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gurugirl · 8 months

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Can We Start Over? | Ch. 2 The Job Offer

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers

A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).

Chapter 2. Summary: You can't stop thinking about what happened the night you met Harry and how much you hate him. But then you get some really good news about a new job. Except there's a catch.

Word Count: 9k

Warning: 18+ only, angst, alcohol consumption

Can We Start Over? masterlist

“Oh my god, Y/n. What a fucking dick. But your response was gold! I wish you’d stayed to see what happened. Holy shit!” Brandy laughed as she clinked her glass with yours, “That was some gangster shit right there!”

You both laughed at your recount of what had happened with Harry. You met your best friend Brandy for Sunday brunch at your usual spot. You had called her on Saturday after your exit paperwork was taken care of with Mr. Spector and said you had some very interesting news to tell her but that you wanted to share it in person. This wasn’t over-the-phone kind of gossip. It was a with-a-martini-in-hand face-to-face kind of gossip.

“And besides… the most important thing is at least you got off. Typical fuck-boy, good in bed but an absolute slut.”

You nodded, “Exactly. And it doesn’t bother me too much, really. Not now. Plus Mr. Spector gave me a really nice parting bonus. And I’m sure I’ll be matched with someone soon for another gig but even if it takes a few months, I won’t have to dig into savings thanks to him.”

And it was true. Mr. Spector presented you with the check and a hug and well wishes and you were nearly in tears by the time you left his estate. The movers were there the whole time, taking furniture out of his lovely home. A home you’d gotten to become very familiar with over the years. You held events and small parties there, you helped him redecorate the master suite and all the bathrooms (well you organized it all and helped the decorators and builders with the design and material selection). You even had your own room there. Not that you often needed to stay but that was part of your job description as a personal assistant. Sometimes you needed to stay. But usually, you’d go home at night.

The service that you worked for assured you there were a few clients in need of a personal assistant and if it was a good match, they’d refer you. That was important. To have the right match. You were lucky you were single and without kids. That meant you were more flexible. But that didn’t guarantee a good match.

You were sure you’d be enjoying a couple of weeks off work off to do nothing. It sounded fantastic.

. . .

You hadn’t expected to get an offer so soon. When Monica emailed you on Monday afternoon with the file and details of your new assignment (if you accepted) you perused the document with your mouth agape. You’d been matched with someone with what was known as stealth wealth (most were), who traveled frequently. You’d need to keep a bedroom in their home (not out of the norm) and travel with them from country to country. You would negotiate holidays and time off once meeting in person but the salary offered was the first thing you saw when you looked at the contract. There was no pressure to sign but how could you say no to an offer that would erase your college debt and allow you to buy a home in a year? You couldn’t let this one slip away.

You emailed Monica back right away that you’d accept it and like to move forward. The next step would be to meet in person. Then, you’d find out more about who you’d be working for. The service was very discreet. The client was always given absolute anonymity until it was time for the first meeting.

You stared at your computer screen as if to will Monica to respond faster. Sipping your coffee you tapped your foot against the floor in anticipation. You kind of would have enjoyed some time off. A week or two of downtime. Sleeping in. Catching up on all the movies and shows you hadn’t had time to watch on Netflix. Order in pizza and Chinese, and day drink in your pajamas. But this opportunity wouldn’t be on the table for much longer. Another person would snatch this up in a heartbeat. That dollar sign alone would see to it.

When Monica finally responded you placed your mug of coffee down, held your breath, and clicked the email.

You’ll be meeting with the client tomorrow at 8:00 am at an address that will be sent to you via our private messaging app at 5:00 am. He requests you bring a physical copy of your resume and if you both agree to terms tomorrow he’ll bump up your salary 10% automatically. Confirm this is okay and I’ll set up the rest. Monica

You squealed as you quickly typed back a resounding Yes! Book it! Thank you!

You stood up and paced. Okay. So you learned the client was a he. Well, you’d blow him away. You’d make him want to hire you on the spot with that lovely little 10% bump.

You already knew the outfit. Thanks to working for Mr. Spector, you’d been allotted a stipend for very nice, and well-tailored outfits for when you needed to look chic and professional. Great for a first meeting, your double-breasted jacquard wool coat in neutral colors with a pop of blue, and your blue silk button-up tucked into your jacquard wool skirt, matching the coat. Stylish, flattering, and appropriate for meetings with a wealthy man who would undoubtedly be dressed very nicely as well.

It was perfect. You couldn’t believe how lucky you’d gotten. A new assignment so quickly and one that paid so well? It felt like fate.

. . .

Harry had his house manager, Lucio, contact a highly recommended service to find a personal assistant for himself. He hated to find someone new because that was just one more person who knew his business. And he preferred having very few people in his circle. But Thasi was dumb. He couldn’t bear to have her working for him another minute. She had trouble with very basic tasks, like adding events to his calendar. She’d even missed two flights that he had booked for her and the last flight she missed he only realized it when she came into his study with a folder asking him about an account he needed to close out.

He stood from his desk and looked at the girl in astonishment, “Thasi. Why are you not 30,000 feet in the air right now? Why are you here standing in my house asking me this question? You are meant to be headed to New York City.” His voice was firm. Irritated.

The girl dropped her mouth open and blinked her eyes until it had finally dawned on her that she had forgotten to make her flight to meet with an art dealer on Harry’s behalf.

“I take it by the look on your face that you now realize your irreversible blunder. You’re fired. I’ll have your things sent back to your home by tomorrow afternoon.”

The poor girl couldn’t even argue with him. She knew she’d blown it. That was her second missed flight, of equal importance. And Harry felt he’d been quite generous and patient with her by giving her another chance. But he shouldn’t have.

So when he learned about Personal Premier Services from a few of his colleagues he decided to look for a PA that way rather than on his own like he had with Thasi. Harry’d had good luck finding staff for everything he needed for the last five years without help. The personal assistant was something rather new to him as he usually did most of his own errands by himself or had Lucio do them. But things were changing in his business and he needed an assistant quite desperately.

Harry woke before the sun rose and took his morning jog. He loved getting his day started earlier than most people. It meant he had time to do things like, exercise, catch up on world news, meditate, shower, and eat breakfast all before most other people would even be out of their beds. He also wished he could just stay awake forever. Wished he didn’t need sleep. There were so many things he could accomplish during the hours he wasted sleeping. But, being that he was only a mere human, his body required sleep.

“Sir? Y/n Y/l/n has just arrived. I have her waiting in the sitting room. Would you like me to bring her up?”

Harry cocked his head and looked to Lucio as he sat his pen down, “What did you say her name was again?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

Why did that name somehow feel so familiar?

“No. That’s okay, Lucio.” He stood from his chair, “I’ll go and greet her myself. Thank you.”

Harry’s immediate instincts told him that name was familiar. But why? And oddly, he first let his mind wander to it being you. But it couldn’t be. You were at the ball and he was certain you were wealthy just like him based on your outfit and your demeanor. He’d only gotten your first name that night, not your last name. And while Y/n was your name, the person looking for a job waiting for him downstairs certainly wouldn’t be the same woman who had put a used condom on his hotel door’s handle only to have his now ex-friend-whatever-she-was find it.

Yes. The ex-friend. Aster. He knew he should have stopped their little arrangement before she got too attached. It was never meant to be anything serious. From the start, he told her he was seeing other people but she never wanted to hear about anyone else he might have been sleeping with. And when he realized she started getting attached he should have recognized it was time to end it. But he didn’t.

Harry clenched his jaw and swallowed.

The knocking on his door had come a lot faster than he’d hoped. Aster wasn’t even supposed to be there. Her flight had been canceled so she wasn’t going to make it to New York City. He told her he’d see her the following day when he flew back. But of course, she rebooked a later flight without him knowing. As a surprise. And the call from Aster telling him she was on her way had shocked him and really put a damper on the night he thought he’d be enjoying with you. He just hoped she hadn’t passed you on her way to the door.

As soon as he opened it up, Aster slapped him across the face and held up a napkin with a blush-colored lip stain on it and a scribbled note. But what really had his attention was a droopy condom on his doorknob. Fresh with his come.

