

You know those hair masks with all natural ingredients like honey and banana? Yeah, he's gonna start sucking on your hair like spaghetti...I'm so sorry.

He'll bathe with you but that's because he wants to be close to you, it's definitely not about being pampered or relaxing.

Try to put a face mask on him or something else and it'll just become a game of tag around the Sunny. You can't catch him and he's having a great time outrunning and outwitting you.

He knows this is all important to you so even though he doesn't get it he'd never make fun of you for it and the moment someone calls you "extra," he's kicking their ass.

ACE

Maybe all the glam is a little silly to him but that just makes you extra cute!

He will also absolutely let you paint his nails. Hell, he'll let you do a full beat on him just for fun and he'll wear it for the whole day because he's so unserious lol

...As long as he gets to do your makeup after...Much like Luffy you're gonna be covered in neon colors that don't even remotely match, but you guys have a great time lol

Admittedly likes to be pampered by you when he gets back from a long mission.

Please take a bubble bath with this man, it's not like the water is ever going to get cold!

I'm pretty sure you'd legitimately lead to Ace taking better care of himself. Got this man out here talking about his cuticles and shit lol

Honestly, it's really good for him because self care leads to self love and Ace needs a lot of help with that.

He tells Pops about all the stuff you do 1.) because he loves you and 2.) he hopes some of it will help Whitebeard heal a little, god bless him 😢

All of your hardwork doesn't go unnoticed, he legitimately gets kind of misty eyed when you really dress up because he's so so so lucky. He swears he doesn't deserve you.

He always brings back some kind of gift even whether it's a cute plushie or something exotic to wear from all of his long travels

I need to stress how much this means to him, everyone of these things is like a little proposal because he already knows you're it. Every little gift is leading up to a ring from this man.

He's also just genuinely impressed by the skill it takes to do your makeup so well, especially after he tries doing it on you

Much like his little brother unfortunately, he does play with all the little contraptions in your vanity, especially in the beginning because have you seen an eyelash curler? He's so confused lol

SABO

Sabo and Ace truly are his brothers because he really don't get all the effort lol

Admittedly, a lot of that is because he thinks you're so hot already what's the point???

Once he gets this is just how you are he's less confused, he's probably the most normal out everyone. He lets you do your thing, although he's really curious how you managed to always look amazing while being in the fucking revolutionary army!!?? Where are you getting the time???

If someone were to intrude on y'all on a free afternoon you're both in fluffy robes with face masks on and Sabo loves to pretend to act like a bitch when he's in selfcare mode with you lol

"Are you seriously bothering us right now, ugh! I can't even right now!!" And then you both break out in laughter

He really thinks you should teach others how to contour and do makeup because it has great applications for disguises and infiltration.

And brags about your skills to everyone

Wonders how many of your makeup supplies could actively be used as a weapon *eye roll* jfc Sabo

There's a part of you that secretly worries all your boujieness will remind him of his blood relatives, but he assures you that it doesn't because you have a good heart and he never doubts that

Besides, being a little extra with him helps him associate those things he used to associate with his blood relatives with you instead so it's even better

He spoils you so bad, but with a Sabo-flair, ie. stealing from shitty people and bringing it back to you because you're oh so more deserving of nice things let's be honest

He gets jealous of the cute animals that you squeal over hehehe, please hug him when he starts pouting

He'll always wear a little pink just for you ❤️

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x reader headcanon #luffy x reader #law x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #ace x reader #sabo x reader

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moonstruckme · 8 months

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not sure if you’re taking requests buttttt poly!marauders but they’re kinda overprotective bfs and she sneaks out to go to a party with marlene or her girlfriends but they find out and show up at the party 💞

Hi don't worry, I am! I think it should show on the requests page linked in my pinned post, but please let me know if it doesn't, I'm still figuring tumblr out and often mess up! I hope this is alright honey, I tried to go for the angst but honestly the more I write the more suspicious I become of my inability to write our boys being anything other than soft with reader! I'll try to work on it but in the meantime I hope you enjoy this <33

cw: mention of concussion symptoms, including nausea, nothing intense or even very descriptive though

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 906 words

You’re aware that the internet had said you were supposed to avoid bright lights, loud sounds, and movement when Remus had looked it up after an unfortunate fall that morning. Just like you’re aware that when your boyfriends left you at your apartment a few hours ago, they’d been trusting you to follow those instructions. But you’re also aware that the internet had led you all to believe your concussion was mild, and that Marlene only has one birthday a year. Damned if you were going to miss it.

So yeah, you feel a bit queasy as your eyes struggle to track the movement and voices around you, but that’s nothing compared to the contentment of being with your friends. Lily has assigned herself the role of your caretaker, checking that you’re alright every few minutes and shushing anyone who raises their voice too loud around you, and Marlene has attached herself to your side, telling you how much she appreciates you in between beer-scented hiccups.

“And you’re so nice to come tonight,” she’s saying now, brushing her fingers clumsily but sweetly through your hair. “I can’t tell you how much—uh oh.”

You have a premonition of ill fate even before the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you follow Marelene’s unfocused gaze to the curly-haired boy coming towards you.

“Happy birthday, Marls,” he says, his smile only appearing slightly strained, before he turns to you. “Hey, sweetheart. Let’s go home, yeah?”

“Jamie,” you say quietly, and Lily and Marlene leave the couch to give you as much privacy as a party allows. “What are you doing here?”

“Everyone here’s been posting, and you’re in the background of half the pictures.” His smile slips as he crouches in front of you, disappointment in his eyes. “You know you’re supposed to be resting,” he says softly. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You’re glad that he’s here instead of Remus or Sirius, who surely wouldn’t be as careful about not embarrassing you. James is less stern than the others, and though you feel a bit guilty for doing so, you press that to your advantage.

“I haven’t drank anything but water,” you say. “That’s gotta count for something, right? And look.” You brush your hair behind your ear, showing him the earplugs you’d put in before arriving. “I’m being careful, see? I’m alright, Jamie, and it’s Marlene’s birthday. Let’s just stay, both of us, okay?”

James looks nearly apologetic. “Remus and Sirius are waiting in the car.”

You groan, but allow James to pull you to your feet, waving goodbye to your friends with a pout. He supports more of your weight than you really need him to as he walks you outside, where Remus sits in the drivers’ seat of the idling car. Dread settles, along with dull resignation, in your stomach.

Sirius is in the backseat and you hope James will get in first, but he lifts you in before him, placing you between two of your three upset boyfriends. You can’t look at any of them, allowing James to buckle your seatbelt for you as an oppressive silence, worse than the bass that had brutalized your head inside Marlene’s, stretches out between you.

True to form, Sirius is the first to breach it.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

You sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“You have a concussion! All you had to do was stay home and rest. That website said that lights and loud music—say, the sort of things you’d find at a party—would only make things worse.”

Normally, you’d argue with him. No matter how hopeless it seems, no matter how obvious it is that Sirius is going to win, you can always meet him head-on and at least make your point. But tonight, with your head throbbing and something about your very being feeling fundamentally wrong, you can’t muster up the energy.

“I know,” you say.

Sirius goes silent at the acquiescence in your voice, and he looks at Remus in the rear-view mirror, unsure of how to proceed. James puts a hand on your knee, a tiny gesture of comfort even though he’s upset with you too. The motivation that had driven you to Marlene’s and through the party is wearing off, and you feel suddenly, embarrassingly teary.

“Do you feel sick?” Remus speaks for the first time, and though his voice is calm, the absence of his usual terms of endearment leave no doubt that you’re still in trouble.

You clear your throat of the tears that are trying to clog it. “A little.”

“We’re bringing you to our place to rest.” It’s not a question. “We can go get some things from your place tomorrow, but tonight you can just wear our stuff. Think you can eat something before bed?”

It’s worse that he’s being kind to you. You’d been prepared for a lecture, but being taken care of is worse. It brings the vulnerability you’ve felt since the frightening pain and dizziness of that morning to the surface, and you keep your face turned towards your lap as your eyes become wet. “Yeah, I think so,” you say, and your voice cracks slightly when you add, “I’m sorry.”

Sirius makes a sympathetic, pained sound from beside you, and James abandons all pretense of anger, tucking your head under his chin.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Remus says, a bit more gently. “For now, just try to relax.”

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elmhat · 5 months

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DSMP TUMBLR SIMULATOR

🟩 escapedwarcriminal Follow

On vacation! Check out the fancy hotel :)

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

gufys please mass report this he's trxying to fucking dox me and also kill me pls guys

7 notes

❌ god Follow

I just finished writing my latest book! To thank everyone who stuck with me through this process, I'm giving away one copy to a random follower! All you have to do is reblog 😊

#bookblr #writeblr

2,963,086,652,755 notes

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

Anyone know where the boomerville residents went?

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

No one replied so I guess I own their house now

3 notes

🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

#I'm actually so sick of these mfs #no joke if I have to spend another day around these people I might kms #one more comment about how "evil" he is and I'm gonna snap #I can't believe I used to be friends with them? #they're so bloodthirsty for no reason #sorry just needed to vent #can't say any more than this or I'll blow my cover #neg

2 notes

🧁 the-girl-who-burned-your-tree Follow

New strawberry cake recipe! (Safe for pigs)

Try out this delicious dessert that all the family can enjoy!

Keep reading

#baking #recipes #I just wanted to make something that my friend can eat too #he has some rather unique dietary requirements

130 notes

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

"average person destroys 1 government a year" factoid actually just statistical error. average person destroys 0 governments per year. technoblade is an outlier and should not have been counted

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

this is so fuckign disrespectful to doomsday survivors take this down you egotesticle fkng prick

45,687 notes

🟩 escapedwarcriminal Follow

@warden-of-the-vault How's idiotville idiot

🟩 escapedwarcriminal Follow

Wait you can't reply cause you're in IDIOTVILLE

5 notes

🪶 philzaminecraft Follow

My good friend has entrusted me with looking after his lovely dogs, haha! 😂 Do any of you fine young people have advice for me as to how to take care of this many hungry hounds? 🤔 I look forward to hearing from you.

From Philza Minecraft.

P.S. Please also instruct me as to how to increase the number of messages I receive in response to my questions. This internet website is a tad confusing. I had enough bother attaching the photograph. 😂

89 notes

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

woke up to the dash full of drama again. sigh

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

fucking Die

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

oh so you're the one sending all the anon hate

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

i don't send anon hate i'll hate to your fucking face bitch

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

please go out with me

11 notes

🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow

🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

But fr guys, as much as we're memeing around in the tags dream is actually out there and he's dangerous. If you see him call me or sam immediately. DON'T fight him. You'll /gen die.

6,210 notes

🐈 antthecatmaid Follow

won't be around for a while, going on vacation!

🐈 antthecatmaid Follow

fuck I'm back fuck fuck fuck

27 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

i'm too sad to commit terrorism like what's the fucking point anymore

6 notes

🧨 zombiepresident1 Follow

World's First NFT Burgers

(Ignore the poor photo quality, my good camera got confiscated by authorities)

"An explosion of the senses, and I don't just mean that time the place exploded!" ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

"So much better than Quackity's horrible grimy SHIT FUCKING RESTAURANT" ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

#reviews are all from verified sources #don't look into it #someone blaze this I have no money

204 notes

✨ quirky-cake-duper-teleporter Follow

Genuinely fuck dream.

✨ quirky-cake-duper-teleporter Follow

Ignore this I wasn't in my right mind

16 notes

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

The Teletubby and the Pig

Fandom: Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Technoblade, Dream (me and my friend) Additional Tags: Pandora's Vault Prison, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort

Summary: idk man I'm bad at summaries, just something I wrote with my friend to pass the time (he was too embarrassed to post it)

284k words so far

-> Read here!

#I actually wrote this a while ago but I wasn't allowed to post it for legal reasons #don't worry though I'm planning to murder the legal reasons soon #writeblr #original fiction

35 notes

💍 im-from-the-future Follow

WARNING - PLEASE READ

My murderer showed up at my house today. Police refused to arrest him. I feel sick to my stomach, I don't know where he is or what he's doing, if he comes back I have no way to protect myself. Please stay vigilant and don't trust anyone you don't know.

🥕 catsncarrots Follow

i'm so sorry to hear that karl :( hey what's the new pfp?

💍 im-from-the-future Follow

No idea

43 notes

🥚 baddestboi-withahalo Follow

we all accepted the prison way too quickly. there's like no safety measures? are we forgetting someone DIED THERE? and i've literally seen the main cell myself and it's a mess. pretty sure there was some real blood on the walls too. idk just doesn't feel right

🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow

I'm tired of people reblogging posts like this without checking their sources. There are some obvious red flags here. For starters, op claims they've witnessed the main cell personally, but if you actually check the prison's rules, visits have been banned for several months now [x]. The prison is armed with state of the art security measures, including lava, barriers, and numerous manual searches, to name just a few [x]. Speaking as an authority on the prison myself [x], I can safely confirm that these security measures, as well as the prisoner, are in perfect condition. Don't be so quick to buy into conspiracy theories.

🥚 baddestboi-withahalo Follow

I LITERALLY WORK THERE????

🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow

Not anymore you don't.

972 notes

#long post #I wasted so much time on this and every second was worth it #dreblr #dream smp #dsmp #dashboard simulator #lore thoughts #dsmp dashboard simulators

827 notes · View notes

elainavoid · 6 months

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LN4 - And it's all too much for little Lando Norris

Hellooo! I'm back, sorry for not being active for like six months :'c I was actually on tumblr but just didn't feel like writing anything. And this just came up to my mind randomly. Enjoy reading, feedbacks are much appreciated. Also there might be some grammar mistakes, i know they are very annoying but i just loved this sm. Love you, enjoy again <3

dad!Lando x mom!reader

You were lying in bed comfortably, moonlight was your only source of light in the middle of the night. Since you were pregnant, bright lights annoyed you, even the smallest bit of light while sleeping woke you up. You rolled onto your side, seeing your husband sleeping peacefully made you smile. You slowly raised your hand, tracing his facial features. Lando kept his little mustache and beard growing before you gave birth, but when he read an article about how it can irritate baby’s skin, he shaved it all of. Even if Daniel made fun of him.

While staring at your lover, you were disrupted with the sound coming from the baby monitor on your night stand. You sighed and tried to get up, before feeling Lando’s hands stopping you. “Sorry for waking you baby. You can go back to sleep, i’ll check on Julia. She’s probably hungry.” You said quietly. Lando laid you down, “Shh, you don’t get enough sleep darling, I’ll take care of her.” You smiled at his words, your pregnancy was tough, Lando knew this very well. He scolded you whenever you tried to get up, cook or do some housework. After giving birth to Julia, you had many sleepless nights. But Lando always stayed by your side. He couldn’t stay in bed, knowing you were probably sleep deprived and tired while taking care of Julia.

You watched him as he got up, leaving your bedroom and closing the door after him, so you wouldn’t get annoyed by the lights if he ever turned them on. You heard the nursery door opening, Julia’s soft cry, getting louder as the footsteps told you that they arrived to the kitchen. He turned on the kettle, he was probably preparing some baby formula. You heard Lando talking to Julia, trying to get her calmed down before her food cooled a bit. “Please don’t cry my little ray of sunshine. Daddy’s here now…”

After a little while, there was nothing but complete silence. Lando left the bed probably twenty minutes ago. You decided to get up, look at what they were doing. Of course you didn’t really want to interrupt their daddy-daughter time but you were getting kind of nervous. You slowly got up, you had shivers down your spine as your bare feet touched the marble floor. Getting out of the bedroom, you found them on the sofa. Lando probably fell asleep while trying to get Julia to. He had one of his arms wrapped around her, other one was holding the half empty baby bottle. You stared at them smiling, knowing that you chose the right person to spend your entire life with, you chose the perfect husband and the perfect father. But probably being a father at a young age was hard and the responsibilities it brought was a bit too much for little Lando Norris.

#formula one #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #formula one x y/n #formula one imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 fluff

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wettvagina · 5 months

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'ON THAT BITCH'

warnings: p in v , creampie , cowgirl , reverse cowgirl , backshots a/n: a short smut on how aot men fuck you, took a break from tumblr cuz I had tests for like 2 weeks but theyre finally over so im back & im readyyyyyy so be prepared for a lot of smut

EREN

noww, first and foremost, we all know eren gives the most toecurling, stomach flipping, pussy clenching backshots known to man, he'll put his foot up on the bed, that way his dick is angled to dig even deeper into your damp pussy. & dont start on the shit he says, you know he's praising you from behind as he watches your ass recoil onto him...on a good day. on a bad day however, he'll slut you out like he fucking owns you, im talking about fucking you like an animal, he'll make you cum so much times you'll literally collapse, but he's still fucking you, he'd slap your ass so much times that it'd turn red.

