#funnyvalentinexreader

[mitch-the-simp]

President’s Side Piece is a Primadonna (Pt. 1)

To paint a scene; 1890, America. The industrial revolution was at its peak and the U.S. was a prominent country in its export economy, soon becoming a superpower in the world’s economy. At the top of this empire of democracy was President Funny Valentine, the 23rd President of the United States. A man respected from sea to shining sea for his patriotism and looks. He had it all: the love of his country, a beautiful wife, but specially the prettiest girl wrapped around his pinky finger.

(Y/n) (L/n) wasn’t just any girl, her beauty was beyond anything America had seen. Born to a rich and highly influential Texan family that specialized in being livestock auctioneers. The third child and only daughter of 6 children. Her beauty was unparalleled, she’d rejected the hand of many and has surrounded herself with only the best of the country. Amongst which was the President himself. And of course, her family urged her to become very close to him. Nonetheless, she did as advised.

“Mr. President...” (Y/n) whined. She held up a bitten piece of bread that upon inspection was a specific type of Mexican bread named Concha. Her face had obvious hints of dislike for the already bitten bread which seemed to be the reason for her complaint.

“What’s wrong my Bluebonnet?” Valentine asked as he walked up to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and massaging them gently.

“This Concha doesn’t taste the same like the ones Sarita makes at home. I refuse to eat it like this.” She whined again, her thick but sweet-sounding country accent adding sensuality to her dress that already pushed up her reddish, soft-looking bust.

“Oh Bluebonnet… It probably doesn’t taste bad, I’m sure it’s just a slight difference my dear.” He mumbled, kissing her cheek.

“No Funny, I’m not eating this. It doesn’t taste like the original.” She scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her face away from him in a tantrum.

He squeezed her cheeks between his four fingers and his thumb, looking at her with a stern but sexy gaze, “What did I say about getting too bratty about little things with me?”

He held the wrist of the hand that you held up the bread with while still having a grip of your face. He forced you to make eye contact with him and as you did, he bit a piece of the bread, chewed and swallowed the piece.

“This tastes splendid, my little Bluebonnet. I’ll say it again: I’m sure it doesn’t taste bad to you; but rather unfamiliar.” He mumbled seductively, letting go of her face. Still holding your arm, he moved the it towards your moth so you would bite the bread. “Eat it.” He commanded. She did as told, savoring the sweetness of the bread. Yeah, it wasn’t an authentic, Mexican Concha, but it still tasted good…

“Tell me, would you eat it if I fed it to you?” He mumbled, the words flowing out of his mouth like honey.

“Yes, Mr. President~.” She cooed scooting closer to him.

“Good girl.~” He cooed back.

It wasn’t uncommon of him to put her in her place when she acted up, but it also wasn’t uncommon for him to let her get away with things like begging him for dresses, or a cute little porcelain doll to put in her room. He’d spoil her rotten when it came for small little material things. But when it came to her whining about things not going her way…

They either resulted in him simply scolding her (like he’d just did), or punishing her accordingly. Either way, he adored. He simply couldn’t get enough of her!

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Requests are open! :DD