“What the fuck, Harry? What the fuck?!”

“Aster, I don’t… what is this?” He knew goddamn well what it was. It was you. “I think someone is just playing a joke on me. This isn’t mine…”

“The note, Harry? Whoever it is knows your fucking name.” Aster pushed passed him to make her way into the room.

Harry looked down the hallway and then cringed as he pulled the condom from the knob with the discarded tissue he picked up off the floor.

“Babe, this was just a cruel joke from someone–“

“Don’t you dare call me babe! And I don’t believe you. Who is going to play this kind of joke on you and then write your name on a napkin from the event you were just at?” She tossed him the napkin, “Hmm? I bet I know who. Someone you just fucked and kicked out because you didn’t think I’d come.”

Harry looked down at the napkin. Sure enough, it said A Secret Garden in the City with Alfred Spector’s company logo printed on it, as well as the note you’d written – Thank you, Harry xx. Bitch. He dropped the napkin onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair.

He didn’t know what to say. And it wasn’t like he’d been all that serious about Aster to begin with. She was gorgeous and they’d known one another for a while but that was where his attraction ended. In all honesty, he didn’t like her that much. Perhaps this was for the better, as much of an asshole as that made him seem.

“Aster, look…” he sighed and sat down at the edge of the messy bed, “You and I weren’t exactly serious. It’s always just been casual. You know that,” he looked at her with her hands on her hips, red in the face, tears just breaking her lash line. “I’m sorry. You and I were never headed for marriage. It was just some fun for a bit.”

“Some fun? I flew out here to see you on a whim. Not because I thought you were just a bit of fun but because I actually did like you. But you know what? You’re right. I don’t think I could have ever pictured myself marrying someone like you. Selfish, pathetic, overly regimented. You’re doomed to die alone, Harry.”

She pressed her lips together and waited for a response but when it didn’t come she stomped toward the door, slamming it behind her on her way out.

Harry smoothed his expensive blazer out and brushed off the feeling he was getting as he walked through the hallway to the foyer and then peeked into the sitting area where his interviewee would be sitting and waiting for him.

He nearly jumped back when his eyes met yours. Both of your faces held the same expression. Complete shock lined with minor disgust.

“This must be a joke,” you stood up from the plush silk-lined chair you’d been sitting in and looked around the room as if someone were going to pop out and tell you that you were on that show, Candid Camera, and it was all for a good laugh.

But the only person in your sight was the man you had a one-night stand with. The cocky asshole who’d treated you like garbage and then kicked you out of his room when he got a call from someone.

“I think there must be a mistake… You’re… are you a personal assistant? I’m confused.” Harry mimicked your body language, pivoting himself to look around to see if he could find someone and demand answers.

“Yes. That’s what I do for a living. But clearly, I have no intention of working for anyone like you, so if you don’t mind…” you picked up your briefcase and began to walk toward Harry to move past him and see yourself out.

But just as you walked through the threshold of the sitting room to the foyer Harry spoke, “Y/n.”

You stopped and turned to look at him in question.

“Come. Let’s have a chat,” he turned and began walking toward the grand stairwell that led upstairs, turning back to make sure you were following.

You blinked your eyes and scoffed as you looked down at your red-painted nails. Should you follow him? What would be the point? Just to hear him insult you and turn you away at the end anyway?

“You are looking for a job, are you not?” Harry spoke from the bottom of the stairwell, his hand on the lacquered wooden banister.

“I am. But… I don’t think this would work out.” You gestured at him.

“You and I are professionals and you come highly regarded. I’m in great need of an assistant. At the very least we can have a discussion and see where it takes us. I don’t like my time wasted and I’m sure you don’t either. You came all the way here. Let’s at least talk.”

Harry thought you looked cute and he could see the gears turning in your head. He could deal with the one night he’d had with you and the very improper thing you’d done which outed him to Aster if you were good at what you did.

“Yeah, but we…” you chose your words carefully, “Friday night? I honestly don’t think–“

“I can look past that if you can. This is strictly professional. I’ve no interest in anything more.”

What were you to do? He hadn’t just been a one-night stand. He was an asshole. Could he really pretend that none of that had happened? Could you?

But. There was the matter of the salary he was offering. An enticing and frankly irresistible number that could have you swallowing your pride.

“Fine. But I can assure you I will not tolerate being treated like…” you paused to carefully choose your words again. You were certain his house had staff listening in.

Before you could find the word you were seeking, Harry spoke, “Like an assistant who is paid to do her job flawlessly?” He began to take the steps upward and you followed.

You frowned at his description. As if you wouldn’t do your job flawlessly. You weren’t sure what he was implying but you had a bad feeling about this.

When you followed him into a large study with dark woods and big windows with heavy drapes, a huge walnut desk with an expensive chair and bookshelves lining one of the walls he closed, and locked, you noted, the door behind himself, “Sit.”

You looked at the plushy green velvet chairs with tufted cushions and ornate carvings in the arms and legs and placed your bag down on the chair next to the one you sat in. He sat in his own chair at his desk and looked at you, a harsh expression on his face. He was far more intimidating in this setting.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he spoke clearly as he kept his eyes pinned to yours, “What you did when you left that night is unforgivable in a personal setting. And because of that, you and I will never be friends. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work well together as boss and employee. I expect complete discretion and a professional attitude from anyone that works for me. Is that a problem for you?”

You felt your ears growing hot as your anger slowly rose, “I am the most professional and discreet personal assistant you’ll ever find. Anyone else will disappoint you and I would also expect that any employer would treat me professionally and fairly. What you did to me that night was insulting and something I will never forget nor forgive. So don’t worry, I’d never want to be a friend to anyone like you.”

Harry clenched his jaw at your response and nodded, “Fair enough. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk job details and salary.” Harry looked down at his folder and opened it up.

“Salary? That part was already determined. Plus 10% on top if we come to an agreement on terms of employment today.” You reminded him.

Harry laughed and looked up at you with his head tilted to the side as if he were curious about you, “That was before I knew who I was offering such a generous salary to.” He looked down at the paper in front of him, marking something out and scribbling over it. He held the sheet of paper out to you.

You squinted at him and leaned forward to take the paper and your eyes widened at the new number he’d written in on the contract. You laughed and crumpled the paper as you stood from your chair, dropping it onto the floor and lifting your bag, “Goodbye, Mr. Styles.”

Turning and walking over the grand Persian rug that took up most of the floor you reached for the handle and when you pulled realized the door was locked. You placed your fingers over the keyhole and turned back to the smug fucker. He sat comfortably in his chair with his brows raised at you, unimpressed.

“Unlock the fucking door. This conversation is over.” You were fuming.

“And why’s that? I feel like that’s just a starting place. A negotiation if you will. Tell me why you deserve more and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“This isn’t a game. You had a perfectly fine offer that I was willing to negotiate off of but now you’re just insulting me, once again might add. I’d never work for anyone for that wage. Much less a self-absorbed man who treats women like rubbish.”

Harry folded his lips into his mouth as he tampered his grin. His cocky attitude was infuriating, “Oh please. Save the dramatics. Sit.”

You scoffed and shook your head, “No. You’re an overly egotistical moron with nothing to back it up. I will not stand for being insulted this way.”

Harry pushed himself out of his chair and began to walk toward you, “Nothing to back it up? Wrong,” he grinned as he looked around his extravagantly decorated room and back toward you, “This home is a great example of what I’ve got to show for my accomplishments. My bank accounts as well,” he slowly walked to your side and put his hand onto the heavy oak door you were standing in front of as he licked his lips and looked down at your outfit before looking directly into your eyes, “And I’m pretty sure I had you crying my name over and over again when I made you come. I’d say that’s a great reason for my inflated ego. You certainly thought I was great when I had my dick inside of you.”

You swallowed and then scowled at his nerve to bring up such a thing, “Well, like you said, I’m a bit dramatic. I was overplaying it that night because I didn’t want you to feel bad. Now open the fucking door.”