"Fuckkkk!" you moaned out, "Stop- stop, it's too much." you wailed, hands trembling as you grip onto the white sheets, "Oh stop, Now you want me to stop." he laughs behind you, increasing the pace at which he's thrusting into you, you orgasmed for the third time literally five minutes ago, and this man would not rest. "Fuck- I'm sorry." you cry, "Please just-" you cut off yourself with a choking moan, "-slow down." you whimper as your knees began aching, he had you face down, ass up for one hour straight, his dick plunging in and out of your pussy repeatedly, round after round, the vehement thrusts at the start now turned into rough, sloppy pounding as he punished you for disturbing him while he was on his game. "Shit." Eren moaned behind you, grabbing at one cheek with his left hand and slapping the fuck out of your other cheek with his right hand. You barely processed anything besides the expanding string in your stomach, tightening once again, "Oh shit, I'm gonna-" upon hearing those words, Eren pounded into you relentlessly, driving you towards your climax, for the fourth time tonight. "Yeah, c'mon." Eren groaned as he felt your pussy clamp around his dick, causing his thrusts to stuttuer, he screwed his eyebrows together as he clenched his jaw, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." he muttered as he came inside of you, he felt the moistness of both his come and yours coat his cock. He scoffed as he gave your ass one last slap, watching how your weak knees finally gave out.

ARMIN

armin is a whiny little bitch, duhh, yeah his dick is gigantic but he acts like it's a needle or something, afraid to even be the slightest bit rough with you, sorry to say but he cannot fuck you to save his own life, like he acts like such a virgin you literally have to do the work by yourself, and honestly maybe you kinda enjoy it, he enjoys it more though and you can tell, from the way his eyes were looking up at you, as his fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, he'd moan like a bitch in heat and sometimes even cry when you overstimulate him.

"N-no, not again." he whimpers from below you, "Fuck you mean not again, you make me do all the work so I'm gonna help myself out too." you groan, bouncing on his dick with your feet flat on the ground, Armin had came in you already but you didn't even come once, so of course you were gonna use him until you came. "Shit-- slow down." you hear him whine beneath you as he uses his hands to slow your movements. You halt at your movements and you could feel Armin's breaths slow, your knees dug into the ground and you placed your hands on his broad shoulders, using the strength of your knees, you pushed yourself up and down his length before simply settling yourself on his cock, you looked down at him before you started grinding onto his length, "Shitt." you moaned as your hips traced onto his skin, you heard Armin groan under you as you neared your orgasm, he felt himself near his climax too, and with a final draw of your hips you creamed on his cock, your eyes rolled back into your head as Armin's whines and moans filled the room.

JEAN

lets get one thing straighttt, jean has a horse cock, it's literally massive, like gut tearing, but definitely a pleasure weapon, usually you'd enjoy it when he fucks you in missionary or maybe even in a mating press, you enjoy doggy too. but his alltime favorite was reverse cowgirl, for obvious reasons. he loveddd to watch you bounce on him and enjoyed seeing your ass jump each time you landed, eventually when you were tired he'd thrust up into you to get the job done.

Your back dimples were all that Jean eyed before his gaze lingered down onto your plump ass, he'd watch as you bounced on his cock, your ass slapping onto the skin of his lower stomach, he'd groan beneath you as you rested your chin on your own shoulder to look back at him, once your eyes met he smirked, causing you to pivot your hips, his dick was stretching you and you felt it all in your stomach in this position, your eyelids grew heavy and you started grinding onto his dick, moaning as you held onto his knees to weakly bounce onto his cock, "Tired, ma?" he questioned, holding onto your hips before he fucked up into you, making you whine at his sudden movement in your pussy, he fucked into your hole at a godly pace and you felt yourself tighten around his dick when you felt the vein in his cock pulse, you squirted all over his cock as he slowed his thrusts, his moist cock, drawing out of you.

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sincerestlove · 2 months

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Coming Home - R.R

my first tumblr fic, ahhh!! i’m so excited to be sharing my work here. i am absolutely in love with reneé rapp <3

Pairing: Reneé Rapp x Reader

Warnings: Alludes to smut

It was an ungodly hour in the morning when you heard the familiar jingle of keys in the front door. You had fallen asleep some hours before, reruns of The Office playing on the television. Groggily rubbing your eyes, you looked up to see your girlfriend, visibly tired, walking through the door. With a sigh, she shucked her coat on the hangar, kicked off her shoes and made her way towards you.

"Hey, Ne." You sleepily smiled at her, opening your arms for her to walk into.

"Hi, baby." She sighed again, diving head first into the warmth and comfort of your arms. She nuzzled her nose into your neck, slowly breathing in the fading scent of your perfume and shampoo.

You began running your fingers gently through her soft blonde hair, smiling at the way she immediately relaxed into your embrace. "Are you hungry? Have you eaten since you left this morning?" Already knowing the answer, you rolled your eyes when she shook her head no. "Okay beautiful, let's get some food in that tummy."

Coaxing the tired woman to sit up on the couch, you quickly made your way into the kitchen to grab the plate of food you made for her return home. Reneé smiled at you gratefully, her stomach growling on cue. "Thank you, Y/N, you're the best." The blonde began to dig in, you laughing at the urgency of her movements.

"Slow down, babe. The food isn't going to run off of the plate." You grinned at her, the woman pausing to look at you sheepishly.

"Sorry. I'm hungrier than I thought." You waved teasingly, allowing her to finish her meal in silence, turning your attention to the television.

After a few minutes, Reneé returned her empty plate to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway of the living room on her way back. You looked up at her, brow raised. She leaned against the door frame smirking at you, arms crossed under her chest. Her eyes ran up and down your frame, taking in your appearance.

Just then, you took in what she was wearing, and your mouth went dry. She was clad in your favorite tank top, clinging to her in all the right places - hair tumbled loosely down her toned shoulders, slender fingers running up to push it out of her face.

"See something you like, Y/L/N?" She smirked at you, pushing off the frame and sauntering slowly towards you. Your brain short circuited then, mouth hanging open as the woman offered her hand to you, gesturing her head towards the bedroom. You nodded, sleep immediately forgotten, quickly taking her hand and allowing her to drag you to the bedroom you two shared.

Reneé shut the door behind you and gently pushed you against it all in a smooth motion. Your breath hitched in your throat, hands finding solace on her waist. "Are you too tired, Ne? We don't have to do anything tonight, you know?" You assured the woman, knowing how long and tiring her recording sessions have been recently.

She nuzzled into the space between your neck and shoulder, warm lips finding flushed skin. "Never too tired for you, honey. Get on the bed for me, hm?"

~ ~ ~

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but when you came back down from your numerous releases, Reneé was cleaning up between your legs with a warm towel, pressing soft kisses to your tummy. "How are you feeling, love?" She whispered, fingers coming to gently massage your lower back and thighs.

"Good. Yeah, good." You mumbled. Renée laughed, as you felt her cuddle in behind you, kissing the back of your neck and shoulders. She pulled the covers up over the both of you, nuzzling her face into your hair. "This was supposed to be about you, y'know."

Your girlfriend laughed, rubbing your back soothingly. "You can always return the favor later. Sleep now, love."

i hope you enjoyed! please leave me requests if you have any :)

#renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #reneé rapp #reneé rapp x reader

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months

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Cod Characters General Dating Headcanons (part three)

+ Random and Some bits of Chubby Fem S/O Headcanons with mentions of different nationality S/O

+ What type of BF/GF they would be

Including König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves (+ some headcanons including the Shadows), Makarov

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Fem terms and pronouns like she/her are used for the reader

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

My rules for requests and characters I can write for

A/n: I tried so hard to get this one out in time with the other but my other wips are getting to me 😭. I posted twice today just to feed y'all ahaha.

Disclaimers/warnings: Typical Cod things, OOC characters???, Unrealistic, Some suggestive themes and language, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Most of the content I've seen are on TikTok and Tumblr I don't actually play the game but I love the characters so much, same with any other content I have for other video games.

Tiny sidenote: the reader in this has been describe to be shorter than the characters and has been mentioned to have a soft body rather than the muscular type.

König

ꕥ (PLEASE DON'T COME AFTER ME, I DON'T KNOW ANY GERMAN AND I'M USING GOOGLE TRANSLATE)

ꕥ Speaking of König, I don't think this man is the shy boy that some people is making him out to be (not that he doesn't have that side at all, I just feel like they make it his whole personality). Based on voice lines alone this man is cocky asf.

ꕥ There's a reason for his mask, yes he was bullied as a child because of his looks and that's one of the causes to his social anxiety but that doesn't mean this mf is shy. He just like to avoid people and social interactions yk. (Y'all have no idea how much I can relate to this)

ꕥ Has and will continue to use his height to his advantage, someone bothering you while you're both sat having a wonderful time together? This mf stands the fuck up, shoulders back, chest out and everything. Looming over that person while glaring down, arms crossed while they're engulfed by the shadow of this 6'10 behemoth of a man.

ꕥ Chubby!Reader? He'll throw you over his shoulders, only using one arm below your ass while he carries you off. Seriously it is no problem to this man, he'd beg you to sit on his face and suffocate him. If anything I'd say he has a preference for it yk, very soft and plush reader for real.

ꕥ Our DIY king here wearing a shirt for a hood, his hair sticking out of the hole for the head whenever he's dressing casual. Play with his hair like right now, you'll make him melt right then and there.

ꕥ Enjoys cuddling, hasn't had many partners and by that I mean kinda none. Nobody was insane enough to approach him till you came around so he's very touch starved. He didn't even know he enjoyed touching that much till he was able to feel the amount of warmth your body gives him. He'd swear on his life that he was intoxicated in that moment.

ꕥ Whenever you sit or straddle on his lap, he's still so fucking tall. I swear you will gain neck pains if you wanna keep eye contact while talking to him. (I understand the struggle, I am a 5'1 girly. Every character I know within the CoD universe is taller than me 😭)

ꕥ Doesn't actually wear his mask around you, he's comfortable and trust you enough to know you wouldn't go around telling everyone what he looks like.

ꕥ Nicknames he'd call you in German are Mein Schatz, Fräulein, Liebling, Engel and Kleine Maus

ꕥ He's still definitely bitter about not being a sniper. (AHAHAHA)

Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin

ꕥ (IF I'M BEING HONEST, I DID NOT EXPECT HIS VOICE TO BE THAT DEEP. ALSO HIS VOICE LINES IN KOREAN/HANGUL (IDK WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT)

ꕥ He has doodles on his tactical gear that he did himself (there are also one that are a tribute to squid game because man's had a gambling addiction), has asked you to draw on it too and he proudly wears it when on duty. Will feel stupid while unconsciously smiling if you draw a heart.

ꕥ Writing something down on his vest from your own mother tongue and he's asking the meaning, if it's genuinely something good like a compliment or something like "I love you" then you will catch this man with a shit eating grin.

ꕥ He used to be a gambler before entering the military and it eventually got him to stop, though he still has a thing for risk, he got himself a more deadlier alternative.

ꕥ Expect surprise back hugs, this man isn't called Horangi for nothing. He's stealthy, I like to think that whatever he says to you is well thought out as well. Man knows how to think before he speaks.

ꕥ Horangi likes to pounce on things, just for the fun of it. It leads him to tackle you on your shared bed a lot, lots of play fighting too.

ꕥ HAS THE PRETTIEST EYES EVER. Like seriously, the only people who knows what he looks like is you and König. Had gentle eyes, you know that quote "His eyes softened", yeah that's the definition of his eyes.

ꕥ Loves it when you trace the veins on his arms with your finger nails, will just straight up offer his arm to you.

Keegan P. Russ

ꕥ This man and his panty dropping voice like holy hell I have never heard a voice as deep as his without a vocal fry (from those try hard guys on TikTok who try to hard thinking their thirst traps are good).

ꕥ Calls you "kid" in an affectionate way? It's honestly just what he calls anyone younger than him, you're shorter? He'll emphasize on that shit. Elaborating on the nickname I said earlier, he uses it less when y'all are dating but still does on some occasions.

ꕥ Would say the most dirty and uncalled for things, whispering it in your ears. He's and asshole in the best way possible, loves it when you gasp and playfully slap his chest.

ꕥ He's sweet though, would see you as his wife even if you're not married. You're his now, the moment you entered his life, he basically had a death grip on you.

ꕥ Something tells me that he likes talking about you or to you through radios yk. His voice sounding even deeper through the device, calling you doll even though he's supposed to refer to you with your call sign.

ꕥ Praise kink? I mean you've more likely heard his voice lines, is the type of man to praise you and ruffle your hair, either that or he'll kiss you depending on what stage of your relationship you are both in.

ꕥ Constantly thinks his eyes are weird even though they aren't, he just has sleepy eyes. Speaking of sleeping, I feel like he has such a fucked up sleeping schedule and is used to pulling all nighters more than the normal person.

ꕥ Will drag you in bed though and lay his whole weight on top of you because you ain't going nowhere, you are staying there with him and only him.

Philip Graves

ꕥ (If it isn't "Fix It Felix", please tell me I'm not the only one who sees it AHAHAHA)

ꕥ Philip is touchy, somebody for the love of everything that is holy cuddle this man please. He is just screaming at any type of physical contact at this point. (My sources? Right fucking here)

ꕥ Is the type of boyfriend to come home to you and just hug you, y'all would be there for a solid 10 minutes before he lets you go. Burying his head into your neck and just inhaling your scent while having his arms wrapped tightly around you.

ꕥ His Shadows? More like his fucking children, again going back to the TikTok. He knows how to get their attention, the little pats on the shoulder and small praises are his way of saying they did a good job and they're eating it up.

ꕥ That being said, you are either gonna be their mother figure or someone they enjoy protecting because their dad is so fond of you. Why not be both right?

ꕥ You cannot tell me this man won't be next to the grill, spatula, tongs or whatever kitchen utensil in one hand and a cold bottle of beer in the other.

ꕥ Spends his weekends with you on his lap while he watches football in your guys' couch, you're definitely scrolling on your phone during this.

ꕥ You cannot tell me this man doesn't wear cowboy hats and boots because he certainly does, is it a turn on or a turn off? I genuinely do not know..

ꕥ Is fruity on some aspects but would never fucking admit it..

Makarov

ꕥ Y'ALL ACTUALLY THOUGHT I'D WRITE FOR THIS MAN? NAH THIS ACC IS WHOLESOME (OR ANGSTY) AND ION THINK THIS MAN IS SALVAGEABLE. (This came from a girl who once was obsessed with Tom Riddle for years when she was 13, I recovered from it dw)

ꕥ This man would literally use anyone and anything as leverage for whatever he wants to achieve. (Yes I am one of those "I can fix him" people but damn idk if this man is fixable)

ꕥ Please don't tell me you actually genuinely think this man would be good to you.. I knew what I was writing was unrealistic but damn y'all are delulu on another level (so am I, stay delulu). Jokes aside I love y'all and he's one of the few I won't write for. (AHEM Severus Snape (that greasy mop haired mf)

ꕥ And yes I understand most of my shit are kind of OOC but damn if I wrote him, it would be extremely fucking far from canon and I don't like romanticizing toxic relationships (if I ever do write it, it will be angst and I can't ever promise a happy ending).

ꕥ Happy April fool's! (I know I'm posting this end of September (it's actually October now 😭)

#cod headcanons #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #philip graves x reader #konig x reader #horangi x reader #keegan russ x reader #cod x female reader #cod x gn!reader #cod modern warfare #cod mwf2 #call of duty mw2 #mw2 #makarov x reader #satire #Aethelwyne Lia writes

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wolfjackle-creates · 10 days

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Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 5

So it's been about 3 weeks since my promised update. Oops. Main issue was breaking my first bone as I'm sure most of you saw. On my right wrist, of course. And being right handed, meant I could barely type for that first week.

But also this is a transition section of the story. And I was struggling with how to best write said transition. I am finally happy with it, though. To make up for being so late, this is a long one! Hope you enjoy. The total word count for this arc is now up to 9.6k. Do with that as you will.

Story Summary: Jack and Maddie install a new ghost shield on the house which activates the moment Danny tries to step into his home. His secret is out and his parents are determined to excise the ghost from their son.

Luckily Danny isn't alone. The Young Justice, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz aren't going to leave him to suffer.

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: AO3; Tumblr - First, Last

Arc 3: First, Previous

Word Count: 3.6k (Told you it was a long one!)

-----

Pain was a constant through the rest of that never-ending drive. Danny would wake screaming from the nightmares only to continue screaming from the pain.

Tim was there every time. His words were soft and soothing, even when Danny couldn’t make out their meaning between the throbbing of his human chest and aching core. Any time he woke, Tim did his best to force ectoplasm and liquid foods down his throat. If Danny couldn’t manage even that much, he was given more of Frostbite’s ice chips.

When they finally, finally stopped for the last time, Danny cried in relief. Kon carried him out of the van, a blanket under him as a makeshift stretcher. TTK meant that he was held perfectly flat even though Kon was only holding one end.

Tim’s worried face peered down at him. “Kon’s going to fly you up, okay? I’ll let you in through the window. I’ve disabled all cameras, so no one will see you.”

Danny think he nodded. He wanted to. He must’ve done something because Tim brushed his fingers across Danny’s forehead, nodded, and disappeared from view. Then Danny was leaving the van. For the first time in Clockwork only knew how long. It was daytime, but the sky was overcast and gray.

When Kon flew with him, it wasn’t the weightlessness of his own flight. Instead, he felt like they were fighting gravity. He hated it.

But it was only the matter of a few moments before they approached an open window and Kon carried him in. He was in too much pain to take in most of the room, but he did see a TV bigger than any he’d seen outside of Sam’s home theater.

Kon didn’t stop, and he was carried into another room—a bedroom As they approached the bed, the sheets folded back on their own. Kon set him down as gently as possible, but pain shot up from his chest at even the slight change of position.

He stopped breathing, even the movements of his lungs were too much. Instead he just let the pain wash over him. Wave after wave of it. Vaguely, he was aware of someone grabbing his hand, of voices above him.

Gloved hands pressed something cold to his lips and Danny gratefully took the ice and the numbing coolness it promised. Not enough for full relief, nothing could give that right now. But by the time it was gone, he could at least think through the pain.

This time when he opened his eyes, he saw Tim’s worried face, Kon standing behind him.

“Back with us?” asked Tim.

Danny grimaced and nodded. He tried a shallow breath. It hurt, but he could somewhat function through it. “Sorry.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to hear apologies from you for at least a month. This isn’t your fault.”

“Sorry,” Danny repeated.

Tim just huffed. “How’s the bed? Do you need anything? Extra pillows?”

Danny bit his lip and let himself feel. The bed was soft. As far from the feel of the exam table as it was possible to be. It was also leagues better than the camping mattress he’d been using in the van. Honestly, it was probably better than his mattress back home. And the pillow was the perfect height for lying on his back. “It’s good.”

The look Tim gave him made Danny think he wasn’t believed, but after a moment Tim just nodded. “If you’re sure. Now, Kon and I are going to have to change your bandages and reapply the necessary creams and poultices. After, I want you to try and eat a little more.”

Danny groaned, already dreading the procedure. But it had to be done. He ignored the tears he couldn’t stop and met Tim’s eyes. “Just do it.”

Kon grimaced. “I’ll make it quick.”

Danny tried to smile back but he knew he failed when neither Kon nor Tim looked any less concerned. “I know. Thanks.”

And it was true. Kon’s TTK made the process so much easier that it would have been otherwise. However, there was no way to make it entirely painless. Especially when removing the final layer. Danny couldn’t keep from crying out as the gauze stuck to his wounds. Finally, his chest was bared to the world. Danny trembled with the pain of it before gathering his courage and looking down.

This was his first time seeing his chest since he’d been pulled out of the lab. The incisions were inflamed and leaking, though they were already scabbing over. Green ectoplasm and red blood mingled in the secretions.

Tim and Kon didn’t wait for him to catalog every mark, however. They quickly passed jars of Frostbite’s concoctions to each other and set to work covering every area of his chest. Cold spread in the wake of their ministrations and Danny nearly wept in relief.

“This is already looking better, Danny,” said Tim.

Danny scoffed, then winced as it pulled at the injuries. He clenched his eyes shut as he reminded his body he didn’t need to breathe.

“He’s right,” said Kon. “I don’t think even I’d be healing this quickly from injuries like yours.”

Danny didn’t say anything as they continued to work. When they were done with the medications, Kon reapplied the bandages. Tim gave him another piece of ice which Danny took with relief.

Danny mumbled a thanks around the ice.

“Anytime,” said Kon. “Mind if I take a picture of you so everyone can see you’re safe in Gotham now? Sam’s been texting me non-stop asking for updates.”

Sam’s concern is what finally allowed Danny to smile for the first time since he’d returned home and his parents had learned his secret. “Pull up the sheet first. And just to her and Tuck and Jazz, please. I don’t want your entire team to see me like this.”

“’Course,” agreed Kon. Without Kon moving at all, the sheet rose up out of the blankets at the base of the bed and covered him up to his neck. Kon then took out his phone and snapped a photo before tapping at the screen.

Immediately it started ringing in his hands.

“Are you up for talking to them?” asked Tim.

Danny shook his head. “Want to, can’t.”

Kon waved him off. “I’ll tell them what’s up. Eat something and get some sleep.” Kon turned away. As he left the room, Danny hear him answer the phone with a, “Hey, babe,” before he shut the door, muffling all noise.

“Yogurt, applesauce, or pudding?” asked Tim once they were alone.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. And another vial of ectoplasm.”

Danny sighed and asked for the applesauce. He only managed a few bites alternated with sips of ectoplasm before darkness pulled him under once more.

---

A throbbing pain slowly dragged him out of the blackness. He tried to cling to unconsciousness, but the throbbing was inescapable. With a quiet moan, he blinked awake in a dark room. For once, he was able to think past the pain. It was a constant, throbbing presence, but not as all consuming as it had been.

The mattress he was lying on was soft. So, so different to the hard table that had been his bed for those long hours in the lab. He twisted his head and rotated his jaw, relieved when the action wasn’t hindered by harsh restraints.

He was in Gotham, out of their reach. Tim was here and he was safe.

He was safe from his parents. His parents had— had— Danny’s breath caught and he couldn’t finish the thought. He pulled in a gasping breath. The ball in the back of his throat made it so hard to breathe.

He’d just… never thought they’d actually do it. He’d been so sure that once they realized who he was, they’d hug him and continue to love him. He couldn’t hold back the sob, loud in the silent room. His eyes burned and he didn’t even try to stop the tears.

Next to him, on the floor, blankets rustled and Danny tensed.

“Danny?” asked a sleepy voice from the floor. Tim was here?

“Sorry,” choked out Danny through ragged breaths. He was safe. His parents hated him. Nothing would ever be the same again.

“Don’t be.” The mattress dipped next to him as Tim sat down. “It’d be weird if you didn’t have a few breakdowns.”

“What’s going to happen to them?” Danny tried to wrap his arms around himself, but cried out at even the light pressure on his chest.

Tim pushed aside the thin sheet he’d been covered in and grabbed one of his hands. Danny clung to him until the sharp pain faded. And when it did, his breathing was more normal. His core still ached at the thought of his parents, but the physical pain had helped chase away the panic attack. At least for now.

“What’s going to happen to them?” he asked again; this time his voice was more stable.

“They’ve been picked up by the Justice League. Tucker is helping with getting all their files transferred to document their history. Jazz and Sam have been giving reports on their behavior, lab and home safety measures, and their actions. Others have begun questioning the general public on Amity. There’s currently a few magic users there trying to determine if they can shut down the portal.”

Something in Danny screamed out at the idea of the portal being gone and he tensed. “No! They can’t shut it down! Please, you can’t. It’s— I— you can’t.”

“What? What are you talking about? We have to at least look for a way to shut it down!”

He was crying. Why was he crying. “You can’t,” Danny repeated. “If it’s gone…” he trailed off. Why did he feel so strongly about this? The portal had done nothing but cause him problems since it had turned on. “I died there. I died for it,” he whispered. Something in him knew it was important. His ghost half refused to accept that the portal could just disappear. “If it’s gone, if it can just be turned off, what was it all for?”

And even that wasn’t the full story. The portal was his parents’ life work. It was the thing they spent time working on. It was what stole them away from Danny and Jazz. They missed Jazz’s recitals to work on it. They missed Danny’s science fairs. Every forgotten dinner or event could be tied back to that portal. And if it was gone, what was the point of it all?

Tim sighed and squeezed his hand. “We can’t just leave it open, Danny. It’s not safe.”

“I can design a door. A better one. One that actually works. Just… Leave it. Please. I can make it safe.”

Tim bit his lip and stared at Danny for a minute. “I’ll let them know it’s an option. I don’t know if they’ll go for it. Constantine is not happy with it existing. But I’ll see what I can do.”

Danny’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you.”

Tim gave a half smile. “What are friends for? Now, think you’re up for something to eat? What do you want?”

Danny groaned. “Don’t wanna.”

Tim ruffled his hair. “Sorry, Polaris. Non-negotiable.”

“Chocolate pudding?” asked Danny.

“Sure. We can—”

Before Tim finished, a knock sounded on the door. “Someone ask for chocolate pudding?” called out Kon.

Tim laughed. “Come on in!” Without delay, the door opened and Kon walked in. It shut on its own behind him.

Even Danny couldn’t hold back the smile. He really had some great friends. “Spying on me, are you?” he asked.

“Not my fault you were talking so loud. Woke me up and everything!”

Danny, very maturely, stuck out his tongue. The grief he felt over his parents was hiding, ready to rear up again at any minute, but for now he had two friends with him. He would focus on that.

For the first time, Danny ate the entire pudding container and drank an entire vial of ectoplasm and wasn’t ready to pass out when he was done.

“Can we put on a movie or something? I don’t want to sit in the dark and quiet right now,” said Danny.

“’Course, Polaris,” said Tim. “What do you want to watch?”

“Kon, where’d we leave off in your movie list?” asked Danny.

But Kon held up his hands and shook his head. “I’m definitely going to fall asleep halfway through if we’re watching a movie. Pick whatever you want and don’t bring me into it.”

Danny pouted at him, but didn’t push. Kon hadn’t spent the last however many days sleeping. So he squeezed Tim’s hand and asked, “Then how about we put on some Star Trek? Short episodes and if we fall asleep, we’ve already seen them.”

Tim’s teeth were bright in the dark as he grinned. “I can definitely arrange that. You just lie there and keep looking pretty and I’ll pull it up. TOS or TNG?”

“What the hell does that mean?” asked Kon.

Both Danny and Tim ignored him. “I’m far from pretty,” retorted Danny. At Tim’s look, he rolled his eyes and said, “TOS.”

“Coming right up!”

Mounted to the wall facing the foot of the bed was a TV, smaller than the one in the living room, but still bigger than the one he had in his living room back home. Within minutes the opening, “Space, the final frontier,” rang through the room.

“Sorry, bit loud,” said Tim before adjusting it down a touch.

Danny didn’t bother replying as the episode started. Then Tim handed over a water bottle and settled back on the floor.

“What are you doing down there?” asked Danny.

“Getting comfortable? Where else would I go?”

Danny rolled his eyes, not that anyone could see. “This bed is huge. Sit next to me.”

“Won’t that jostle you?”

“Kon, move me over closer to the edge. Then you and Tim can join me.”

Kon laughed. “I think I’m going to go back to bed. I’m a morning person, unlike you two. But sure, I’ll move you to make room for Tim.”

Danny grit his teeth as Kon put his hands under his shoulders. Then he was wrapped in the strange sensation of TTK and his entire body was picked up and moved closer to the edge of the bed. Even as gentle as he was, pain radiated at the movement.

Danny clenched his eyes shut and stopped breathing until it passed. When it did, he slowly blinked open his eyes until the black spots faded and patted the bed next to him. “Get in, Secrets.”

“Are you sure?”

Danny glared and Tim grinned sheepishly as did as instructed.

But then he still tried to leave too much space. “Get closer.”

Tim grumbled under his breath, but shifted over a few more inches. He was sitting more upright than Danny was, but it was fine. Danny leaned his head against Tim’s side and finally let himself pay attention to the episode.

Next to him, Tim stiffened, but then relaxed and rested a hand on Danny’s head. “I’m glad you’re here, Polaris.”

Danny just hummed and let the show and Tim’s warmth help chase away the panic and grief he could still feel waiting for him.

---

Within two days, Danny was mostly able to sit upright. Frostbite’s medicines really were miraculous. Though he wished he could go to the Far Frozen and get stuck in a pod unconscious for a few hours and wake up fully healed.

He was video chatting with Ellie on the PDA Tucker had left him, complaining about being confined to bed.

She grimaced in sympathy. “I hate being stuck in one place.”

Danny laughed, then winced. “Trust me, gremlin, we know. You can’t even stay in the same city for more than a week.”

Ellie frowned and looked off to the side.

“What’s wrong?”

“What if—” she cut herself off and bit on her lip. Danny let her collect her thoughts. “I’ve been thinking of joining you. In Gotham.”

“What?” Danny was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open. Ellie had never expressed an interest in coming to stay with him before, instead prioritizing her travels through both Earth and the Realms. “You want to come here?”

She frowned and glared at him. “You told me Superboy is there! And he’s a clone, too. I want to meet him.” Then she looked away. More quietly, she added, “’Sides, who’s gonna be able to keep your ass safe from ghosts if someone decides to attack while you’re injured? You certainly can’t protect yourself right now.”

For the first time since his parents captured him, Danny felt his core trill in happiness. She cared about him. “Of course you can come. I know Kon’s been hoping to meet you one of these days, too.”

She grinned widely at him. “Great.” She spun her PDA around and showed off the aerial view of a city. When she turned it back, she paused on the gargoyle she was sitting next to. “Because I’m already here. How do I find you?”

Danny’s mouth was hanging open again. “You— Ellie!” But he was grinning and holding back laughter, too. “I have no idea. Let me call in Kon and Tim. Maybe one of them can direct you.”

He didn’t even have to call for them before Kon was pushing open his door. “You need us?” he asked.

“Ellie wants to visit. Can one of you tell her how to get here?”

“Sure,” said Tim. “Where is she?”

Danny shrugged and held out the PDA. “Somewhere in the city. But I don’t know where.”

Tim blinked at him for a moment before shrugging and taking the device. “Well that makes it easier.” He looked down at the screen. “Hey, Ellie.”

“Oh my god, you’re Superboy! Huge fan,” she exclaimed. Kon had shoved himself next to Tim so he could see her.

He grinned. “I’m a huge fan of you, too. Sam’s told me some stories.”

“Glad you’re not dead anymore.”

Danny smacked his face when he heard her say that. Tim froze, wearing a fixed smile that Danny could see right through.

“Just tell them where you are,” said Danny as loud as he could.

“I’m getting there!” protested Ellie.

Kon burst out laughing. “I like you, Ellie.”

Danny couldn’t quite make out her reply, but it was enough to get Tim back into the conversation. “Turn invisible and fly down to the street. Show me the nearest street sign, okay? And then I’ll help you get here.”

“Or I could just fly out and meet her and bring her myself,” offered Kon.

“Yes!” cried Ellie. “That!”

Tim shrugged. “Just show us the nearest street sign, okay? I’ll figure out a good landmark for Kon to meet you at.”

Danny let his mind drift as they discussed potential meeting spots. Not even ten minutes later, Kon left.

Tim ran his hands through his hair and returned the PDA to Danny. “They should be back within twenty minutes. Anything we should get ready for Ellie?”

Danny shrugged. “No idea when the last time she ate would’ve been. Couldn’t hurt to have something ready.”

“Fine. I’ll blend you a smoothie and put a pizza in the oven. And set up the couch for her to sleep on.”

“Thanks, Secrets.”

“’Course, Polaris. Need anything before I go?”

Danny waved him off. “I’m good.”

Once he was alone, he pulled up the group chat with Sam, Tucker, and Jazz.

Danny: Ellie’s come to gotham Jazz: Oh good! She arrived. How’s she doing? Danny: You knew she was on her way? And didn’t tell me Danny: Betrayal! Danny: She and Kon haven’t made it to the apartment yet. He just left to find her Sam: Oh good. Have Ellie talk to him about the benefits of stealing child support from an unethical creator Tucker: I’m sure both Tim and I will be *thrilled* to help him out Danny: He’s not stealing his child support? Sam: Nope. He’s an idiot about it. Danny: We gotta fix that Jazz: Tell us when she’s there! Jazz: Have Tim or Kon send a picture of the two of you Danny: Really? I’m still bed bound! Jazz: Picture. Jazz: It’s an order.

Danny groaned, but he was grinning through it. His friends were the best. He closed out of the chat and pulled up a game to kill time until Ellie got there.

He only made it through a level and a half before he heard a squealed, “Danny!” and running footsteps.

Ellie came to an abrupt stop at the side of his bed. Her hoodie had a few new patches since the last time he saw her, and she was frowning as she looked him over. “Are you really going to be okay?”

Danny held out an arm. “Come here, gremlin.”

She hesitated, but when he didn’t say anything else, she climbed into bed with him and Danny wrapped his arm around her in a gentle hug. He wished he could hug her tighter, but this would have to do.

“I’ll recover. Promise. I’m already doing better.”

“This is you doing better?” sniffed Ellie.

Danny winced. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. “I know. It’s a lot. Feels like a lot to me, too. But I’m okay. Or I will be.”

She sniffed and turned her face into his shoulder. Her voice was so soft he could barely hear it. “I can’t lose any more brothers.”

Danny’s eyes burned at that and he patted her shoulder. “I’m safe now. I promise. You’re not gonna lose me.” He wiped away his own tears as she shook under his arm. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and wished things had been different in so many ways.

-----

A wild Danielle appeared! I've been waiting to introduce her. Next big introduction will be some of Tim's siblings.

Honestly, there's a few things I was excited about introducing this segment! Can you guess the other big reveal I've been sitting on?

I'm going to wait to write any more of Arc 3 until I get all of Arc 2 on AO3. I've ended up rewriting more than I planned on, so editing is taking longer than I expected. Also the wrist. That hindered things a bit, too.