Harry’s smirk didn’t fall as he leaned in closer, “Liar. You loved it,” then he backed away, giving you enough space to breathe, “Not that you’ll ever have a chance to experience it again.”

“Like I’d want that little thing anywhere near me. Now, are you gonna open the door or do I need to call 911 for attempted kidnapping?” You dug into your bag and pulled your cell phone out.

Harry laughed and you watched in dismay as his dimples appeared. He looked too handsome to be such an asshole. He put his hands up in surrender, “Okay. Fine. We’ll go back to negotiating off the original salary plus 10%. Okay?”

You sighed. You hated that you were even considering it. The salary he was offering was too good, though. You could handle him if he kept personal matters out of your working relationship. The worst-case scenario would be that you quit and told the service about him and how he treated you (of course you’d gather evidence so no one else had to put up with his shit) and then find another job working for someone else.

You rolled your eyes and moved past him to go back to your seat.

Harry rounded the desk and sat down, putting his elbows on the desk once again, just like he’d done when you both first sat down to negotiate terms, “There we go. Money talks doesn’t it?”

Unfortunately, he was right. Money does talk.

You rolled your eyes again and looked at the back corner of his office to relieve yourself from his intense gaze.

“Less attitude, Y/n. Let’s begin, shall we?”

You suffered through an hour of going back and forth on expectations with Harry but at the end realized it wasn’t that bad. Once you both got out your frustrations at the beginning it seemed to flow smoothly after.

You even talked him into paying you 15% more, rather than just the 10%. Which you felt was a big win. Harry didn’t seem that phased by it.

He led you to what would be your room, which had your jaw dropping to the floor. It was… gorgeous. Like the rest of the house, it was grand and old but well-kept. The wide plank dark floors were covered with a light cream wool rug with small yellow, green, and blue flowers woven into the fabric. Long soft, lacy drapes hung from the ceiling and brushed against the floor over the tall windows that overlooked the massive back garden full of trees and flowers and fountains. The king-sized four-poster bed had a pale yellow, silk canopy with tiny blue birds sewn into the material. The bedspread was white silk with the same yellow and blue birds sewn in. Ornate, heavy wooden side tables, a dresser with a big vanity and silk-covered cushion sat across from the bed. An antique chandelier hung in the center of the room, high above the bed. Flowers and potted plants with green leaves rounded out the space. There were two closed doors. One led to a small closet (not a surprise it was so small for the period of the house), and the other to a fully updated, spa bathroom which… you really had to pause for a bit as you took it all in.

Harry handed you keys to the house and a fob key that would allow you in the gates that surrounded the home and told you to arrange to have your things moved in by the following day (on his tab) and that you would start work at 8am sharp.

You called Brandy the moment you drove out of the gates to tell her what had just happened.

“It’s him. It’s the asshole one-night stand. I just accepted the offer to be his assistant.”

“I’m coming over with a bottle of wine. I need details in person.”

“Brandy, I’ve got to make arrangements and get everything ready, I don’t know…” you hemmed as you drove down the road with your heart beating fast in your chest. You couldn’t believe you’d just accepted to work with Harry Styles.

“Don’t make stupid excuses with me. You can do all that with a glass of wine in your hand.”

. . .

“I see why you took the job. Damn. I’m jealous,” Brandy spoke as she stood in your bedroom doorway while you packed up things you’d need right away. Harry explained that you’d be staying at his house more often during the week than your own apartment. He ran a tight schedule and driving an hour to his house every morning didn’t sound appealing and he didn’t like to be kept waiting.

“Yeah. I was going to say no. I really was but… how can I turn down that offer? I’ve never made so much in my life and honestly? Probably never will again. I figure it’ll be like a trial run. We’ll see if he can be professional.”

You called around and found movers and arranged for them to have everything delivered to Harry’s address the following afternoon. It was still early in the day so you scheduled to have a set of your spare keys delivered by a courier by 5 pm so they could have access to your apartment the following day as you’d be gone.

You were busy the whole time Brandy was there but you were glad she was with you. You marked items you needed to have delivered and printed out a sheet of paper for a checklist for the movers.

But by the time your keys were picked up by the courier and you were halfway through the bottle of wine, you’d finally had time to sit and relax.

“You two are totally gonna fuck again,” Brandy grinned as she looked at the TV.

You scoffed and smacked her arm, “We are not. I’d never go near him again. Not after that night. I actually, fully despise him.”

“Yeah… sure. I mean… I know he was an asshole but also the way you spoke about how good he was in bed? How do you turn that down? You two are gonna practically be living together and traveling together. I don’t know… I looked him up. He’s hot, Y/n. An asshole but… we all have needs.”

Shaking your head you sipped your wine and ignored her. The thought had very very briefly crossed your mind but it was quickly pushed away because the reminder of how he treated you Friday night couldn’t be ignored. You’d never ever forget the way he made you feel so little and so disgusting.

“He literally cheated on someone while he was with me. He had a girlfriend. He fucked me as she was on her way over. Like…” you flailed your arms dramatically, “how could I possibly sleep with someone that is a cheater? I mean willingly? Now that I know?” You shook your head.

Still, Brandy didn’t seem deterred in her assumption, “Yeah… but we don’t really actually know who called him. And if it was someone he was seeing? I mean… come on. It’s not as if they were married. We can gather that much. Yeah, he’s shit for what he did but like… I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s not like he cheated on his wife or something.”

Brandy had always looked at things through rose-tinted glasses which was annoying. Where you were more practical and stubborn. There was no way you’d end up in his bed ever again. You didn’t know the excuse for why he kicked you out after he spoke on the phone and called someone babe. But that was beside the point. The more important factor was the way he treated you and that was simply unforgivable.

. . .

You were running late. You couldn’t believe it. Your alarm had gone off on time. You showered, ran through your quick morning routine, double-checked that all your things would be delivered to the correct address, and then you were on the road by 6:45 am. You allotted an extra 15 minutes in case of extra bad traffic.

But traffic is unpredictable.

“Hello?” Harry spoke into the receiver. You had your phone on speaker.

“Harry? Mr. Styles!” You corrected yourself, “Um… I’m stuck on the highway and it’s a bit backed up. I’m just giving you a heads up that I’ll be like…” You sighed and looked at the clock trying to make some kind of conservative estimate, “twenty minutes late?”

You heard him grunt in response and then sigh, “Fine. Please come up to my office the minute you walk in.” And then he hung up. That was it.

And of course, you half expected such a response. He gave you little indication of his opinion on you being late. You just hoped he didn’t hold it against you on your first day. It had genuinely been out of your hands. But then again, you being at the house with him on subsequent mornings would mean that being late in this way wouldn’t happen ever again.

When you parked at the front of the house you finagled your suitcase out of the backseat and lugged it up the front steps just as the door opened, “Good morning, Miss. Can I bring this to your room for you?” An older man stood with a smile as he scooped your suitcase away from you.

“Oh. Uh… Okay. Are you sure?” You followed him inside.

“Absolutely. Mr. Styles is expecting you right away.”

You swallowed and watched the man walk away as you took a breath. Your first day working for Harry Styles. Possibly also your last, depending on how everything went.

You climbed the stairs toward his study and knocked twice before pushing the door open gently.

“Come and sit.” He spoke right away. He didn’t even glance your way as he continued typing at his computer when he spoke.

You sat in the same chair you had the day previous and waited for him to finish whatever he was doing.

He cleared his throat and squinted at his computer screen, “I’m an art dealer as I mentioned yesterday. But… it’s more complicated than that sometimes. I deal in art and cultural artifacts that can sometimes be a bit…” he looked at you, “morally grey in the way they are handled. It’s rare but I do occasionally have opportunities and come across certain pieces when a collector is willing to pay an exorbitant finder’s fee for the item.”

“Morally grey. Which means illegal.” You corrected, keeping your eyes on him.

He shook his head, “No. Nothing I do is illegal. Some take issue with some of the items I procure and where they come from, but ultimately, everything I do is technically legal.”

You nodded. You didn’t know what he meant exactly. But you assumed you’d be finding out soon enough.