If you want notifications when I update, please check out my Subscription Post.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #tim drake #eventual dead tired #wolf writes #i love that i was finally able to bring in ellie #shes struggling too #(and danny has some misconceptions about her)#but theyre together now #ellie and kon are gonna cause all the shit #once ellie is sure danny isn't going to die on her

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euovennia · 1 year

Note

I am yet again requesting headcanons for the 141 (or whoever you want <3) with a reader who has an angry resting face. And to add onto that, they are very expressive with their love but it comes off as aggressive (not on purpose) because they always look, you know, mad. Like when reader says "I love you," it sounds like a threat and really, they look like they wanna kill them, but they don’t.

whew, i'm so sorry for the wait on this! i took a small break from tumblr so i could focus on finishing some assignments i had for my classes, but they're all completed and turned in so i should be good for now! also i wasn't 100% sure if you wanted this to be platonic or romantic, so i tried to write it to where it could be interpreted as both. thank you for requesting and, as always, i hope you enjoy :)

warnings: none other than the fact that i don't know how to stop myself from typing more than i need to

summary: the 141 learns to adjust to life with their newest recruit; you.

john 'soap' mactavish

when price first introduces you to the group, he can't help but feel like he's done something wrong

and honestly no one can really blame him for feeling that way

the expression that paints your face when you make eye contact with him practically screams, "sleep with one eye open"

and while it is mildly terrifying, he only sees it as a challenge

because in his mind, if he can get the mighty ghost to warm up to him, he can get anyone to warm up to him

so as soon as price cuts you loose from the brief introductions, he's already right by your side pestering you with various questions

and while it was a bit off-putting, you weren't really surprised because price had already told you all about soap before he decided he wanted you on his team

so you just kinda stood there and let him fire off his questions while answering them with that angry expression and bored monotone voice that he can't help but love

like you're standing there, arms crossed with perhaps one of the most pissed off expressions he's ever seen in his life but all his mind can think is >:(

needless to say, he doesn't take your prickly exterior too seriously and it's because of this he's able to get closer to you a lot quicker than the other members do

and it's because of this he tends to vouch for you a lot more to the other members when it comes to getting to know you

"they're not that bad, i swear!"

"johnny, they look like they wanna rip your arm off every time you're near them."

"but they don't, that's the funny part!"

best believe this man is fighting for his life whenever your rbf gets brought into the conversation

and i imagine that one day you actually manage to overhear one of these little debates/conversations (tbh they could go either way with how divided they can be over it, especially when it's gaz vs soap)

and you can't just ignore the way your heart warms as you hear soap valiantly defend your honor

it's one of the few times you're genuinely thankful for his big mouth

after listening in to the conversation for a few more minutes you eventually decide to walk away, heart full and the smallest of smiles pulling at the edge of your lips

i think it goes without saying that you go a little sweet on him after that encounter

well

as sweet as you can go when you're the human embodiment of >:(

at least in the opinion of soap

you don't really see the resemblance tbh

anyway

you start doing little things for him

things like offering to take watch for him when you're both on a mission because you noticed that he hadn't really bothered getting any rest

sitting by his side and letting him ramble on about his family, especially how he always begged his parents to let him stay with his nan over the summer because she owned a little family farm that he absolutely loved to run around on

and even the time you learned how to make scotch pie using his mom's recipe he had tucked away in his room

no matter how much he may deny it, that last one had him tearing up as soon as he took a bite

but honestly, can you blame him?

the man barely gets to visit his parents back home because of his work and it crushes him

honestly, it was probably one of the first few things he confided in you when you first started talking

so naturally when price announces that the 141 has been approved for a two week leave, you don't hesitate in logging onto the computer and buying him the first tickets back to scotland

what you do hesitate with is actually giving them to him

so you decide to gloss over that part completely and instead opt for shoving the tickets inside an plain envelope with his name scribbled on the front and a small note that simply reads, "go." before sliding it under his door the night before everyone is scheduled to depart from base

the moment soap gets his hands on those tickets he can't help the way he runs through the halls and bursts into your room to give you the biggest hug you've ever had in your life

unfortunately for you both, you'd already left base by the time he discovered the tickets

and so with a heavy heart, soap makes his way back to his room before packing his bags with a new vigor

the plane leaves in six hours, but he's so excited he can't help but want to arrive early

needless to say those are probably the best two weeks of his life

and while the others are interested in hearing all about his trip, he simply brushes them off in favor watching the door so he can be there for the exact moment you walk in

and after making him wait more than what he felt was necessary, you finally walk in

and this man

the way he shoots up from his seat and runs over to hug you

it's almost enough to send you both flying to the ground

but luckily you've got some stellar balance and manage to save yourselves from being teased by the rest of the team

but with the way soap is squeezing onto you while repeatedly whispering, "thank you," into the nape of your neck, you don't doubt they'll make fun of you for that

even with the mild embarrassment you feel, you simply wrap your arms around the scottish man and offer him a few pats on the back

and as sweet as it is for the other men to witness such a tender scene, they can't help but notice how upset you look

it's almost laughable

and as much as they want to step in and tell soap to back off, they can't help but notice the way you cling onto soap with that soft look in your eyes

so they remain quiet as you and soap hang onto each other, hearts full of warmth

kyle 'gaz' garrick

i'm gonna say it now

out of anyone in the 141, he was probably the one most intimidated by you

he's the youngest out of everyone and so it stands that, naturally, he has less experience than others

it's for this reason i think he's so keen on staying close to price

i mean the man practically plucked him off the streets and said, "you're mine now," so i think it's reasonable that gaz grows a tad more attached to price than the other members

so when he catches a few glimpses of you around base barking orders at the recruits and slamming them into the mats during sparring sessions, he's not exactly dying to meet you

even so, he finds he's not too worried about the possibility

with how often the 141 departs base to go on various missions and how you always seem to be too caught up in whatever you're doing at the time to be bothered to even glance his way, he eventually comes to the conclusion that you'll never meet

until one day price strolls into the common area where he and the rest of the team are minding their own business with you trailing right beside him looking aggravated as ever

he's already a bit uneasy with the fact you now know where the team goes to relax, but that unease slowly shifts to downright horror when price reveals that you're the newest member of the team

now gaz is usually a pretty easygoing and friendly guy so any chance to meet and bond with new people is always bound to be a good time in his book

but he can't help the shiver that crawls up his spine whenever you're around

seriously, who or what made you look so pissed off all the time?

anyway

because he's so hesitant of being around you, he tries his hardest not to bother you

which basically means he tries not to be in the same room as you

and while you may not really notice or care, the rest of the team certainly does

especially price

he's the type of man who prides himself on having a team that knows they can all rely on one another on and off the field and so he'll be damned if you and gaz are the ones to ruin his little streak

so guess who gets assigned to accompany you and the recruits on your morning workouts from now on?

gaz!

and while he's not necessarily thrilled about the idea of being forced into such close proximity to you, especially first thing in the morning, he respects price enough to not question his decision and just ends up going along with it

and at first he doesn't really pay you much attention in an effort to not do anything to accidentally make you even more upset than he already assumes you are

but then he starts to notice something

he notices the way the recruits light up whenever they see you, whether it be during the morning workout sessions or when you're walking around base

and it baffles him because you just look so upset, he can't possibly imagine why they're all so keen on sending you wide smiles or enthusiastic waves

but one day he looks just a little bit closer and he can see the faintest hint of amusement on your face as your lips showcase the ghost of a smile

that's when he really starts to pay attention

and suddenly he can't help but feel a little ashamed of himself

because now he can practically feel his heart melt every time you interact with the recruits

like how you would bring extra ice-cold water bottles to the morning workouts for the recruits who'd forget to bring their own

or the way you wouldn't hesitate to slide them some money if they mentioned being hungry while you were around

and especially how you don't hesitate to lend an ear for them if they seemed to be troubled by something

it's in those few little moments that he can see just the tiniest cracks through your annoyed expression and heated glares

you're not angry at all, he decides, just real shit at expressing yourself

and upon deciding this, he realizes you're not so scary anymore

so now instead of avoiding you like the plague, he actively seeks you out

at first it's to help you out with carrying the extra water bottles for the recruits in the morning and planning the workouts for the week

but then it turns into him asking to sit with you at the mess hall over dinner and keeping each other company in the commons area

and as much as he tries not to, he can't help the giddiness that floods his body when you start to show him that aggressive love he sees you dish out to the recruits

shoving snacks into his hands when you notice he hasn't eaten in a while

quietly sitting with him while he goes through paperwork because you both know he has a tendency to get distracted

and his personal favorite, draping your jacket over him when you walk in on him sleeping anywhere that isn't his room

he always wakes up with a smile tugging on his lips

and despite how cold and distant you may look while doing these things, he doesn't give it much attention anymore

not when he can see the love and care that's reflected in your eyes

simon 'ghost' riley

despite you and ghost having similar exteriors, it becomes more and more apparent to gaz and soap that you're actually quite different

which isn't a bad thing, of course! just a bit unexpected

but it's because of this striking difference that you and simon tend to keep a majority of your interactions on the field

and you both are more than happy to keep it this way

gaz and soap however, are not

so naturally they put together a plan; a plan that consists of soap giving you his most treasured tactical pen so you can use it to write away in that little journal of yours on the ride back from missions just so he can later "confront" ghost and admonish him for stealing said pen

and during all this, gaz simply remains on the sidelines just looking pretty

anyway

after laying into simon for a good ten minutes, soap walks away from the encounter with a small smile before walking up to gaz and saying something like, "now we wait"

and they do wait

patiently

but after a full two weeks pass by and neither gaz or soap can find any evidence of their so called "master plan" working, they can't help but feel a little discouraged

unbeknownst to them, it totally worked

just not in the way they envisioned

you see, by the time soap came up to simon to lecture him about stealing his pen, ghost had already come to notice you scribbling into your notebook with it

so once soap had finally decided to leave him alone, he immediately confronted you about framing him for such a crime

but you just kinda stare up at him with that annoyed look of yours before revealing soap had willingly given it to you

and things just kinda click into place for the two of you; soap wanted to get you talking

and while you and simon had to admit it wasn't a bad plan, you didn't want to give the scotsman the satisfaction of knowing it had actually worked

so whenever you and simon find yourselves in the company of the rest of the team, you decide to remain distant

but when it's just the two of you?

you're straight chilling

especially when you visit him in his room or vice versa

like just imagine the two of you drinking tea that simon was nice enough to make and watching war movies while bashing all the inaccuracies and bad calls the characters make

or when the two of you are out and about on base free from the prying eyes of gaz and soap because they're out doing their own thing

you and simon love finding random groups of rowdy soldiers just to intimidate them

i don't know about you, but i can definitely see simon just standing there with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed while you rest your hands on your hips with your lips pulled into a frown

price definitely gets complaints about the two of you

he does nothing about them

and for a while that's pretty much the gist of how you and simon spend your time together

but i like to imagine that after a particularly rough mission, simon would seek you out just to sit with you

and i can see him as a stress smoker so when he finally does manage to find you and take a seat beside you, you slide him a pack of cigarettes and a lighter

he doesn't ask how you know his cigarette preference, but instead gives you a small nod of approval before pulling up his mask over lips and taking a drag

and that's how you spend your night

just sitting beside each other as you watch the evening sky gradually begin to fill with stars

i think it would depend on how bad the mission went in order to determine exactly how long the two of you stay sitting under the stars, but it doesn't matter because it'll end the same way; you reaching over and giving simon's hand a quick squeeze with a small, "get some sleep, simon. you need it," before you walk away

and he finds himself confused to two reasons

reason one: why did you grab his hand why did he like it?

reason two: how can you say such sweet words but still look so mad?

as much as he wants to play that moment over in his head just to make sure he was remembering things right, he decides against it in favor of heeding your words and getting some sleep

but it's after that moment he can't help but notice how your mannerisms have changed

not only are your words of reassurance more apparent than before, he's also noticed you have a tendency to give his hand/shoulder a reassuring squeeze every now and then

he can't help the small smile that threatens to pull at his lips when you do

but he also can't help but notice how distant and reserved your face looks when you do all of these things

he doesn't really mind it though

but he eventually does bring it up to you one day

it's probably after he tells you one of his god awful dad jokes

like he'll look over at you and notice your sour expression and say something like, "don't look so pissed, they're not that bad."

and you'll respond with a tilt of your head as you tell him, "i'm not pissed. i like your jokes."

then he'll nudge your shoulder before telling you, "with that face? coulda fooled me."

and you'll roll your eyes in faux annoyance as you brush him off with a simple, "that's just my face."

and then he'll look down at you, thankful for his mask so you can't see the small smile making its way onto his face

he might even say something dumb and cheesy like, "i know. i like it."

and you give him one of your rare smiles

and i could end it there and say the two of you are bffs

or i could sprinkle in something about soap running up on the two of you chanting, "my plan worked, my plan worked!"

that's for you to decide

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s1m0nth3swag · 13 days

Note

Hello, Simon! I enjoyed reading some of your recent works for Francis Mosses 🥺 is it okay to request for period comfort? keep it SFW please! I'm just in a emotional rollercoaster right now because of it and I don't see much sfw works of Francis here on Tumblr. Thank you so much in advance! 🤎

Tysm for the ask anon, so sorry it took this long!

I've been working on some personal projects recently and have had less time to write (especially since I now have to actually take care of some of my grades because some aren't looking too good.... whatever, though I'm balling through, it'll be fine)

Also, I'm so so sorry this is short because, uhm, how do I write about period comfort when all I usually do is ball through and act like the tough man I totally am (not)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; GN!Reader but mentioned to be afab due to having Periods, established relationship but not having been together for that long, Francis is a little silly and unsure at first because that man wouldn't know what to do and I stand by that statement.

When you had woken up this morning, you had immediately known. Just that feeling of being uncomfortable, as if your body needed to make extra sure to signal you that you weren't pregnant. You groaned in annoyance, wanting to sleep for a little longer, but if you did that, you'd probably end up having to change your bedsheets, and that's the last thing you wanted to do right now. So, instead, you trotted to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend Francis was absolutely confused. You weren't the type to get up early, especially not when he was staying over. Usually, you'd snuggle up to him, wrap your arms around his waist to keep him in bed with you. He figured you maybe just needed to go to the toilet, though something seemed a little off. He didn't pay it much mind, though, simply drifting off into a state of being half asleep again. At least until you practically fell into bed, making the mattress creak. "Francis." You grumbled, moving to press your face against his neck like you'd always do when he stayed over and was still with you in the morning. "Mm?" He hummed, his hand coming up to carefully run through your hair. "Got my period." You huff, your face scrunching in annoyance. Francis is caught off guard for a moment. "At least you aren't pregnant?" He mutters, trying to lighten your mood, though that only results in having you hit his chest softly. He really doesn't know what to do. He never had to deal with this before. "What usually.. I don't know.. helps? Makes it better?" He asks. Francis has heard of buying chocolate or making a hot water bottle, though he really wants to make sure not to just assume what might be good for you. "Just stay for now, okay?" You ask, snuggling further against him.

The two of you stay cuddled up in bed for a while, with you getting into some, for Francis, very weird positions just to relieve some of the pain. He starts massaging your lower belly at some point, which makes you comfortably rest against him so he can keep going. He figures that this helped your cramps, though you aren't really a big talker right now. He's just glad you aren't getting sappy on him or worse. Francis reminds himself to stop thinking in stereotypes. You fall asleep at some point, and he has half a mind to get a blanket over the two of you while he tries not to fall asleep as well - he feels like he should be awake once you wake up. He wouldn't want to have you have to do something alone when he could be helping you.

The next few hours are mostly you being asleep and Francis drifting off just to jolt awake again. Once you wake up, Francis gets you water and, because you now specifically asked for it, made you a hot water bottle to help the cramps. You put on a movie while he was gone, some romantic one that he knew you had watched at least twice before already. Not like he minded, though. Wasn't his place to judge. He settled beside you again, making sure to carefully place the bottle on you, letting you adjust it yourself. "You alright?" He hums, resting his head against yours. "Obviously not. I'm actively bleeding, Francis." You huff, rolling your eyes playfully as you shift closer to him. "Honestly, though, as good as I could be right now." You then answer, sighing as you close your eyes to bask in your boyfriends presence.

You stay cuddled up like that, watching the movie together. Francis gets up at some point to make both of you a tea, making sure yours is a Green tea after searching for what tea helps with cramps. He's generally just very mindful of you, even offering to run to the store to get you anything you want - which in all honesty almost makes you tear up because he's just too sweet - but you just want him with you, and that's all that counts.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x you #thats not my neighbor #x reader #francis mosses headcanons #francis mosses x reader #milkman that's not my neighbor #milkman x reader

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wittlesissyb4by · 4 months

Text

Good Cop, Bad Cop

"You okay, hunny?"

*sniff sniff sniff* "Uhn..uh huh!!"

"Awww don't cwy baby! Daddy was pretty rough with you wasn't he?"

*sniffles* *nods*

"Ohhh I know it hurts, baby. Daddy can spank pretty hard huh?"

"Y-y-y-yes Mommyy..." *sniffles*

"But you're not going to be a bad gurl anymore are you?"