After Harry explained in detail your schedule from day to day, he had Lucio give you a quick tour of the parts of the house you didn’t see the day before. He even had a binder with your tentative weekly schedule, important numbers to have on hand, addresses, passcodes, a new laptop, and passwords to his login details for various online accounts. He also handed you a credit card, “You’ll make all your own arrangements as well as mine. The limit on this card will cover the cost of flights and accommodations. You and I will be traveling frequently, as I mentioned yesterday.”

Your morning was filled with short bursts of Harry giving you information and what to expect, but half of that consisted of you waiting while he spoke on the phone and typed out emails. You couldn’t imagine why an art dealer would be as busy as seemed to be. Clearly, he was making lots of money so there was no doubt that he was busy with clients. But why?

You researched the ins and outs of being an art dealer the evening before, once Brandy’s Uber arrived to take her home. The typical art dealer did not make the kind of money you knew Harry had. Most also typically worked through auctions, galleries, and museums. Harry seemed to be his own entity doing deals as an individual. So you knew he wasn’t typical in his field.

At lunchtime you were hungry. You’d eaten something small before dashing to your car that morning but that had long been digested.

“Mr. Styles?” You looked at him from your spot in your chair as you closed your new laptop.

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“It’s lunchtime for me. I was hoping I could get something to eat if that’s okay? You should probably also eat. I can bring you something if you take your lunch up here.” You honestly couldn’t have cared less if he ate, but you were so used to making sure Alfred ate that asking Harry was automatic.

Harry’s brows scrunched together and he looked at his computer screen, “Hadn’t realized the time. Sure. Feel free to make something for yourself or you can ask Carl to. I’d like a vegan cassoulet.”

You stood and looked at him in confusion, “A vegan… what?”

“A vegan cassoulet,” He pronounced the word obnoxiously, “Carl will know what I want. Just tell him.”

You repeated the word to yourself. Cas ooo lay – cas ooo lay… You thought it sounded like one of those French dishes you’d never ventured to try.

In the kitchen, you found Carl right away and told him what Harry wanted.

“And what for you?” He began to pull out pans and got to work right away.

“I can manage. I think just a sandwich. Is everything here in the fridge?” You opened up the door and immediately were overwhelmed by the amount of groceries and items packaged inside. The fridge itself was state-of-the-art. Everything in the kitchen was.

Carl laughed and stepped up behind you, “You can find everything you might need in this kitchen yes. But perhaps we’ll leave the cooking to me today, just until you get used to where everything is. What kind of sandwich would you like?”

“Oh. Maybe that’s a good idea. You don’t mind?”

Shaking his head, Carl reached passed you to pull out some vegetables, “Not at all. This is what I do. How about a French bread panini? I can slice up some turkey and Swiss, load it with vegetables? Or maybe you’d prefer grilled chicken and pesto? Egg salad? Or are you vegetarian?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I’m definitely not vegetarian. And the first one sounds fine. Turkey and Swiss panini. Any veggies you put on it will be good. I just don’t like mayo.”

It was wild to be having lunch made for yourself by a professional private chef. And Harry’s cassoulet looked divine but after googling it you learned it’s usually made with various kinds of meat and that the duck confit is what makes the dish. But since his version was supposedly vegan, you couldn’t imagine it tasting anything like it was probably supposed to.

You also learned that Carl wasn’t just a personal chef. He also did all the grocery shopping.

After lunch, your belongings arrived. The movers placed everything in your new bedroom and handed you the key to your apartment before they left.

“This is it?” Harry asked standing in the doorway as he looked around at the boxes and bags you’d had delivered.

“Yeah. I don’t have much I need to keep here. You’ve got the room fully furnished. Just my clothes and essentials.” You shrugged as you opened up the box near the bed.

You could feel Harry’s eyes on you as you dug into the box and pulled out your potted Pothos plant. “What?” You looked at him as you placed the plant on the floor.

“Nothing. Um,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I think it’s a good stopping point today. We’ve got you set up on everything so you can unpack and relax. Normally our days will be longer but since it’s your first…” he put both arms down by his side and stopped fidgeting, “It’s good for today. And like I said earlier, you are free to watch TV in the main room downstairs or get anything from the kitchen you need at all. You don’t need to just stay in your room all night unless you choose to.”

You squinted at him, wondering if there was some kind of catch. He was rather pleasant, you had to admit. After you both got everything out of the way the day before things had been fine. Normal even. But you still had to keep your guard up around him. And all it took to remember who you were dealing with was what he’d done that night.

You decided against going downstairs to watch TV. Maybe you’d feel comfortable enough to do that later on but that night, it felt nice to take a long bath and listen to music and then curl up on your soft, silky bed with your laptop and Netflix.

Though you did get thirsty. And a bit hungry around 8. So you ventured down and hoped to not run into anyone.

Except of course, you ran into someone. When you entered the kitchen you saw Harry standing in front of the refrigerator looking in. Apparently, he had the same idea as you.

You cleared your throat and Harry turned to see you there, “Oh, hey.” He closed the fridge and faced you, “Need something?”

You nodded and stepped toward the pantry, “A little hungry and thirsty. Is it okay?”

“Of course it is. Help yourself to whatever. I was just about to make some pasta. Something simple. Would you like some?”

“Yeah. I can help you make it. What do we need?” You neared the fridge and opened it up, pulling out a glass pitcher of water.

Harry ran down the list of ingredients, which weren’t many, and you helped him slice garlic while he boiled the pasta and poured a can of San Marzano tomatoes into a small pot.

Everything came together quickly and you both sat at the island to eat the late-night meal together.

“Tomorrow we’ll book a trip to Vancouver. Someone has a few pieces I’d love to see in person.” Harry explained what to expect on the trip as you listened.

Then you got to talking about your parents and then college. Harry shared a little about himself but it wasn’t much. You didn’t expect that he would, but he did tell you about his mom and sister. You could tell how important they were to him just by the way he spoke. It made you feel warm toward him in a way knowing that he cared about people other than himself. Something you hadn’t been sure about as he seemed so cold.

When you were both done you tried to help him clean up, “You don’t have to do this, Y/n. I’ve got a housekeeper who will be here in the morning. Why don’t you go to bed?”

“Are you sure? Are you headed to bed?” You asked as you placed the forks into the sink.

He nodded, “Yeah. Time to call it a night.”

“Do you always go to bed this early,” you grinned as you refilled your water to bring it with you to your room.

He raised his brows, “Yeah. I get up at 4:30 in the morning to start my day so 9:30 or 10 is about when I go to bed.”

You cringed to yourself. 4:30 in the morning? That sounded like hell.

You both went your separate ways as you bid Harry good night.

. . .

You had a busy morning. You booked a trip for the following week to Vancouver for yourself and Harry. Two nights at The Four Seasons (2 separate rooms, connected), first-class airline tickets, a reservation for the 2nd evening at a nice restaurant for four people, an on-call driver for the whole visit, and set-up details with someone’s assistant named Lana for the meeting.

Harry wanted everything to be perfect so you had to work at extracting as much information from Lana as possible. At first, Lana sent you an itinerary that was rather simple and would have most people feeling good about the meeting. But Harry took one look at it and knew he needed more information. So you spent the majority of your morning speaking with the young woman and filling in details that appeared to be missing.

“This is excellent, Y/n,” Harry looked up at you as he stood from his desk. The itinerary and all the bookings were taken care of. “I’m leaving to take care of something personal. You can have the rest of the day off. Thank you.”

You felt pleased. So far, working for Harry hadn’t been all that bad. He was picky and hard to please but you could handle him. You just hoped that the momentum you two had would continue into the weeks ahead.

. . .

You met Brandy out at your favorite club. You wore a cute black dress and black booties and your black leather jacket.

“Oh damn, girl! You look good!” Brandy called to you when she spotted you through the crowd.

“I can’t stay all night! I have to work in the morning, so I stop at 2 drinks!” You spoke loudly so Brandy could hear.