"N-no m-m-ma'amm!!"

"I didn't think so. And i'm sorry you had to wear the big plug today, but what Daddy says goes. You understand that, right?"

"Y-yes Mommy..."

"You're not the man of the house anymore, are you?"

"N-no..."

"Nooo, not anymore! He wears the pants! What is it you wear, dear?"

"D-diapers..."

"Diapers! That's right. Cause you're Mommy's baybee gurl!"

*smiles* "Mhmm..."

"Hehehe you're starting to like your diapers, aren't you?"

"...Y-yes Mommy..."

"This is where you belong, isn't it?"

"Yes Mommy!"

"You're not gonna fight it anymore, are you? You're not gonna make Daddy have to spank you again?"

"N-no Mommy! No fighting!"

"That's a good gurl! You're being so good! You used your diaper real good today didn't you??"

"Yes Mommy! All the messes! Pee pee and poo poo's!"

"Well...not all the messes..." *places hand between his legs.*

*gasp*

*squeezes the crotch* "You want Mommy to rub it?"

"Mhmm!!"

"You gonna tell me what a pretty pampered princess you are?" *crinkle crinkle*

"Mmmm! I'm a pwetty pink pwincess!!"

*crinkle crinkle crinkle* "You like your diapers, baby?"

"Yes Mommy! I wuv my diapurrs!"

"I love it when you wet and mess them." *crinkle crinkle* "You know that right? I love seeing how much power I have over you! I own you!"

"Yes Mommy...I'm your baybee gurll!"

"You arrre! You are! My little cucky too!"

"Yes Ma'am! I luv you and Daddy both!"

"Daddy gets to fuck my pussy. What do you get to fuck, cuck?"

"Pissy pampers, Mommy! I hump pissy pampurrs!!"

"That's right hunnyy!!" *pats bottom* "How's your plug?"

"Big, Mommy! It's weally big!"

"How does it make you feel?"

"...-f-full Mommy..."

"Like you got a big full diaper?"

"Mhmm!!"

"Awww! Perfect!!"

"Nnngghh"

"Heheheh, what's the matter?? Why you getting all quaky?"

"I'm...i'm gonna...I'm gonna..."

"You gonna make a goo goo?"

*nods* "Mhmmm!!"

"D'awww! Look at you! Squirming like a sissy! You gonna cum in your diaper?"

"Y-yes Mommy!! Yes!!"

"Cum in your diaper baby. Just like a little bitch. I wanna hear your girly moans!"

"Unhhh!! Ahhh!! OhhohOHHOHHoh!! I'm cumming Mommy! I'm making a goo goo0oo0oo"

....

"Was that good, hunny? Did you enjoy that?"

"Yes Mommy."

*peeks inside* "Oh my, you made quite the mess in there!"

"Y-yea..."

"You keep being a good girl and you'll get to make lots of goo goo's. Only in your goodnites of course..."

"Yes Mommy..."

*pats bottom* "Now waddle back in there to Daddy, tell him you're sorry, and give him some suckies. I want you to get him ready for me. All of this has gotten Mommy very worked up!"

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

New Tumblr, new everything. If you like captions like this, consider Supporting me so I can keep them (and you) cumming ;)

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becsabillion4 · 3 months

Text

take it out on me (carmen berzatto x reader)

so this is my first time posting a fic of mine on tumblr since i was 14 and i'm slightly terrified by the formatting but i posted this on ao3 yesterday and someone told me to post here too (<3) so i hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoy the thought of getting pounded by carmy in the walk-in

pairing : carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary : Carmy is having a terrible service, and you're sure some time in the walk-in will help him cool off (although it gets hotter in there than you might think).

word count : 4,410

tags: SMUT, rough sex, angry sex, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, choking, semi-public sex, ending with soft carmy which makes it all okay, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and also this is NOT an advert for safe sex, it is merely a fantasy i have been playing with since my own days as a waitress and carmy has helped me to realise it. also i'm obsessed and i know y'all degenerates won't send help so instead i ask that you send me asks so i can write more about this wonderful man

Disorienting. Overwhelming. Stressful, painful, unrelenting. Burning your hand hard enough for it to stick to the pan, hard enough that you know on the way to the sink it’s too late, that you’ll bear the scar of that mistake for the rest of your life. Knives slicing always so close to your skin, living on the point of pain, focus trained so hard on the blade you can’t even blink. Shouting, screaming, the place could be on fire, and you wouldn’t look up from the art you’re creating. Flames licking at your apron. Beautiful.

Kitchens are the prison and the heart of a chef, and the one at The Bear is currently the pride and the bane of your life. Plating up your one billionth focaccia of the evening as Marcus rushes by holding a tray of cannolis aloft, you try to tune out Sydney shouting instructions to the new servers, trying to drill something, anything, into their panicked, under-developed skulls.

But none of this worries you. What worries you is the ominous, creeping silence from the station to your right, where you know Carmy is cooking up not only the best food you’ve ever tasted, but an internal storm that is going to be unleashed any, second, now-

“Chefs! Where the fuck is my garnish? Tina, are you dead? ‘Cos you need to wake the fuck back up.”

Tina is already by Carmy’s side with the garnish, but the damage is done. She doesn’t bristle at his words, but shoots you a worried look as she slides by, murmuring, “Sorry, Chefs. Behind.”

Since you started working at The Bear six months back, you’ve witnessed a rare few Carmy outbursts, and you know everyone feels the same way when they happen. It’s like the moment you miss a step on familiar stairs, stomach lurching and fear sweeping through your body. Carmy is this kitchen, and his boiling point is the moment things tend to spin out of control.

And yet, Tina’s reaction is everyone’s; disappointment in herself, instant forgiveness because she knows Carmy is doing everything he can for this team. Last week, after you and Sydney spent the evening getting wasted on her couch, she’d confessed to you how hard Carmy took his notorious opening night failure, and how he’s been struggling to make up for it since then. And it’s been working; his kindness, patience, and passion for elevating those around him have always outshone the occasional harsh word during service.

But this service is just bad. It’s been bad since 5AM, when you got here to take in the delivery and found out that the grapes needed for the welcome broth had somehow been left off of the order. It’s been bad since Marcus ruined three batches of cannolis in a row, and when Sydney tried to touch his shoulder and ask him what was going on, he stormed out. Since Sydney snapped at Richie for singing Taylor Swift badly during family. The hundred little underlying frissons of tension that normally dissipate as soon as service rolls around have congealed today, like oil in balsamic vinegar, rubbing together but refusing to meld into the team you know everyone can be.

And you know Carmy can feel it. His anger is a physical thing beside you, like standing next to a hot pan with too much oil in it and just waiting for it to start spitting at you. Knowing you have to keep stirring it anyway.

“Four top, two steak, one bucatini, one fish,” Sydney rattles off, and everyone responds “Yes, Chef!” a little too loud.

“Can I get some hands for this focaccia,” you shout through the din, pushing the two boards forward, but nobody responds. “Hands, please, get these off my station before I eat ‘em!” you call, trying to bring some levity to the atmosphere before-

“Hands, fuckin’ hands, Chefs, FUCK!” Carmy explodes, appearing by your side so suddenly you almost jump. His hands hover over the foccacia boards like he wants to adjust something on them, fix something, but you know as well as he does that they’re perfect already.

And of course, this just makes things worse.

Carmy properly looks up for the first time, straightening out of the “chef about to have an aneurysm over plating this fish” posture and into his “everyone here is about to get fucked” pose. “These are good to go, why are we not? Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. Go fuck yourselves-” one of the new waitresses approaches with trembling hands and Carmy pushes the boards at her, disgusted, almost taking them over the edge of the pass, “-all of you, what is the point of any of us being here if nothing is leaving the fucking kitchen!”

“Carm, it’s okay, they’re going out,” you can’t help cutting in, but you should know better than to try to soothe a wild animal. Carmy doesn’t say anything, turns back to plating up his fish, but his beautiful artist’s hands, which you often find yourself trying to draw in the margins of inventory checks, are shaking now. You’ve never seen him this bad. The whole kitchen waits on a knife edge. You glance up, watching the waitress leave with your focaccia, and have a brief but fervent desire to be her as the doors swing her out of this hellhole.

The fish is beautiful as Carmy puts the finishing touches to it. A server steps up to take it as other dishes for the same table coalesce at the front of stations, all elegant, all perfect, all more than worthy of the restaurant’s Michelin star.

Carmy is completely still. Staring. And you know it’s too late.

Plunging his fist down, he crushes the fish into sea-scented pulp. The shells of oysters, hand-selected, crack into broken-mirror shards; the sauce is peppered with shoddy scraps of lobster tail.

It’s still not enough for Carmy, as he picks up the plate and sends it spinning into the back wall, narrowly missing Sweeps’ head. “ Shit, ” Carmy mutters, turning back to his station and searching for more things to destroy. You watch him contemplate the knives, and you can’t stay out of it any longer.

“Carmy. Chef. Carmy,” you say as you reach out to grab his muscled arm, pulling him round to face you. You can feel the tension corded deep under his skin, see the sheen of sweat coating his tattoos. Normally, any skin contact with him sends your brain into overdrive, but you can’t afford to be anything but calm right now.

His eyes are wild, but you watch him steadily, and he watches you straight back. You’re not sure why, but the moment reminds you of how you felt on those rare occasions he invited you and Syd over to brainstorm new recipes in his cramped kitchen. Especially that time Sydney couldn’t make it, and you were midway through describing your idea for a yuzu-infused scallops course to him - “with maybe, like, a garnish of broccoli just absolutely smothered in hollandaise” - when he reached forward, tucked a scrap of hair behind your ear, and the very idea of food whisked straight out of your head - but you still felt hungry. And whilst he’d tried out your broccoli idea over and over again that night, you found yourself blushing every time he passed you a spoon to taste it.

You never could get that dish right. Every time you thought about it, you couldn’t separate the flavours from the curious look in his eyes, the way he drank in your ideas, absorbed them before he responded, how his eyes tracked every thought that crossed your face.

Now here you are again, staring at that measured, thoughtful man turned savage, and you wonder if you have the guts to do what you’ve been thinking about doing for a while.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you murmur beneath the clatter of plates behind you, just for him. You don’t look away even when you hear something shatter. You move your hand from his arm, up over his shoulder, push your palm into the curve of his neck and hold it there.

Then you wait, feel his shoulders jumping up and down with his rapid breathing. Wait until he leans into it a little, chasing your solidity, and it’s all the response you need.

“Come with me.” It’s not a question, but he nods anyway.

“Sydney, you got this?” You ask, never taking your eyes from Carmy’s face, worried that if you do, you’ll lose whatever grip you have on him right now.

“Yes, Chef,” she replies, and you feel her edge round the side of Carmy to put another fish on rapid fire. He catches her eye as she passes, and brings his hand up to his chest, rubbing it once in what has become the team’s official way to apologise during service. She responds in kind, and he lets you drag him off the station, past the others shooting him worried looks, straight into the walk-in.

You shut the door carefully, recalling the stories of Carmy’s previous imprisonment. It’s still securely closed, giving you both some calm and privacy to cool off.

Except cooling off is not really what you have in mind.

You turn to see Carmy slumped in the corner, curled in on himself and running his hands through his already-chaotic hair. He stands again suddenly, bracing his hands on the wall behind him as if to remind himself they exist.

“Carmy.”

“Yeah, shit. Sorry, I just need a second. It’s just, I didn’t sleep at all last night. I was thinking about doing something with ceviche, but I couldn’t figure out what fish would work best, and then that sorta spiralled into a panic attack which kept me up whisking eggs for something until three, and then-” You watch his eyes darting over the shelves around him as he talks, and you realise he’s taking stock of what’s there. Even during a full-blown meltdown, he cannot stop working, stop thinking. He starts pacing.

“Carmy,” you say again as you try to catch his eye. He’s staring at some spare T-bones like they’ll explain to him whatever dish he was whisking eggs for last night. Fuck it. You grab his chin, tilt it until he has to look at you.

“D’you know the best way to calm down?”

“Lock yourself in the walk-in for three hours?” He’s trying to relieve some tension, but you have other ideas on how to handle that.

“Sex, Carmy.”

There. You’re terrified that you finally acknowledged it, finally confessed to what you’ve been thinking about for months, but thank God it’s out in the open. You’ve been blushing at his compliments on your food for far too long, ignoring how good he looks in a white tee for even longer. And today has been such a shitshow it can’t possibly get any worse by admitting to this too.

You wait for Carmy to shut it down, laugh it off, maybe even fire you, but he just looks shellshocked. Then again, that is his default look.

“I, um…” He rubs a hand over his forehead, glances up at you almost shyly. “I mean, um. What?”

“Listen, you’re fucking up service. You’re distracted, tired, stressed beyond belief. I want to help you, and I won’t pretend it’s just out of the goodness of my own heart. I’ve been interested in you for a while, Carmy. You can take that or leave it or kick me out of this walk-in if you want, but I’m here. I want to help you work through things, through all this anger. And…I want you to know you can take it out on me. And maybe even feel better at the same time.”

Carmy is flushed, and you’re all out of words. You kind of wish he was still looking at the T-bones.

“We, uh, we can’t.” Carmy leans back on a freezer for support, crossing his arms in a pose you normally associate with him working something out in his head, deciding what a dish is missing or what it needs to take it up a notch. “I mean, not now. Not here, at least. And I don’t know, we work together. I’m your boss. It’s not a good idea.” He reaches a hand round to his back, starts massaging the strain away there. It’s an especially effective position as he doesn’t have to look at you as he does it, as he says, “Sorry.”

You shrug a little, smile. Try to pretend it doesn’t hurt. Keep it professional, or as professional as you can get in a kitchen. “Hey, it was worth a shot. Get some sleep, Chef.”

You turn to go, hoping that stirring and slicing and plating up will shake off the embarrassment currently burning through to your bones.

But you don’t live to regret the offer as Carmy grabs your arm, spins you and shoves you hard enough into the walk-in door that it rattles on its hinges.

“Hey, everything okay in there Chefs?” you hear Marcus call, and it’s a reality check you absolutely don’t want right now. Carmy doesn’t even seem to have heard him, trailing kisses down your neck, collarbone, shoulder as your body arches into the feeling. You’ve had one too many fantasies about this walk-in since you started, but the actual feeling doesn’t begin to touch the dream.

“Yeah, all good Chef!” You manage to reply, but you barely get the ‘Chef’ out before Carmy’s lips slide over yours, pushing, demanding entry as his body keeps you pressed up against the door. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place, is all you have time to think between kisses.

There is no room or time for playing around. Carmy needs this, and you intend to provide, but you’re damn sure getting everything you can out of it just in case it never happens again. One of your hands curls deep into his hair, pulling his head back as your teeth click together in the ferocity of the kiss. You swear you can taste blood, but neither one of you pulls back, the saltiness only urging you on. Your other hand is busy loosening his belt, and you tug it hard to pull the silver prong free of the leather, hard enough that his hips jerk forward into yours and you moan, long and low.

Gravity suddenly spins on its axis as Carmy lifts you, turns and drops you down onto the freezer Fak installed last week. And for once in your life, thank you, Fak. The movement seems to shake Carmy out of it for a second, and he pulls back, hesitates. A hand curves around your cheek, and you can feel an apology coming, see the reticence forming in his eyes. And honestly, fuck that.

You hook fingers through his belt loops, dragging him closer and then using them to tug his trousers down. You’re not gentle as you reach into his underwear, wrap a hand around his cock, and you can tell that’s what he needs as he hisses, his head drifting back.

Removing his hand from your cheek, you guide it slowly down to your neck. His head snaps up, and there’s a darkness, a need, that wasn’t there before as you move your hand slowly, torturously, down his length.

“Hey,” you whisper, reluctant to interrupt the low grunts spilling from him with each of your movements. “I’m not going to break.”

You squeeze his fingers around your throat a little tighter, and it’s this that has him surging forward, messy mouths pressing together again and everything condensing into a rippling, burning, rightness as the fingers of his other hand shove themselves between your legs.

He lingers there for a moment, breaths short and sharp in your ear as he breaks free from your kiss and whispers, “If we had more time, I would clean up the mess you’re making all over my freezer, Chef.”

“My apologies, Chef,” you pant, the sweetness of the apology marred slightly by your fingers tugging hard through his curls. Then you’re pushing up his white shirt at the back, reveling in the heat of him, the muscles straining under your touch. “What’s my punishment?”

Carmy hesitates, then withdraws his fingers from you slowly, and it feels like the calm before the storm. One hand is still pressed loosely around your neck as he brings the other up to your face, runs the edge of his still-wet fingers over your lips. Asking or demanding, you don’t know, but you’re happy to comply. His pupils are blown so wide you can barely see the blue behind them, and when you slide your mouth over his fingers, taste yourself on him, he closes them in momentary bliss. And it’s so beautiful to see that you can’t resist pulling him in to share.

A Michelin-star chef with one of the most sophisticated palates on the planet. A renowned food critic once wrote of him, “In my next life, I’d like to be just one of the taste buds in Carmen Berzatto’s mouth.” And here he is, savouring you, tongue searching out every corner of your mouth as if he wants to figure out each and every component of your taste. Add the recipe of you to his menu, and make it every night.