Brandy’s side eye told you that your friend would be trying to get you to enjoy yourself for longer. But you couldn’t. The last thing you wanted to do was to be on Harry’s bad side and be hungover the next morning.

But, Brandy was convincing. Too convincing at times.

Four martinis in and you were painfully aware that you wouldn’t be driving back. You’d need an Uber and that kind of sucked because Harry would know when your car wasn’t there. But… since you’d already need to Uber and you were already out, you had a fifth martini and danced with Brandy and forgot all about your promise to yourself.

The night grew blurry and you couldn’t stop talking about your boss.

“He’s so put together too,” you slurred as you and Brandy leaned into one another, too drunk to dance or drink anymore.

“I know. You keep saying that. And how big his cock was,” Brandy laughed and you pushed her, causing her to stumble back dramatically so you reached out to steady her but wound up falling with her to the floor in a fit of laughter.

Yeah, you’d gotten sloppy drunk.

“I need to go,” you pushed yourself up to stand as you reached for your cell phone. You could hardly see straight, and pulling up the Uber app was simply not going to work. Instead, you called the second to last person you’d texted, Harry. You really hadn’t put much thought into it.

He answered the line and you pushed your way toward the front of the club to go outside, dragging Brandy with you, “Harry!” You howled loudly.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at Club Yega. Can you pretty please come pick me up? I’m so drunk.” Your voice was scratchy and your words were watery.

Once you got outside you repeated your question, unable to hear what Harry had responded to you.

“Okay. Just wait for me outside. Is there anyone with you?” He sounded concerned.

“Brandy is here and the security guy standing by the door,” you said matter-of-factly before hiccupping.

Harry told you he’d be there soon and Brandy wobbled into your side as she used one eyeball to call an Uber for herself.

You were unable to recall how long it took for Harry to arrive, or when Brandy had gotten into her Uber and left but when you saw him, he was standing over you with his hand out, “Up you get,” he grasped your hand and helped you stand up. You’d been sitting on the sidewalk.

“Should be more responsible,” Harry chided you as he helped you to his running car, “No one’s watching over you. Where’s this friend you had with you?”

“She was here I promise but her Uber came to get her,” you stumbled into his car and plopped down into the seat with an umph!

Harry looked back at the front door security person and nodded to him as he rounded the car and got inside.

“Harry, I’m sorry. I was going to only have 2 drinks. Swear.”

“It happens. But you should have called me sooner. Don’t like that you were sitting out there alone like that. It’s late. And we have an early day tomorrow.”

You turned to look at him as he pulled into the street and reached a hand up to the curl that covered the top of his ear, “You’re so pretty. Which is weird because you’re such a fucking dick.”

Harry shook his head and laughed to himself as he kept his eyes on the road.

“I’m serious. You’re too pretty for it to be real. Your voice even.” You croaked.

Harry glanced at you quickly, “Oh yeah?” His grin widened. He knew the alcohol was talking but he certainly didn’t mind hearing your thoughts about him while you were inebriated.

“Yeah,” you lowered your finger to his shoulder and then poked at his bicep before dropping your hand back into your lap, “Nice everything. Except you’re not actually nice are you?” You let out a garbled laugh and closed your eyes for a moment.

“Hey… Come on. You’re drunk. Just close your eyes and we’ll be home soon.”

You shook your head and looked back at him, “Bossy too. But it sucks because it was so good that night. God I still think about it… and then I remember how you kicked me out like I was filthy. That was mean. Hurt my feelings.”

Harry sighed and stayed quiet. He was not going to engage in this kind of conversation with you while you were drunk. He was sure you wouldn’t remember any of it anyway.

But you didn’t stop there, “I wish I could stop thinking about it, though. S’not fair.”

Harry kept his eyes on the road and listened.

“The way you sounded when you were coming. I keep hearing it,” you squeezed your thighs together and looked out the window with a soft sigh. “Never had it like that before. But fuck you.”

Harry swallowed and blinked his eyes. He was a little surprised by your drunk confession. He liked that you thought fondly of some aspects of that night. Clearly you had enjoyed the sex. But to hear you saying how your feelings were hurt and that you were still angry about it all?

He looked over at you and down to your thigh where your dress had ridden up quickly before looking back at the road. He still refused to engage in this. You were drunk. Very much so.

“And your hands, Harry…” you reached over to brush your fingers over the back of his hand that was gripped on the steering wheel, “Oh god…” you breathed your words, “Your fingers. How good you are with them,” you bit your lip and leaned your head back into the leather seat and closed your eyes. “But still fuck you.”

When you were silent for a few minutes Harry looked over at you and noticed you were asleep.

He was glad you’d stopped staying the things you were. Your words had him confused. You were going from hot to cold fast. But he knew you wouldn’t ever reveal such things to him if you hadn’t been so far gone.

Waking you up gently, he put his arms under yours to help you out of his car, “We’re home, Y/n. Let’s get you up to bed.”

You were able to use your legs, but things were spinning. You clung tightly to Harry as he slowly brought you upstairs to your room.

When your bottom hit your mattress you laid back and sighed, “I might throw up,” you said.

Harry laughed quietly and shook his head as he helped you out of your shoes. He knelt down and unzipped the leather to pull each one off. He didn’t intend to let his eyes wander over your legs and your thighs, but your dress had gotten bunched up so he could practically see your panties. And then they were fully on view when you scooted yourself into your bed further.

Harry leaned over you and pulled your blankets up over your body, “I’ll be right back with water.”

He couldn’t believe how adorable he thought you were. Even though you were still angry at him over what he’d done he liked the sass a little. He was definitely attracted to you. There was no doubt in his mind about that. He tried not thinking about that night with you but after you’d brought it up he couldn’t help himself but to indulge in thoughts of the way you felt and how wet you got for him. Your body, your voice… You were good with your hands too, he smiled remembering your comment about how you liked his hands. But of course, the smile fell from his face when he remembered how the night ended. How shitty he’d been. But now things were too complicated and he wasn’t sure that any kind of apology would ever be enough.

When he got back to your room you were asleep. Out cold. He placed the water on your nightstand and brushed his fingers along your forehead. You were cute.

He plugged in your cell phone and smiled at your sleeping face.

“Good night, pretty girl,” he whispered as he turned off the lamp next to you before leaving the room and closing the door behind himself.

Part 3

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saradika · 6 months

Text

— invisible string

din djarin x vaguely force sensitive!reader

rated e - 1.7k

tags: divergent timeline, soulmate!au, takes place across season 1 & 2, missed connections, the Razor Crest lives, PiV, marking, creampie, magical elements

a/n: for the TS Challenge by @beskarandblasters! This was so fun, thanks so much for hosting this event! 💖 I was so excited to get this song & character

There's something about him, this man.

Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.

You feel as if you are always out of step.

Too early. And then somehow - just a little bit too late.

As if you've missed something crucial. A prickle on the back of your neck. Eyes scanning the crowds of people as you weave through cities - looking for someone.

As to whom, though - you're never quite sure.

You think it's always been there. A similar sort of feeling that flickers when you're in danger. That was something you had cultivated. Manipulated into a force you can wield. A push and pull, an aid - when you need it. Something you draw from often, during your days as a smuggler.

But you're not sure what to do with this.

The feeling is pushed down on Nevarro.

Contacted for a job, one that had been easy enough. Your goods exchanged in a dingy cantina - a shipment of stolen fuel cells furtively traded to an irritated man that went by Karga. Your eyebrows raised at the charred hole in the man's fine clothes - a half-hearted wonder at how the man was still standing.

The Imperial credits he offers you do not get you far. He's unable to offer you a puck - his trade was in bounty hunting, not smuggling. You're not sure if you'd take one, and the cells are enough to keep his crew afloat for a while. A dead-end for now, but you think - not always.

After, your ship drifts along an unseen track.

To Tatooine this time. A big job for the Hutts that takes you two weeks. Days in the sun spent waiting for the payments to transfer to your account, and so in the meantime - you tinker.

Trading your way up. A broken blaster fixed, exchanged for ship parts. The parts installed, the labor paid for with two, beat-up old speeders.