You’re both done waiting, and the clock is ticking. You can faintly hear Sydney calling orders through the wall, although she sounds steadier now. You don’t know whether anyone out there knows what you’re doing, but a rampaging elephant couldn’t stop Sydney when she’s on a roll.

Carmy pulls you closer to the freezer’s edge, jeans and underwear falling to his ankles and suddenly he is right there, and-

“Oh, fuck,” is all you can say as he pushes forward in one swift, animal movement. And oh, pain flickers down your spine as he slides almost free of you and thrusts back, relentless, and this is exactly what you signed up for.

“ Fuck ,” he echoes, hand sliding down your neck to settle over your racing heart. “Fuck, you…I don’t know how you do this to me,” he pants, and you try to keep your moaning down so you can hear as words spill from him, “When you come in with your hair down before a shift, when you - ah - when you borrow my knife and I see you using it all service, when you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. Shit. You drive me crazy on purpose, and you wanna know what the worst part is?”

You can’t breathe, let alone answer him.

“The worst part is I eat that shit up every time, ” he snarls, punctuating every word with a short, sharp thrust.

This is the animal you saw tonight, spitting curses, destroying his own food, all sharp edges and uncompromising will. Grunting as he bottoms out inside you, fingers clenched around your upper thigh hard enough to bruise, littering bites over your neck as if your colleagues aren’t an unlocked door away.

But the animal isn’t the end of Carmen Berzatto. There is more to him than the bear, and you intend to remind him of that before you’re through.

“Look around you,” you pant as he thrusts again, harder, sweeter, and you have to get this out before you tip over the edge. So you risk bringing the hand you were using to support yourself forward to turn his chin towards the walk-in’s walls, to beyond them, to the restaurant hard at work and the satisfied diners metres away who have no idea what’s going on in here, and fuck if that doesn’t make it all the more delicious. “Look what you made. Look who you are.” You watch his flushed face, hope he understands the praise, but you can’t hold on anymore to see your words land.

“You’re fuckin’ unbelievable, Carmy,” is all you manage to choke out as every muscle in your body lights up, tenses and releases in a flood so strong you wonder if you’ll ever surface, and if you even want to.

Carmy fucks forward into you twice more, and his head drops onto your shoulder as he groans, shudders, relaxes fully for what may be the first time in his life.

You stroke a hand over his head, pull him closer. You’re not quite sure when this stopped being a no-holds-barred quickie and became a quiet, intense embrace, but it feels right. All the desperation, the keyed-up energy, is gone from him. And if he never wants anything more than that, even though the idea is more than a little disappointing, you can take consolation from the fact that you at least managed to stop a raging Carmy in his tracks.

Although it is a little quiet.

“Carmy?” You ask, hesitant to break the silence. Thankfully, it still sounds like it’s all bustle outside. You wonder how long you’ve been in here, and try not to think about how you’re going to emerge with any shred of dignity intact.

Carmy pulls back, and you can’t define the look on his face, but it worries you. His eyes shine slightly, and his gaze skips across your face, down your body, not holding your stare.

“Are you okay?” You ask, praying this isn’t about to get really awkward really quick. The man’s still inside you, for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah. I, um, I should be asking you that.” Carmy’s hands skim down your sides, fingers pressing in randomly as if to check for bruises. He tilts his head to look under your chin, as if to check he hasn’t caused any permanent damage to your neck. “Jesus. Are you alright? I’m sorry, that was rough.”

“I’m totally fine.” You don’t know what to do to reassure him, so opt for two big thumbs up. “See? Voice working and everything.”

Carmy chuckles unevenly, takes a careful step back, and you try not to consider how empty you feel and how cold and slippery the freezer now is underneath you. You hop off, catching yourself on the side when you realise just how shaky your legs are. When you glance up at Carmy, he’s just staring at you, which is, frankly, unnerving.

“Do I look that bad?” you ask, pulling your hair out of what’s left of a ponytail to start again.

“No. No, I’m just…I’m just taking you in.” The raw honesty in his eyes pins you in place for a moment. But of course, Richie shouts “ Cousin!” before you can read into it too much.

There is a moment of panicked dressing and clean-up, a nod to each other to confirm you both look relatively sane and not totally fucked (even though you doubt it), and then a collective deep breath as you push open the door of the walk-in.

You don’t catch anyone’s eye for a second as you head to your station, Carmy’s presence like an open flame behind you.

“Corner. Corner. Behind, sorry Chefs,” you call as you slide back into place. Two quick glances calm you; one at the clock - seventeen minutes - and one at Sydney, who doesn’t look like she’s about to throw up and only has three tickets in front of her. You spare a final one for Fak in his position by the door, who you are positive would be grinning gleefully if he, or anyone else in the kitchen, knew what just went down in the walk-in.

“What do you need, Syd?” you ask, picking up the familiar back-and-forth of the kitchen again with some relief.

Carmy is quiet, focused, for the last half hour of service, but you can’t keep your mind clear. As soon as last orders are sent out, you slink to the back for a cigarette, hoping the smoke will at least wipe out your brain fog. It does the exact opposite. When you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. You exhale, waving the smoke away as the words churn through your brain. I eat that shit up every time.

“Hey,” you hear, and you’re almost thankful to speak to the real him just to distract yourself from thinking about earlier.

“Hey.” You offer him a smoke, and he takes it, sinking onto the step next to you. The brush of his leg against yours is a lot more comforting than you expect it to be, relaxing a secretly worried part of you.

He takes a long drag, the kind of drag you only take when it’s been a shitshow of a day. “I just want to say I’m-”

“Sorry? It’s okay. It doesn’t have to happen again,” you finish for him. It hurts less that way.

“What? No.” He looks at you until you reluctantly meet his gaze. “Not for that. I’m not sorry about that.” He lets that hang there for a second, holds your eye. “But I’m sorry for losing my shit earlier. Nobody deserves to be around that, and…I want you to know I’m working on it. I wanna be…I wanna be good at this.” It’s a stilted apology as he thinks through every line, and it feels all the more sincere for it.

“That’s okay. I know. We all know.” You reach a hand out to touch his arm, and after a second, he lowers his head to rest on his knee, although his face is still turned towards you. You see his eyes flicker from your hand on his arm to your face.

“Although that wasn’t exactly how I expected that to go by the way,” he says after a moment.

You don’t try to pretend you don’t know what he’s referring to. “What, in the walk-in?”

“Oh, no, I’ve thought about it in the walk-in.” You ignore a pulse of feeling at his casual confession, at the idea that he’s thought about you. “I just didn’t imagine it so…heated, I guess.” Carmy raises his head again, traces a finger along your hand where it rests on his arm until you shiver. “Not that I didn’t enjoy it.”

You hesitate for a second before replying. Before extending the branch. “Well, I’m sure there’ll be other times, Chef.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and it’s your turn to watch his thoughts flickering there, watch as the fog clears, the idea forms, and he says, “Yeah. Next time.”

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wow guys thank you for reading i pray through the act of writing this that my jeremy allen white obsession will calm the fuck down, but i fear i've made it worse

if you'd like to keep up with me on ao3, you can find me here and please do send me any comments or feedback or prompt ideas, i would love to hear them <33 thank you!!

#becsabillion #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x ofc #carmy the bear #the bear #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #carmen berzatto smut #jeremy allen white #the bear fanfiction

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rosesloveletters · 5 months

Text

all is fair in love.

Pairing: 1971 Willy Wonka x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 10,261

Warnings: sexual content / smut.

Summary: The holidays are Wonka's busiest season and his work keeps him away from reader much more than either of them would like. After hours, the two spend a passionate night together as they both make the necessary arrangements to be attentive to each other's needs and empathetic of the complexity of maintaining a healthy romantic relationship that neither reader nor Wonka are accustomed to.

Author's Note: my smut fics are always between 6-10k haha so enjoy. I edited this the best I could, but for some reason I kept switching between first person and second person pov for reader (I don't know why since I always write in second person pov.) I think I fixed most of it, so if there's any parts I missed, I'm sorry. Also, I'd like to mention that Christmas isn't inherently important to the events in this story. It is used as an element only to convey why Wonka is so busy during this time of year, because most people like to buy chocolate and candy as gifts. I know Gene was Jewish, even though I believe he said he wasn't exactly religious. I have no intention of trying to be offensive/belittle/make light of anyone's religion or beliefs and I apologize if it comes across that way because it is without a doubt not my intention.

Edited.

divider created by @/saradika on Tumblr.

You’ve always believed that if you truly love someone, then you keep it a secret.

You would let that feeling freeze me down to the core – to love the way a person is meant to, but it is that same love that, inevitably and irrevocably, suffocates.

You cannot satisfy that craving the same way one might satisfy a sweet tooth. Once given a taste, it seeps down into your skin, infecting both body and mind, pierces the heart and tears it wide open.

The thundering beat inside your chest cannot be silenced. The fingertips of fate trace the spider-like, lightning-strike veins that split your heart right down the middle.

A broken heart takes love like a beating.

It all comes boiling to the surface, bubbling up and out in the breath of a second.

The truth always comes out, one way or another.

Because if you don’t let the heart have its’ way, then it will tear itself right out of your chest.

***

The days were short, but the hours were long.

You spent much of your time by yourself, as this season kept Willy preoccupied. Time marched onward and the weeks themselves seemed to drag; it was nearing Christmastime and that meant very little to you in the grand scheme of things, except that you’d be seeing less and less of your lover.

Traditionally, the holidays were a time of celebration and joy, gifts and laughter shared between friends and families alike.

However, you lived a nontraditional life now, and Willy had unwittingly shown you that the life of a chocolatier was a solitary one. You knew that the busy holiday season was what pulled him away, but his lack of attentiveness made you wonder…

The only thing that kept these thoughts at bay was the way in which he looked at you when he was around.

Willy was a difficult man to read. Whether that was intentional or not, were you still trying to determine. The only dead giveaway were his eyes – startlingly intense and piercingly blue – that bore no resemblance to subtlety.

The vastness of the heavens, it seemed, were contained within those swirling galaxies. On dark nights when the cloud cover was too thick, you traced the constellations in his eyes to guide you into his morning light.

You could see yourself peeling back the layers of his heart to get to the source of how he truly felt.

Deflect from it all he might – “I’m a trifle deaf in this ear. Speak a little louder next time–” you saw right through him and sometimes that only made him steer clear of you for longer.

It wasn’t that he did not care for you; it was quite the opposite. Perhaps the extent to which he cared was a bit overwhelming for him at times. He immersed himself in his work during these times, else his mind inevitably carried him to places he would rather not visit.

Willy Wonka’s mind was not a place any person, sometimes even himself, should ever go without a guide or a distinct way back.

Though anyone with half a brain could tell that the amazing chocolatier was a troubled man on occasion, his true nature shone through in his creations. Something about this season’s batch of chocolate was a touch sweeter than ones previous. It would go undetected by those who did not have a refined palate, but like the saying goes, a true artist would put their blood, sweat and tears into their work and Willy Wonka was a mastermind.

He knew exactly what he was doing and what he meant to convey, if only between himself and one other: the world’s most famous chocolatier was in love.

***

You sat on the plush sofa in the personal wing of the factory, a book in one hand and a mug of hot chocolate in the other. You were nestled beneath a thick-knit, purple blanket as you read and waited on Willy to return to your den for the night.

You saw less and less of him the closer it got to the holidays, but such was the nature of his business. Christmastime was one of the busiest seasons and the one in which he made most of his money (the second being Valentine’s Day.) People bought exorbitant amounts of candies and chocolate during the holidays and so Willy was forced to expedite production (though never sacrificing quality) and work long, difficult hours preparing new and exciting treats for the public. In fact, it was no well-kept secret that Willy Wonka unveiled his newest creations around this time of year and that very news was plastered in every newspaper, magazine and bulletin across the world as people anticipated the exciting, brand-new sweets there would be to try.

You knew the excitement and rush of the season fed into Willy’s own excitement over his work. He was thrilled to be working on new ideas and expressing himself through his creativity and imagination. It meant the world to him and so you did your best to stay out of the way. You did not want to make the situation about you and, after all, he always made it up to you.

He was aware that his absence bothered you and he tried not to think about the fact that he may or may not be doing irreparable damage to your relationship.

Not every difficult time or situation was an attack against you. It wasn’t personal, nor was it anyone’s explicit fault. Willy had a factory to run, Oompa-Loompas to manage and ideas to manifest into reality. Sometimes, your relationship would take a backseat and if you were serious about being with him, then you would have to be alright with that and you were, although that did not mean that it didn’t hurt from time to time.

It would have been nice to relax and enjoy the season with your lover without his work getting in the way. You would have loved to curl up with him, sitting at opposite ends of the couch and enjoying lots of hot chocolate and hours of warm conversation. If you had your pick, you’d gladly have him here with you now, trading the book in your hands for his warm body, his fingers linked perfectly into the spaces between yours.

You reasoned that this was just how things would have to be for now. No sense in adding more pressure on him by complaining. He was aware of how you felt, but sadly there was nothing to be done about it. You never would have dreamed of asking him to pick between his work and you. That would not have been fair or right. You could handle this, for now, but deep down you missed him terribly.

Even if you chose to spend time with him inside the factory part of the building, he would be working the whole time. There simply was no time for much of anything else. He did like when you would drop by because you were his faithful little taste-tester. Better to try it out on you before selling it to the masses – that would seem cruel, knowing that his candies have had certain negative effects on people in the past, but rest assured, Willy had never given you anything that might harm you.

Any candy which made its way to you had been tested and re-tested to perfection before it ever passed between your lips.

He wanted feedback on his candy before it left the factory and you were more than happy to offer it to him, to which he was enthusiastically grateful. The only problem was, true to inventor fashion, he asked for feedback on everything. He wanted your opinion and was asking for it increasingly often these days. When you didn’t show up to the inventing room on certain days, he’d bring a whole box back to your shared living space and eagerly watch you with anticipation of your positive remarks as you were asked to try every piece.

He was always so grateful to you for that and, honestly, you didn’t mind. You liked candy and chocolate, so there was no reason you couldn’t afford him this act of kindness.

The only thing you really felt like you were missing was him and it plagued your mind most often while you were alone, which was of course very often. You kept yourself busy and occupied your thoughts with other things as much as you were able, but when you settled in for the night, your loneliness crept in and took up the space beside you that would have otherwise been occupied by your beloved chocolatier.

You didn’t mind your alone time, but too much of it was not ideal.

Too much of a good thing came with a price and now it seemed you were paying it with interest.

The sound of a door opening and shutting pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced down at your book to realize you’d just had it propped open against your knees this whole time and hadn’t read a bit. You marked your place and closed it with a huff, setting it down on the end table beside you, your mug of half-drank cocoa with it.

A quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall – thank God he hadn’t cut that one in half – showed that it was ten minutes after midnight.

It did not come as a surprise that Willy was so late. It was only your wildest guess as to what he had been working on, but that point was moot. You did not really care what he was working on.

That thought seemed harsh and you frowned; no, you were adamantly against resenting him for his work. That path was one you would not let yourself go down, a trap of codependence, you told yourself, but why couldn’t he just be a little more present with you? Surely it wasn’t too much to ask.

Perhaps you would ask.

It would make the most sense to be upfront with him about how you were feeling and to be as direct as possible.

You did not move from the couch. You waited on Willy to come and find you, unlike the many days and nights when you might have greeted him at the door.

Several quiet moments passed between yourself and your thoughts before Willy entered the room. He had shed his purple coat at the door, as well as his hat and cane, “there you are, my dear,” his gentle tone made your stomach clench as warmth pooled in your abdomen. Even troubled with doubts, you were still delighted to see him.

You watched as he approached and dropped himself on the opposite end of the couch. He nudged your knee with his, silently asking for a bit more space which you politely gave, “I would have been back sooner, but I’ve been so busy, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Yes, it is that time of year,” you replied coolly. You didn’t want to jump into the meat of the discussion too soon, otherwise he might take offense where there was none.

He seemed in a good enough mood that perhaps this would be the perfect time to strike.

“Yes, my dear, it’s the holiday season which does wonders for my business and I couldn’t be happier.”

His pride in the work he was doing warmed your heart. You listened to him for a while as he recounted what he had been working on that day.

He cared so much and spoke so passionately, yet your mind began to wander.

“Is everything alright, my dear?”

His tender voice captured your attention and you blinked slowly, “yes, I’m fine. But, there is something I would like to talk to you about.”

His lips hitched into a faint smile, then flattened into a serious line. It bothered you, not being able to read his face.

“There is? Well, you know that you can always talk to me about anything on your mind.”

You didn’t want to overwhelm him, not when he was already so fully immersed within his work. He needed time and space to focus. He did not need you hindering his creative flow by hanging all over him and demanding more attention. He already gave so much; how could you even dare to think that he owed you more?

“I know you’re busy this time of year, but do you think it would be possible for us to spend a little more time together?” My voice cracked as I added, “I…really miss you, Willy.”

You hadn’t meant to speak with words that were laced with such pain, but in fairness you did miss him terribly. By the time he made his way to you most nights, you were already in bed or heading there and in the mornings before you’d woken up, he would be gone. It bothered you to not see him and you wanted him to hear it. He needed to know the truth if you meant to be honest with him, you only hoped he’d be able to understand that you didn’t blame him.

Conversations like this always made you second guess yourself.

By this point, you realized that he had not responded. He was probably just thinking about what he would say, but usually it didn’t take him this long to reply.

“Willy?” you gently urged him, reaching out to place your hand on his arm.

Whenever he felt the gentle graze of your fingertips against the fabric of his shirt, he glanced down, admiring the tender touch with a wistful smile on his face before he looked up at you and the emotion held inside of those ice-blue eyes was almost enough to send you over the edge and into uncontrollable sobs of relief.

You felt the tension in your shoulders beginning to dissipate. Good, he felt the same way.

He was still staring at you like there was something more on his mind. That was the way things were with Wonka and you’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t thought on more than one occasion that it’s a good thing you weren’t a mind reader because there were things that went on inside his head that should stay there. It was better that you didn’t try to trace his Machiavellian ways or make sense of the enigmatic man who so frequently surprised you with small glimpses into how he really thought and viewed the world. It was fun getting to know who he was, but the true wonderment was in not knowing him at all.

He tested your mind and all your senses, but never pushed your boundaries. He could knock you off your stride in seconds, then act as if nothing had happened. You were playing his little chess game and he was already three or more moves ahead. It had only been a matter of time before you had fallen into his hands like this.

Things were as they were because Wonka wanted them to be. His quips and wisecracks often went over people’s heads, especially because of how well-versed he was in literature and culture. He could make the whole world fall in love with him at once, then forget him as soon as they were no longer in his presence, but you believed the world adored him much more than he liked to think it did.

“I didn’t say anything sooner because I didn’t want it to seem like I was being insensitive, since I know you’re not intentionally ignoring me.”

This statement made him smile for some reason, “where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; where little fears grow great, great love grows there.” (William Shakespeare, Hamlet.)

At first, you didn’t know what to say. You had a bit of trouble discerning what he meant sometimes, missing the larger picture for deciding why he chose a specific quote at a specific time.

Seeming to read your thoughts, he let out a polite chuckle, “This is to say, even in love do the smallest doubts scare you, but when you are afraid of such little things, you are still in love, too.”

His explanation seemed to help, if only for a second.

It was true that you had your doubts, but those doubts only stemmed from love. That fear which grew inside of you had taken root, but when enough time had passed, it was the love which had bloomed from it.

Both the fear and love would come with a connection as strong as this one.

In the beginning, Willy had never dreamed of having a romantic partner. His solitary lifestyle simply lacked the means necessary to cultivate a long-term relationship. He had never desired romance or human connection of any kind. He had his factory and the Oompa-Loompas to look after; he was stretched thin as it was.

It was with sickening rapture that he sought the reason for why his heart seemed so content within your hands. He had to know the true meaning behind what he felt, even if he had to wade out in to the wild, dark depths up to his neck. He was barely treading water, sinking still, feet kicking desperately and hands reaching, clawing for purchase but there was nothing for him to grab onto. No way to steady himself as his soul careened toward what he had been running from for so long, a runaway train on the track towards trust and away from self-preservation.

At first, you wanted to be the one in control. You had your fair share of demons and setting the pace for the relationship yourself was very important to you, but neither of you wanted to go too far too fast.

You became acclimated to his world quite quickly.

You just seemed to fit right in and, with time, Wonka found himself closer to you than he had ever been with another person.

The two of you had been together for quite some time now and the red string of fate binding your hearts together was pulled taut.

It seemed that you both knew you were in the right hands and the love that grew here was stronger than any fears or doubts which gripped you.

“What scares me the most is that you’re pulling away from me,” you confessed to him, and that revelation made his eyes widen perceptibly, “sometimes I think you don’t even realize that you’re doing it.”

The conversation had shifted and Wonka realized that you were no longer just discussing his absence in light of the holidays. There was deeper emotion and meaning laced within what you were saying to him now.

He was used to being alone, as were you. The only difference was that while you had never lost hope that the right person might come along, he had done everything he could to close himself off. His heart was a precious thing and that was what the world had been after. Yes, he had closed his factory because of theft, but he put his whole heart into his work and, if anyone were to steal his heart, then there would be nothing left for the one whom it belonged to.

He made sure he guarded his heart all these years, even if he didn’t know the reason for it. It was easier to deny the very fact that love was something every person desires, even ones who have become so layered and complex that it would be difficult to imagine what a true love might look like for them.

Wonka was not afraid of anything.

However, if one thing made him apprehensive it was the idea of anyone finding him out.

Not that there was any chance of that; no one was able to think quite like him. But if anyone came close, that meant he’d cling to them forever, holding on for dear love.

His gaze shifted down to your hands that were folded in your lap and reached for one. Long, delicate fingers gently wrapping around your right hand as he brought it to his mouth.

A kiss for each finger, you counted, one two three four five…

Then, his lips made contact with your inner wrist. The sudden and unexpected brush of lips against your sensitive skin made your breath hitch.

“I promise to be more attentive,” he whispered on your skin, his hot breath tickling the inner area of your wrist, “the only one pulling me anywhere is you and I am only moving forward.”

“You’ve got to go forwards to go back.”

He had believed that, in more ways than just one, in relation to his factory and to people, but there was no going back now. Even if that were an opinion, he wouldn’t have wanted to.

Within half a second, he dropped your hand and tilted his head, leaned in close and pressed his warm lips to yours in the most sensual, tender kiss your lips had ever known.

Your heart fluttered in your chest like butterfly wings beating against your ribcage, desperate to free itself and get to his. Your soul sought the kind of connection that your mouths were getting and jealousy was an understatement.

If this was his way of making it up to you, then let it be known that you wanted nothing else for Christmas this year than a clear mind and the taste of your lover left over on your cupid’s bow.

It was all electric, body and soul alight, glistening brighter than fairy lights strung up for the season.

He tasted sweeter than his own candy and you smiled into the kiss at the very thought. He ate a lot of his own sweets, if only to test the taste, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the sugared kisses, your sweet tooth craving satisfied only by his honeyed lips.

Somewhere in the haze you found the opportunity to grip handfuls of his tawny tresses, fingers digging into the soft curls that drove your heart mad with desire. You loved his hair and so infrequently did he let you touch or comb it. It was about as unruly as he was, wild, untamed and free, just like the man it belonged to.

Your gentle tugging on his hair elicited a soft grunt from him and his lips attacked yours more feverishly, taking on a more aggressive quality now that you had accepted and encouraged him.

There was no rhyme or reason for anything that occurred while you were with him, except what was happening now.

Wonka did everything on a whim. Sleeping, eating, working…no schedule, no routine, no nonsense.

“A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.”

Perhaps the most nonsensical thing that had ever happened in Wonka’s factory was your fear that he might leave you.

Strike that. Don’t reverse it.

You didn’t want anything to change. There were more twists and turns in this man’s head than there were in his factory and you had lost yourself trying to find your way out. You never left his mind, not once. Even while he worked or spent time alone, you were in his thoughts, whether it was subconscious or not.

Your own mind didn’t register your movement as you crawled closer and sought out more of his sugary sweetness which was more potent than any nectar of the gods. Your lips devoured his, tasting every inch of the same mouth that poured prose and poetry into your ear each night that you laid with him.

He hummed pleasantly against your lips. His gentle sounds teased you; so rare was it that he ever made a sound during these moments of intimacy. Oh, how you tried, and your futile attempts filled him with great satisfaction. He had more discipline than you ever imagined; living alone for so many years without the warmth of another had taught him to go without, but desperation clung to his bones and manifested through each fervent, heated kiss.

Willy wouldn’t have described himself as needy, but he appreciated physical intimacy when it occurred and sometimes it was as necessary as any other proper communication. He wanted more than a quick romp; he craved human connection. It was completely unfounded for someone like him to want to share a connection with anyone, but here he was asking for it with his mouth on yours and your reciprocation of that same need meant everything to him.

You tested the waters, grazing your teeth along his bottom lip to determine how far he might be willing to go. He didn’t stop you. His lips simply parted, allowing entry of your tongue.

The only sound he made was a little gasp, which you swallowed as your tongue delved in to taste the inside of his mouth. Your hands were still holding the sides of his head, fingers buried deep within his unruly curls.

He helped maneuver your body closer to his, unabashedly bringing you to sit on his lap. As you settled on top of him, one of his large hands moved down to the small of your back and held you firmly in place.

You could feel the heat of his hand through your shirt. You had no grasp of how long the two of you continued to kiss like that. The passage of time, though a precious thing, was unimportant in the current moment. The only thing you demanded more of was him and you would greedily take all that he had to offer you.

You were enchanted by him. He surprised you at every turn and, if it had been anyone else, you’d have questioned where you stood with them, but wasn’t that the point? The less anyone knew about Willy Wonka, the more exciting it felt to be in his presence.

It was impossible to know whether the things he revealed about himself were true or not and there was beauty in that alone. If beauty was in the eye of the beholder, then he had the upper hand here.

You did not stop to see why his hand had suddenly been removed from your back, but any questions you might’ve wished to voice were answered when you noticed him reaching for one of the top buttons on his vest.

The steady progression of events had led you here and you were too immersed within the moment to stop him, but you wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. You were entranced, enthralled, enraptured by the whole of him and his heart belonged to yours.

The wet graze of your tongue against his cupid’s bow spurred him further, lips tangled tantalizingly with yours as his fingers worked open the buttons on his vest.

The threshold had been breached.

The moment was yours for the taking, if you wanted it and you knew that you did.

Lost somewhere between drunk on lust and in love, you began to help him unbutton, starting at the bottom of his vest and continuing until your hands met in the middle of his chest. You followed this same pattern for both rows of buttons.

Coincidentally, this journey ended right above his heart, but another one was merely beginning.

Your hands were shaking with anticipation as you looked up to notice him already gazing at you lovingly. A tender smile curved his lips like a crescent moon and the sunlight bleeding out through the cracks in your soul made the stars in his eyes sparkle.

You cupped his cheek and pressed a gentle kiss onto the bridge of his nose. His arms encircled you, holding you flush against him and his shirtsleeves rode up on his forearms, exposing just a fraction of skin with a fine dusting of sand-colored hair.

You let him hold you to him as his lips attached to your neck. You imagined when he pulled back that there would be an imprint of lips, a tattoo of his love painted across your collarbone, signifying that you belonged to him alone.

You tilted your head to give him better access and he thanked you by delivering a loving nip to the column of your neck.

You hadn’t forgotten your intention.

With hands still shaking, you reached for his vest and pulled it open. His lips detached from your neck in an instant and long, elegant fingers wrapped around your wrist, effectively stopping you from undressing him.

His eyes were crystalline pools of skylight, airy and substantially quantified by the depths within them. They had a mirror-like quality and you could see yourself reflected in them as you held his gaze for a heartbeat too long.

“Only if…this is something that we both want…”

Willy’s words of brevity filled you with wonder.

“If I’m being honest with you, Willy…I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something more than I want you now.”

That single sentence melded with and fused into his soul. In a breath-to-breath admission of consent, your words had tied his tongue with cursive letters.

He breathed a sigh of relief and held within that exhale was his own consent. You had granted him permission, assuring him that you were not offering yourself out of obligation or for complacency’s sake and that thrilled him perhaps as much as the act itself would. He felt the blood rush to his groin and he moved beneath you, shifting your body weight more onto his thigh.

Willy nuzzled your cheek, dragging his nose along your soft skin. His arms had yet to unravel themselves from around you; he wanted to take his time. However, he was increasingly aware of his own sense of desperation. It had been some time since he had last gotten into bed with a lover.

Actually, the last time he had gotten into bed with anyone was with you.

Willy had a low sex drive, but on occasion it would crop up and remind him that he was, in fact, human and had needs, whether it was simple biology or heightened by the desire to connect with the one he loved.

Whenever he thought of a lover and what had previously been just some nameless face at the forefront of his mind, that vision was now you. Yours was the love he sought; your hands were the ones meant to hold his heart.

He let go of you and shrugged off his vest.

Your lips captured his once again and he imagined this was what dreams tasted like.

He went to stand up and you quickly took the hint and moved off his lap. He got up and began unbuttoning his white undershirt while you watched. He could see the fire burning in your irises, your pupils dilated with desire as you watched his delicate fingers pop open each button.

You knew better than to rush him; a treat as sweet as him was meant to be savored.

You took this opportunity to slip your own shirt off your body. With your skin exposed, his eyes traveled across your midsection and his fingers hesitated, fumbling the button he was on. His breath hitched and you swore you heard him whisper the word “beautiful” as he gazed upon you.

Once he had recovered, the swiftness with which he finished removing his undershirt made your head spin. In his haste, he had forgotten to remove his bow tie and unbutton his sleeve cuffs, which made you giggle. He seemed flustered, his cheeks reddening once he realized, and perhaps this was the first time you had ever witnessed him with a blush on his cheeks.

You reached out to help him and a soft chuckle dripped from his lips like maple syrup, “It would appear I’ve gotten a bit ahead of myself, my dear.”

You chuckled as well as his bow tie and undershirt were removed, “well, I’ll take it as a compliment…that you seem so eager to have me.”

Your words were spoken as if in jest, but his response was anything but.

“Doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt that I love,” he quoted, his smooth baritone steeping you in the tea of his desire. (William Shakespeare, Hamlet.)

It was enough to quiet your mind and when he said it, you felt your entire world get a little smaller. Your heightened senses had inflated your soul and carried you to the clouds. You were a runaway balloon stuck in a tree and his words were the hand that enclosed around your string. You had seen vast lands and known love in its many forms, but never until this moment had you felt so much in the presence of one.

His heart knew yours better than it knew itself and the cracks left by heartbreak were filled in by your endless love for each other.

You moved in to kiss him again and his hands cupped your warm cheeks. His breath tasted as sweet as the chocolate he made, which only made sense because of how often you saw him sampling it. He kept a bit in his coat that he’d pull out and nibble upon and often would you go sifting through his pockets for little treasures and treats that he had left over. Sometimes you found such delights that it had to have been no accident that they had been left behind. No, he knew your guilty pleasure was his chocolate and he made sure to satisfy your cravings, both for chocolate and for him, as often as possible.

Your tongue slipped inside his mouth and he finally graced your ears with a very delicate moan.

His hands moved down the length of your arms to finally grab your hips. He pulled you in, your pelvis against his, and you could feel the hard press of his bulge against your thigh.

While you kissed, he began to walk you backwards toward your shared bedroom.

You could not have torn your lips apart to look where you were going even if you wanted to.

You trusted him to get you there safely, perhaps more than you had ever trusted another person or at least you hadn’t trusted anyone this deeply in a very long time. Too many others had taken a hammer to your jawbreaker heart and smashed it to more manageably sized pieces, but once broken, it could never be put back together without its’ once-pristine surface now marred with jagged cracks.

At least the breakage let the light of your soul pour out into his hands…

Willy was stained by your brokenness, his heart bruised the color of your trauma.

He had been burned before, broken in a very real way, and therefore it was never a question of if you would trust him, but how much and when. He knew how long it could take a person to truly open up if they wanted to, but for you, he was willing to wait an eternity and then some.

Time stood still and Willy had the presence of mind to remember how it felt to cradle your body to his when the only things that cemented your souls was an equal share of trust and love for one another and the mutual decision to take just one more chance.

You sighed with relief when the backs of your knees connected with the mattress.

Willy didn’t push you or press for more. His lips left yours in favor of your neck and several chaste yet sweet kisses were left along your collar bone as if his lips were asking for permission without the accompaniment of words.

In between you, you reached for his belt.

He felt your fingers wrap around the waistband of his trousers and a gentle smirk crossed his features, “after something, are we?”

His coy response made the tips of your ears get hot and you huffed, “well, it isn’t my fault that I’ve gone and gotten all excited…”

“I hope you’re not implying that it’s mine,” he replied as his smirk widened.

“I wasn’t implying anything,” your time spent with him had sharpened your wit, “I’m saying it.”

His eyes shared in your mirth, twinkling with laughter at your response. He wrapped an arm around your lower back and pulled you in. With his cheek to yours, lips near your ear, he whispered, “shall we make use of your excitement, then, dear?”

You felt a shudder run down your spine as he spoke to you, the dulcet undertones of his honeyed voice pierced you like a knife through the delicate flesh of an orange. You wanted to sink your fingers into his heart and peel it apart to devour the pieces, sustaining yourself on his love.

You nodded and he deemed it appropriate to continue. He gently pushed your hands from his belt and took on the task himself. He pulled it from the loops and laid it on the chair nearest to him.

When he turned back to you, you were already removing your pants. He smiled to himself, stopping in his tracks to admire you as you undressed. He almost wanted to help you, but held himself back. Mutual trust came at a price and he would not want to overstep any unspoken boundaries. You had not explicitly told him not to help, but you hadn’t told him to do it either and so he decided it was best to let you indicate what you wanted from him and how comfortable you were with the situation.