Only to sell them both to a cocky hot-shot bounty hunter for double their value - his over-blown self-confidence eclipsing the fact that you were absolutely swindling him.

It’s not your problem.

Though here, you can't help but feel the urge to linger. An itch beneath your skin, as if you've missed something, again.

You ignore it. Trading up one more time - swapping Mos Eisley for the sea. The choppy waters of Trask washing away the grit and sand that clings to your skin.

There's always work to be found here - deals to make with the Quarren and Mon Calamari. Those days spent at the inn, with lunches of warm homemade chowder and wrapped in chunky-knit sweaters.

Eyes snagging on a couple that often sits together at lunch. Their features frog-like, affection clear in their soft chatter, the slow blink of their large, black eyes. You imagine it to be a stolen moment - meeting up in the afternoon, too eager to wait until evening to see each other.

It’s nice.

It follows you, back to your room.

You think about them later - the obvious connection. A bone-deep urge to find another that matches a part of you. Something you've never had.

Somehow you know it’s out there.

But it's not time.

The next day, your ship takes off again.

There's a feeling deep down that for once, you're right where you need to be.

Your path is not guided by a job. Something spinning inside your chest like the point of a compass, your fingers keying coordinates with a mind of their own.

It's not a sea. Not a desert. Not a growing town, slowly rebuilding.

You're taken to a forest. The trees are unlike those you've seen - stretching tall and thin towards the sky. Their leaves sparse, but still filling the space with the sheer number.

There's a village - but you're drawn away from the tall walls. There's nothing inside that you seek. Drawn back to the trees you had seen from above. There's no tracks for you to follow, it's only your own boots pressed into the earth.

But you still go out, day after day.

It's on the third day, as you sit by the edge of a clear, shallow pool, that you hear the crack of branches under boots.

It should frighten you… but it doesn't.

It feels like an inevitability.

Your head turns, and there's a man there. His limbs encased in armor of shining beskar. A Mandalorian, you realize, when your eyes meet the dark visor that bisects his helmet.

"It's you." The words are a flat buzz, through his helmet. Unsurprised, somehow. Just as you are.

And it's him.

There's something about him, this man.

You're not sure what that something is...

But think you are finally ready to find out.

His touch is familiar, though you've never known it. Much like everything else, it feels almost destined.

You know he feels it too. A slow circling dance, the weight of his eyes following you from behind the visor. That string inside no longer feels like a leash, but instead - a lifeline.

Finally being able to acknowledge that he has been what you've been orbiting around this whole time. Easing that ever-present ache of loneliness that had always followed you.

For some time, he had thought you would be the one to train Grogu. That perhaps this had been the reason why the fates had pushed you together.

You had tried, and failed. That part of you still too raw, too unfashioned. It lived inside you, but it was something you had been unable to teach another. How could you, when you did not even know the word for what it was?

And as time passed, you realized deep down that you were truly meant to be here now. Not for the before.

An aid at first, of course. You had gone with him to Tython. Traded in your ship, and traveled on the Slave 1. Had faced death by his side, staring into the black chrome of the Dark Troopers.

Had grieved with him, after.

You think this had been your place all along.

This liminal space, in those months that follow.

Giving him something to grab onto. Fingers sinking into flesh, your back hitting the mattress as he follows.

It’s dark, in the belly of his ship. With anyone else your senses would be screaming, a ringing alarm.

But you’ve come to know each room, fingers tracing the cold metal. From the walls, to the bunk, to him - the tips slipping under to tug at the fastenings of his armor.

He is quiet, like he often is now. But you can feel the heat that rolls off him in waves. The harsh buzz of his breath through the vocoder, before the light cuts out completely.

Before it’s just him and you.

His knees nudge your thighs wider. Pressing into muscle and flesh, forcing them up and apart. Your fingers twist in his curls, angling your mouth up to meet the kiss that is all teeth and tongue.

Fingers dip down, thick and calloused. Parting you, nudging inside to where you’re wet and waiting. Pumping deep with his thumb pressed snug against the button of your clit - leaving you dizzy and clenching and wondering if he just knew, as well.

You think he did. He does.

And when he works himself inside you, you finally feel full. Ripping a sound from each of you - his rough and swallowed, yours a broken murmur of his name.

Something else given in the dark, on another night akin to this. Pieces of himself peeled back and gifted, only to be carefully wrapped up and buried deep.

The pound of his hips itches at something you’ve been missing. Those hands tugging at your hips, pulling you to meet each harsh thrust. Fingers slipping down to swirl against you again - a spark rising each time you fit together, building swiftly to an inferno.

“Din,” You breathe, as something heavy flickers inside you, just out of reach, “Stars, please. Don’t stop-”

“I won’t,” It’s a low oath, as his cock grinds deep, “I’ve waited too long for you, cyare.”

He wrenches it from you, setting you ablaze. Your is cry loud in the tiny room as you come undone. The wild swirl of your senses narrowing down, until it’s just him. Din’s mouth against your neck, warm breath and teeth nipping marks into your skin - the pleasure flowing from you in pulsing waves, sinking into him.

Making him follow, no more than a dozen thrusts later. A gritted, bitten-back moan of your own name, before his hips are stuttering. Giving back what you passed to him, his cock throbbing inside you, buried deep.

Where he stays, until he’s gone soft. A pang of loss shuddering through you when he slips from between your thighs - expecting him to return to his own bunk.

To leave you, again.

But the mattress dips, next to you. The space narrow, a short sigh when you wiggle too much trying to get comfortable. Hands hooking around your wrists, hauling your hips over his. Settling you down on top of him.

And in the dark - he stays.

“Should have met you on Tatooine,” Din tells you later that night, unbidden. Letting your legs twine with his, thighs parted to make room for you. “I didn’t know it was you. If I had-”

His words end abruptly, hanging. Both of you thinking about all those moments when time hadn’t lined up. The synchronicity of your movements, just barely nudged out of time.

Both there, during that same moment. If you had stayed another day, maybe that would have been your meeting.

But you had left early, and he had came late.

“We’re here now.” You tell him, chin pressing against his chest. Eyes finding his in the dark, though you cannot see. “Isn’t that enough?”

There’s the brush of his hand along your spine - knuckles, and then fingertips as they unfurl.

“Yes.”

It is enough, for now.

You’re not sure if it’s forever. If, for some reason, you’ll be forced to part again. But tonight, you’re not worried.

Because, if you were to reach inside yourself and pluck that golden string right now - letting it thrum…

You think that he would feel it, too.

thanks so much for reading!! 💖

cyare - beloved

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #ts drabble challenge #din djarin imagine

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nogenderbee · 7 months

Text

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ ℙ𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕤 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Could I request Lyney, Freminet, Kazuha, and Heizou with a reader who makes plushies?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Of course! AAAA ALL OF THEM ARE MY FAV BOYS LET'S GO!! Anyway~ I had a bit of fun with it so hope you like it!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ Kazuha finds what you're doing pretty adorable

✧ he loved how you can make something so fun with just few materials and threads

✧ and if you ever happen to lack idea for new plushie... he'll be happy to tell you few stories, real or not

✧ if you actually make a plushie based on his stories, he'll melt on spot and you'd be able to see genuine smile on his face

✧ he's always on ship so if you're not part of th Crux, he'll sleep burried in your plushies when he's away (you heard stories from Beidou about that~)

✧ and if you give him one of your plushies? Oh he's not leaving your side today! In fact, he's ready to pamper your face in kisses so get ready for that once you get somewhere private!

✧ surprisingly, he recognizes all materials just by touching them! He says it's just a lucky guess but how can someone lucky guess something 30 times in a row?!!

"Those are high quality materials... You didn't had to spend so much on me... Let me treat you to a dinner for that at least."

✧ same goes for style of sewing, he'll somehow notice details like that and if he notices difficult style, you can be sure he'll compliment you for that

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot - come get your poetic samurai~

✧ Heizou somehow notices any time you have or lack any idea

✧ if you have one, he'll make it a fun game for himself to get to know what is it without asking you about it directly

✧ but if you lack it, he'll randomly drop small story or two untill it catches your attention, tho if you look closely, there's small smirk on his face

✧ similiar to boy alone, he also guesses materials quite quickly tho it's more of an experience rather than lucky guess

✧ it's actually useful to be able to tell difference between materials, so he most likely knows at least the basics

✧ but one thing he loves doing is teasing you when you desperately try to hide you're planning a toy for him but you still want to make sure he'll like it

"Hei! What do you think of this? Soft enough?"

"Hm... I would guess so, yes. But why are you asking me that instead of person who'll receive it?"

"I d- They just deserve it!"

"Mhm~ Whatever you say, dear."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot - come get your flirty detective~

✧ Lyney can't help but smile every time you present him with new idea, prototype or plushie

✧ he thinks this job suits you and is often amazed when you start rambling about different types of materials and the difference between each of them

✧ whenever you present a plushie and asks for opinion, he'll take his time to show he takes you seriously and check plushie from every side, squeeze it, hug it... and then he tells you what he thinks in details!

✧ but he likes to be playful sometimes, he'll take the plushie, inspect it and then pull disappearing and reapearing trick off leaving him chuckling and hopefully you too

"For me?! Oh mon cherie... I absolutely love it! It's the perfect color... and it's so soft too~ Mwah! Hehe, why won't I repeat it on creator now~?"

✧ prepare yourself mentally to see this plushie on his performances and for Lynette to tell you the cutest gossips about him and his new plushie

✧ and if you give him a plushie that you designed specifically for him? Well... you know how clingy he usually is? Multiply it by 10

✧ he'll spoil you with not singular rainbow rose but biggest bouquet of them he could find, takes you to a fancy restaurant and of course, hold your hand and hugs you all day long

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot - come get your charming magician~

✧ Freminet is actually happy both of you have something in common, I mean... you both like to create?

✧ the only difference in what you do is that he creates out of metal and you create our of softer materials

✧ if you have a penguin plushie that you often carry with you, there's no wonder even Pers was interested! Who knows? Maybe little robot feel in love like the creator~?

"I love it, it's cute~ Heh, and Pers loves it too I guess... You really did a great job with that plushie."

✧ he knows how it is to struggle from lack of ideas or to need someone to check your sketch, so he'll be more than happy to do that if you ask him

✧ when it comes to materials... he's not the worst but he will get similar ones mistaken usually

✧ first time you made a plushie for him, he felt like he didn't deserve it and needed to repay you as soon as possible

✧ but with time, he learned to just accept it and repay you when the ocassion happens. Maybe he'll just pay for dinner? Or you'll see some robot in the movie and he makes it for you?

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot - come get your shy diver~

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theundercoversquid · 4 months

Text

Dozing in the Summer Sun

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x author!Reader

Request: author!reader and charles leclerc when will the sixth part come? I think it might have something to do with what they did during their summer vacation - @everynameistakenshit

Warnings:

Masterlist

A writer and formula one driver masterlist

Holidays. A time for rest and relaxation. Only there was no rest for the wicked.

You and Charles liked to pretend that it was a break from both of your jobs. But you both knew that wasn't true. Even on holiday, Charles had to keep an eye on what he was eating and keep fit, and for you, there was no taking a day off from your brain. You never know when inspiration may strike.

But yet, the two of you still treated it as a holiday as much as you could. The two of you had earned this break.

You and Charles were both lying on a towel in the sun together. Your head on his chest as he ran his fingers up your back, tracing spirals and swirls on the vast planes of your back.

But then, in a sudden rush of realization, it hit you. You sat up straight, your heart racing, and scrambled to your feet. You bolted back to the hotel room, your feet sinking into the soft sand as you ran.

Leaving a fondly amused Charles in your wake. As he stood up, too. Rolling up the towel before he followed you back at a much more reasonable pace.

When Charles got to the little cottage that you were staying in, he could see you sat at your computer. Frantically typing away whatever it was that had come to your mind under the hot summer sun.

Walking up to you, Charles dropped a kiss on your head before disappearing to do his own thing. Not wanting to disrupt you while you were working.

When you finally left the idea-induced haze, you stumbled back into the real world, eyes blinking as you looked at all that you had just written.

Pushing yourself away from your computer, you went in search of Charles, wondering where your beloved boy had gone while you were busy.

You found him sprawled on your bed, with one of your books in one hand and a highlighter in the other.

"Really, my love?" You asked him, laughing.

"Absolutely." Charles nodded. "this is but a peep into your mind, and I want to understand it, and you as much as I can."

"I'm writing that down," you call as you turn around and head back to your computer. Leaving Charles confused for a moment as you type down what he had said before returning to him.

Flopping down so your head lands on his stomach. You snuggle into him. Letting the feeling of his breathing lull you, as all you can hear is the crashing of waves and the rustling of pages.

You dozed. Falling in and out of consciousness as you and Charles stayed in that position. Content just to be in each other's presence.

Eventually, though, Charles budged you awake softly. His lips dropping down onto your forehead.

"Mon amour, you need to wake up." He murmured against your headline. "We have our dinner reservation that we need to get to."

Mumbling, you rolled over, pressing your nose further into his stomach, not wanting to get up.

"Come on, mon amour." Charles coaxed humour in his voice. "You can even wear that pretty outfit you packed especially for this trip."

Your eyes finnlay opend at that.

"Fine," You grumbled as you finally rolled out of bed.

"Come on, mon amour." Charles coxed as he gently helped you start getting ready.

When he was sure that you were about to get back into the bed, he started to get ready himself.

Brefily slipping of as he returned dressed to the nines.

"Oh," you exclaimed brethely, looking him up and down. Don't you look so handsome?"

"Non of that, mon amour." Charles warned, grabbing your hands that had come to rest on his chest. "We have a reservation," he said.

"I know, I know." You laughed. Turn in to grab your jewellery.

Letting out a yelp as Charles playfully taps you on the bottom. Causing you to glare playfully at him over your shoulder.

When you were finally ready, Chalres grabbed you by the hand, leading you out of your hotel and into the restaurant like an overexcited child.

#f1 #f1 imagine #Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfiction #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #f1 x you

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geekgirles · 7 months

Text

I'm actually quite proud of Armand right now. Openly admitting to Amalia the reason their relationship was always strained was because he'd always been jealous of her and her relationship with their father is such a great character moment for him.

One thing season 4 is definitely delivering is some much needed depth and exploration of the Sadida Royal family. And I find myself fascinated (not only because Amalia is my favourite character and I have a soft spot for her people).

Personally, Armand is a character I have a lot of trouble having a clear stance on. I don't hate him, and it's true his motives become clear and even understandable once you give them some thought, it's just that Ankama does a wonderful job at making him both outwardly dislikable given his abrasive personality and some of his most questionable actions.

For example, season 3 Armand and season 4 Armand are almost like night and day. Maybe it is indeed that his new role as king has forced him to be more responsible and emotionally mature, but the vibes between L'assamblée and Falling Down are completely different.

In season 3 he just oozed contempt for his sister, and his actions towards her reeked of ulterior motives. The fact that Aurora has been described as manipulative (even her hairstyle is meant to hint at her true nature) and was purposely placed in between the two siblings as a visual nod to how she's keeping them apart doesn't help matters.

Which is another factor to take into account: Aurora's character and the role she plays in the siblings' deteriorating bond.

Even if so far she seems to genuinely love Armand, I really can't bring myself to trust Aurora. Not only because of all the behind-the-scenes facts I already mentioned, but because her actions are just sketchy and clearly veered to the betterment of the Osamodas rather than the Sadida.

First of all, her contempt for Amalia is genuine and she legitimately seems to be planning to send her away to keep her from interfering with her plans. After all, this is literally what she had to say about her sister-in-law:

"Ne vous en faîtes pas mon prince, nous finirons bien par redresser cette mauvaise herbe."

Translation: "Don't worry, my prince, we'll get this weed straightened out in the end."

(I haven't watched the English dub, so my apologies if the translation doesn't match the official version).