Neither you nor he were particularly trusting individuals. Your experiences with people who took advantage of others made you wary and skeptical, through no fault of your own. Maturity and wisdom came with age and while you had both grown and learned, you had built walls around yourselves both figuratively and literally, in Wonka’s case, to guard your hearts and protect them.

Now, you were bearing your souls to each other.

It was an unlikely thing, but you were both ready. You had known Wonka for a long time now and you had no doubt that you and he were meant to be in each other’s lives. There was a reason that you were here. Even though you might have needed a bit of reassurance from time to time, it was never because you truly thought he might leave you. Giving word to that unreasonable fear set you free, because in your heart of hearts you realized that you were not afraid at all.

You were lonely.

You had forced it down for years, but acknowledging it now was cathartic, because never again would you find yourself isolated like you had so many years before.

Willy was no stranger to isolation either. Though he had reasons other than your own, he empathized.

It was difficult, at times, for the two of you to find a rhythm. Both of you had been alone for so long that it took time to become acclimated to sharing your lives with each other, but in this moment you both knew that there was no person you would each rather share a life with than each other.

Willy was never at risk of pulling away. He was simply learning how to love you.

As soon as you pushed off your pants and stepped out of them, he was kissing you again. In a flourish of limbs and bare skin, you fell backwards onto the mattress with him. His hot lips descended over yours as his fingers linked into the spaces between your own. In all ways except for one, your two bodies were unified and, if either of you could help it, that would soon be remedied.

The mattress dipped and shifted beneath your shared weight as Willy crawled on top of you. You held his hands for as long as you were capable of doing before you needed to feel him more solidly at your fingertips. You dropped his hand, grabbed his shoulder and dug in your nails to hear him hiss into your ear and nip at your neck.

He couldn’t even finish undressing because you demanded every ounce of his attention.

Your spirits were engaged in this battle of carnality and you had consumed him, corrupted his mind and possessed him body and soul, but all’s fair in love and war, both of which you had waged fervently on his senses.

At risk of ruining the moment, he pulled away and got up to finish removing his trousers. Your chest heaved as you took a moment to catch your breath, propping yourself up on one arm.

“And here I thought…we were just getting to the good part,” I quipped. A teasing smile bloomed on my face as he turned to look down at me.

“And I thought you liked my kisses,” He replied without missing a beat.

His lopsided grin made you giggle, but the sound of his zipper being pulled down tore your attention away from the witty banter. The fire of fierce need had begun to burn bright inside your belly once again after being extinguished to mere embers only seconds ago.

You watched him kick off his trousers and make no move to pick them up.

He moved back down onto the bed and leaned into you. You met him halfway and pecked a chaste kiss onto his lips. Your bodies fit together like two immaculately chiseled sculptures whose delicate features appeared to be made of something much softer than stone.

You knew what he wanted from you now and you felt goosebumps rising on your flesh as you anticipated his caress.

He cupped your head, holding you to him as he lowered you back against the pillows. He liked to take charge of this part himself and you let him, despite the anxiety you felt at relinquishing control over yourself. You didn’t like feeling out of control, especially of your body and Willy knew this. He tried his best to make you feel comfortable and safe, never moving forward without verbal consent.

“Shall I touch you, dear?”

You reflected on his question before you nodded, swallowing thickly before you could make a sound, “yes.”

You knew that he would check in with you frequently to make certain you still wished to continue.

With your consent, his fingertips grazed the length of your arms. His warm touch sent pleasant shivers through you and you fought the urge to arch into him. He had a way of making you feel everything he wanted you to feel with just one touch. It was like magic, the control he had over your body and sometimes you wondered if his creative abilities branched into other realms as well.

His hands slid down your sides, massaging your warm skin and admiring your supple curves, the angles and indentations of your hips. Before he traveled lower, Willy wanted to devote some appreciation to the rest of your body first. His hands moved to your back, working underneath you to swiftly unclip your bra. He had a way of doing things so fast that you barely had time to register what he was doing before it was done. Perhaps it didn’t seem possible, but impossibility did not exist where Willy Wonka came from; if there was a way to do the impossible, he had already figured it out and told no one.

With your unclasped bra no longer pulled taut, he delicately pushed the straps off your shoulders and plucked the hindersome piece of fabric away from your chest. It dropped unceremoniously to the floor and his blue eyes glittered with mischief when he looked upon your exposed breasts.

You wanted to cover them, but he held your arms at your sides. True to the creative genius he was, he had to admire beauty where and when he saw it and you were a masterpiece. His tight smile had relaxed as he gazed down at you beneath him and he practically cooed with appreciation for your form.

“You’re very beautiful,” he whispered heatedly, like it was almost difficult for him to get the words out. He was overwhelmed with all his attention focused on the body before him.

You wanted to thank him for the compliment, but all that came out was a soft squeak.

He chuckled at your little sound and bent his head. He placed a firm kiss on your left breast and you sighed in pleasure at the gentle touch of his plush lips on your pillowy skin. His lips traced the curves of your breasts before encircling one of your nipples, suckling lightly as if it were a piece of candy.

You mewled and arched into his mouth, desiring more from him and as quickly as possible, but Willy liked to take his time with you. He never left you unsatisfied, but you could expect nothing to be fast paced.

His fingers wrapped around your hips to hold you in place as he moved to your other breast and did the same thing. His hot tongue teased your candy pieces to hardness and he hummed his appreciation, sending waves of pleasure down to your core.

You squirmed in his grasp and whimpered pathetically, “please, Willy,” you begged him, “I want you now.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have me, dear,” he reassured you, his thumbs rubbing placatingly against your hips, “when I’m ready for you to.”

His teasing remark made you huff in irritation until his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your cotton panties and paused you in your tracks.

You whined as his fingers barely breached the fabric barrier before he removed them. His hands moved to your inner thighs and spread your legs apart for him to nestle in between them.

All you could do was watch as he leaned closer and pressed a kiss to your navel, just below your belly button. His kisses traveled lower and lower down your pelvis to your pubic bone and finally to your core. You writhed in pleasure when his mouth found its way to where you wanted it, but your panties were still in the way and you groaned with frustration.

Heat emanated from your core due to your arousal and the crotch of your panties were damp with your wetness.

Your head dropped back against the pillow as he used the tip of his nose to brush lightly against your clit through your panties.

You were so pliant to his will and responsive to his touch that he almost felt powerful. If it had been anyone other than him, he would have, but all he felt in this moment was an overwhelming feeling of love. The fact that he could give you a comfortable experience of vulnerability and pleasure perhaps did enflame his ego a bit, but he loved you even more for it. To see you enjoying yourself because of him was almost too much for him to handle and he could feel his cock swell to attention.

He placed a couple of open-mouthed kisses to the crotch of your panties before he dragged them down your legs. He would have liked to tease you more, but he was already beginning to lose patience and he didn’t want to rush through too quickly.

With your panties removed, he could admire your glistening folds and the sweet juices that had dribbled out of you. His mouth watered as he delved in for a taste, his tongue tentatively flickering against your opening.

You let out a cry and bucked your hips, desperate for him to fill you. You needed friction and fullness to achieve release and Willy knew you couldn’t get either of those things without his compliance. He smirked at that and lowered his head between your thighs.

Your hot core pulsed as more of your honey leaked onto his tongue. He moaned in satisfaction, savoring the taste of your sweetness and the delicious sounds you were making for him. He had never tasted anything this sweet except for his chocolate and if he could have only one of those two things right now he would have picked you without a second thought.

It was almost too much for him to pull his mouth away, but he knew that he must if he were to indulge in the ultimate act of pleasure with you. You both wanted that more than you wanted air to breathe. A greater craving than candy, your existing love and soul connection a stronger aphrodisiac than chocolate.

With a final flick of his tongue against your clit, he dragged his mouth off you. You whimpered at the loss, but in the back of your lust-flavored cotton candy mind you knew that your shared night of pleasure was just beginning.

He got off the bed again and opened the nightstand drawer. He withdrew a small tinfoil packet and a small clear bottle of lubricant.

You were still sprawled out on the mattress, your hair a halo around your head. The darkened room made it difficult to see what he was doing, but your eyes had adjusted enough for you to see movement.

You felt eyes on you and before you glanced up from the object he was holding, his voice broke the silence, “are you comfortable continuing?”

Driven by lust and lover’s greed, you nodded your consent. Willy did not respond at first, waiting on your actual acknowledgement and proper agreement. Your voice was shaky as you replied to him, but you knew what you wanted and were certain in your response, “yes. I want this. I want you, Willy.”

The sincerity in your voice convinced him and he tore open the condom wrapper.

Excitement thrilled you and coursed through your veins, carried into your heart by blood. Your body was singing with sensation as you wanted nothing more than his solid body atop you, his hard length buried in your tight heat.

You watched him with barely-concealed enthusiasm – well, perhaps the only concealment was from the darkness in the bedroom – as he took off his underwear and rolled the condom on. He then squirted a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and coated his cock.

You could hear him jerking himself off and the obscenely slick sounds from the generous amount of lube. He had yet to give himself any physical stimulation up until this point and you were eager to repay the favor.

In the dark, your reached for him and he came to you, ready to meld together and fill you full of himself.

He positioned himself on top and guided your legs around his hips. He propped himself up with one forearm flat against the mattress so that he wouldn’t rest his entire body weight on you and the other guided his condom-covered tip to your entrance.

He gave your forehead a tender kiss as he pressed in. Your lips parted at your sharp intake of breath and your muscles tightened and seized around him. Willy kissed your face, calming you and keeping you still and relaxed until he bottomed out.

He nuzzled against your cheek and moved his free arm behind you to cradle your head.

You tilted your head back and captured his lips. The two of you kissed lazily for several moments as your bodies adjusted to one another. Your walls twitched around his cock, sending jolts of electricity down to his toes, into the pit of his stomach and behind his eyes. Everything felt fuzzy and seemed out of focus except for you.

The one thing that was clear to him was his love for you and the appreciation he had for you being a part of his life. If he could not trust a single soul with his legacy, he knew that he could trust you with himself and that was more than enough.

For once, nothing made you question Willy Wonka; his intentions were clear.

Your fears were just that: fear. It was irrational and based on nothing of consequence. However, the very fact that you were afraid let you and he both know how much you cared.

You would never take Willy, and he would never take you, for granted.

He would reassure you that though he was not used to sharing his world with another, that you were his world now and you would share in every aspect with him and reap the rewards of a unique and whimsical life with perhaps the greatest chocolatier who ever lived.

Take out all the fantasy and spectacle and you were left with only love and imagination.

All these people thought the most fantastical thing about Willy Wonka were his creations, but what took your breath away, and had since the beginning, was the man behind those creations.

You had fallen in love with him as much as you had with his brain and his intellect, his body, his soul. You wanted to dip your fingers into him like if he were made of melted chocolate. You would lick the essence of his existence off your fingertips to taste his candy-coated soul and sugared thoughts. There were not many candies or chocolates of the Wonka brand that you hadn’t tried, but none were sweeter than the man himself.

If he existed only in your mind, then your mind was alive with the thought of him.

All too soon, your thoughts abandoned you as you felt him begin to move.

He slowly pulled out, angled his hips and pushed back in.

The sudden movement jarred your body and you clung to him tighter.

As he began to set a pace, you rolled your hips down onto him each time that he pushed in. This seemed to please him, witnessing you thrusting with him, your bodies moving in unison toward a shared release and reciprocation of pleasure.

He grunted softly in your ear with the effort of thrusting into you. His soft curls tickled your cheek and you bit back a giggle. A particularly rough thrust ripped the sound from your throat and you laughed aloud.

His brows furrowed in amusement at your laughter, but he grinned with you nonetheless.

His thrusts became harsher, deepening as you adjusted and conformed to the rhythm and pace he set that was creating a delicious friction between your legs. You moaned shamelessly into his ear and he thrusted harder, encouraged by the sinful sounds you were making.

Willy kissed you, his lips feverishly moved against yours as he held you in his embrace and your skin blazed with red hot fervor. A thin sheen of sweat clung to your bodies and you could feel the heat rolled off him in waves. Sweat beaded on his upper lip, but it didn’t bother you as you kissed him harder, demanding more intensity out of your shared intimacy. Your core pulsed, muscles gripping and clenching tightly around his cock.

Your moans began to take on a higher pitch the closer you got to your release. Willy could tell that you were close now and he was eager to send you over the edge. Sex was, at least for him, about mutual enjoyment and gratification, not domination, exploitation or manipulation. It was about individuals who loved each other enough to put aside their individuality and become one, just for a moment of bliss.

His forehead pressed against yours as he thrusted into you harder than before, his pace becoming erratic the closer he came to his own release.

As he panted, you felt his breath fan across your face and he smelled of chocolate.

You balanced on the edge of oblivion as your feverish coupling would soon send you into orgasm.

After a few more hard thrusts, Willy slipped a hand between your legs and gently rubbed your clit. Your release seized you, your body shaking violently with hurricane force winds of equal parts pleasure and zest. It was as if the air had been knocked out of you and you were falling down into his waiting arms. Ecstasy radiated from your core, carried in waves throughout your body.

You were alone with your pleasure, waiting on your lover to join you in the afterglow.

You cried out his name as he thrusted into you through your orgasm. He lasted several moments after you came before he released, filling the condom with several hot bursts of his seed.

He had just enough strength left in his body to pull out and collapse beside you. His harsh panting soon turned to gentle sighs as his heartrate decreased and his body cooled. His strawberry blonde curls were plastered to his forehead with sweat and were sticking out at wild angles except for the top which was always a bit flattened from the way he wore his hat.

You reached out and petted his frizzy hair, your fingers delicately massaging his scalp. He let out a quiet little moan and you smiled at him.

With a deep inhale, he sat up and peeled the sticky condom off his softening prick. He tied it up and tossed it in the wastebin, then snatched his underwear off the ground. He picked yours up as well and handed them to you for you to slip on.

You got off the bed and put your panties back on, then crossed the room to the bathroom. A few moments later, when you returned after you had cleaned yourself up, you found him lying in bed waiting for you.

He smiled at you as you approached and extended an arm out to let you curl into his side as you got back on the bed with him. He already had a blanket laid out to pull across your nude bodies so that you could cuddle in modesty and without getting a chill.

He looked down to watch you settle in and you met his gaze for a moment, appreciating his features. His gorgeous blue eyes were like pools of galaxy speckled with stars. His aquiline nose, which most people thought was too big for his face, looked proportionate in your opinion and beautiful just the same. He had the softest features of any man you had ever seen, slightly chubby cheeks, a round face and curved jawline. He was exquisite in every sense of the word and just looking at him made you fall more deeply in love.

As attractive as he was to you, his personality spoke to yours in a language only the two of you spoke fluently.

His appreciation for literature and culture was unique and inspiring and, because it tied in with your own, you learned a lot from each other. His quick wit and casual snide remarks that often passed over other people’s heads made you laugh as though you were enjoying your own little joke with each other.

During your private appreciation for this man, you concluded that you had no reason to ever think he might be pulling away from you.

In surreal Willy Wonka fashion, he seemed to read your thoughts as he finally spoke, “I’d like to see you in the Inventing Room with me tomorrow. I want you to be as involved with the holiday busy season as I am.”

He addressed your insecurities by offering a solution to the problem and your heart felt a bit lighter. He wanted you to be involved in his work so that you didn’t feel so isolated or lonely. He had promised to be more attentive and he intended to do just that, but you could offer him aid and visit him while he worked. True love was buoyed by compromise; you’d see to it that you did your part to keep your relationship strong.

“Forgive me for not being as attentive as I should be,” he continued, “I’ve been so busy, not to excuse myself.”

“I understand,” you replied.

He seemed surprised for a moment, as if he half-expected you to still be upset, “and it isn’t entirely your fault. I should come around more if I’m missing you. We’ll find a solution. We have time.” Willy put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close so he could kiss your head, “time is a precious thing, my dear. Never waste it.”

Between his words, you heard what he was not saying.

And while he had a point, what you did have was now.

You could agree just to exist for a moment, sharing in the silence of the universe and listening to nothing but your dreams and the sounds of your hearts.

You would fall into each other the same way that you fell in love: accidentally and achingly slow.

One day you would both look up and see how far you had come, but for now, you still had a way to go.

You knew his heart belonged to yours and that was enough to keep trying. Once the busy season calmed down and you had more time to focus on the two of you, you would ease into it like lovers were meant to, but right now you had an obligation to yourselves not to let the fear of failure drive you apart.

It might seem fatalistic to ruin a relationship before it had run its course, but you’d seen it happen and the last thing you wanted was for that to be yours.

You knew deep down that it wouldn’t happen.

Your love was as strong as your imaginations were wild and no mind would ever dare dream the two of you apart.

#willy Wonka #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #willy wonka 1971 #wilder!wonka #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka imagine #willy wonka and the chocolate factory imagine #gene wilder #biblio :: 📖

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