There's also the fact that, despite being the new Sadida Queen, her intentions in season 3 clearly laid in the benefit of her own kingdom, the Osamodas. Such is reflected in her choice of suitors for Amalia:

She intended for Amalia to marry Ashdur, her own cousin, thus, strengthening the Osamodas' hold over Sadida politics. In fact, it becomes quite clear Aurora's choice in suitors, only supported by Amalia implying back then her sister-in-law had already tried the same thing with her brothers, was much less about the future of the Sadida Kingdom and more about the Osamodas' sake.

After all, while arranged marriages between royal families isn't anything new, usually the sensible and even most strategic thing to do is for rulers to"spread" their children and marry them into different families around the world. That is exactly what Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabela of Castile did with their own children, they married them off to the royal families of England, Portugal, and Austria.

With that in mind, having both Sheran Sharm children marry Osamodas royalty just seems dumb, doesn't it? It all comes to show Aurora is more concerned over solidifying her power over the Sadida Kingdom than its actual well-being.

Which is why I'm still going to keep my guard up regarding her character until the season ends. After all, we still have 9 more episodes where everything can go up in flames.

But going back to Armand, even though he is in love with his wife, his treatment of Amalia in L'assamblée is leagues better than it was in season 3. Unlike most of his appearances and his interactions with his sister, where he kept treating her like a child who didn't know any better (what she just so happened to accuse him of when presented with Ashtur, as a matter of fact), here not only does he finally open up to his sister about his insecurities and his reasoning for his behaviour towards her, but he offers her support in the wake of their father's passing and even invites her to attend the assembly with him.

He is entrusting her with responsibilities befitting a queen, not a child.

Their relationship is finally healing.

As I said earlier, despite the undeniable depth behind his character, it's difficult to really side with Armand in plenty of occasions. Not only because of his difficult personality and flaws, but because it is so much easier to sympathise with Amalia.

And I'm not talking exclusively about the fact that, as one of the main characters, we've been by her side throughout everything, witnessing her true selfless, responsible, and brave self, but the fact that her position within her own family certainly tugs at our heartstrings.

Amalia is the youngest sibling, the princess. For all the sheltering and privileges that can get her, it also became her gilded cage. And for the most part, not even her family was a safe haven.

Queen Sheran Sharm died when Amalia was probably still a kid, whereas Armand was most likely already a teenager. As King Oakheart revealed back when he explained to Amalia it had been Armand who insisted they let her go, the queen's death shook their entire family, making the king and prince unintentionally turn their backs on Amalia during a time she needed as much affection as possible. And so, her royal duties became stifling, her royal upbringing unbearable. Thus is the reason for her wanderlust.

And then we have Armand's reason for not always being fair to her: jealousy. He resented her for being Oakheart's favourite, despite constantly going off to adventures while he remained in the kingdom by his side. Now, as I said, this was a great character moment for Armand, one that also belies his character development. However, it doesn't change the fact that, while easier to relate and sympathise with him, we still sympathise with Amalia more or have been doing so for far longer because we knew the effect this had had on her.

We all have been someone's scapegoat to their frustrations with a third person, we have all been treated unfairly by someone who, for whatever reason, couldn't solve their own issues with the person they had problems with in the first place and took it out on us. This is the crux of Armand and Amalia's strained relationship: for years, Armand took his frustrations and insecurities out on Amalia instead of having an honest conversation with their father.

That's why it's easier to sympathise with Amalia, because we know that, deep down, for all her flaws, she was never at fault for how their relationship turned out. Because we can understand her frustration and pain when, even with their dying father, Armand still chose to listen to his wife over her and try to marry her off instead of being there for each other when they both needed most. As Amalia called him out for before leaving with Yugo, he still chose politics over family. Everything involving Armand and Aurora is about politics.

But now that they are at least beginning to rebuild their relationship, I sincerely hope things get better for them. Unless their original intentions back in 2017 have changed, I seriously fear Ankama will still use Aurora to complicate things further between these two.

Please, Ankama, I'm literally begging you. They're all the family they each have left, don't let their relationship be ruined forever.

#wakfu #wakfu spoilers #wakfu season 4 #wakfu season 4 spoilers #un nouveau monde #a new world #l'assamblée #the assembly #wakfu analysis #wakfu season 3 #falling down #amalia sheran sharm #armand sheran sharm #king oakheart sheran sharm #aurora #wakfu aurora #ankama #osamodas #sadida

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saintslewis · 1 year

Text

Pink + White

pairing: charles leclerc x black fem dj!reader

summary: in which your relationship with charles gets exposed so you decide to just hard launch

face claim: uncle waffles 😋

social media au. (with a bit of writing)

twitter

instagram

yourinstagram

liked by carlossainz55, arthurleclerc and 3,684,291 others

yourinstagram mon amour

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user did we skip a few chapters??

user i don't remember seeing this in the prologue???

leclerk MARRIAGE?!

yourinstagram i'm just as surprised as you are tbh

carlossainz55 you have no idea how hard it was to keep this secret

charles_leclerc you are very much appreciated, mate

landonoriss i took the second pic btw 🤭

yourinstagram you want a cookie?

landonoriss yes pls

yourinstagram they're in the pantry, come over whenever

lewishamilton congrats you two! sending love and light 🤍

yourinstagram thank you Lewis 🥹 and thank you for making me work during our engagement party

lewishamilton i didn't know anyone better 😭

yourinstagram i'll take that hidden compliment, old man

user user look! she’s sooooo pretty! Charles is so lucky

user and they do look like the ending of pink + white

yourinstagram this is the sweetest thing ever omg??

fan my fav dj is engaged to my fav f1 driver?? what is life? tutorial?

yourinstagram we have a couples interview coming up soon so stay tuned for that 🩷

scuderiaferrari our favourite lady in red ❤️

yourinstagram didn't want to mess up this face beat but the tears are already flowing 🥹🫂

danielricciardo so i have a slight favour....

yourinstagram lemme hard launch in peace pls

lilymhe and how the FUCK have i never seen you at races?

yourinstagram what if i told you i'm an international super spy?

user SUPER SPYYY

ynstan we lost you to a YT MAN?!

yourinstagram listen, i love this yt man very much

arthurleclerc am i allowed to gloat that i was the first to know?

yourinstagram you can gloat but don't forget you literally barged in after the proposal

arthurleclerc why'd you call me out like this?

formula1 this was not on our 2023 bingo card but we love this very much

charles_leclerc my beautiful wife

yourinstagram my darling husband

f1wagupdates

liked by ynlover, mercedesgirly and 3,345 others

f1wagupdates looks like we have a new lady joining the paddock (she’s on the left!). Her name is Y/n Y/l/n (soon to be Leclerc) and she is an international dj by profession. She is reportedly two years younger than Charles and spends most of her off days in Monaco with him. The couple revealed their relationship by Y/n showing off a diamond ring on her latest post. We wish this beautiful couples nothing but happiness!

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user are we just gonna ignore the elephant in the room?

user is the elephant in the room with us? and if you're gonna say it, just say it with your chest you loser

user an insider said that she already deals with direct insults from paddocks around the world. i can't imagine what she's about to go through

user if you scroll on her page, all you see is her wearing skimpy clothes for her job with everything showing. charles deserves better

user if anything, she serves cunt in every way possible and when you say he deserves better, you're talking about yourself? bc boy do I have news for YOU 🤣

user love a black woman from infinity to infinityyyyyy

user my god, she is gorgeous

user saw her in show once and she is TALENTEDT

user here comes his 'wives' in the comments being weird

user like he's my husband but i will GLADLY be sister wives with her

user not sure if i want her or him or both

user when i saw the rumours, i didn't know that she was THIS pretty like how did Charles pull her????

f1wagupdates that's what we're thinking

user the twitter girlies were right omg and the fact that she drives the pista had to mean they were married bc literally no one but him drives that car

user she seems so sweet, i hope nothing bad happens to her

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, sebastianvettel and 5,838,393 others

charles_leclerc mi belle

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user how the hell did he pull her???

charles_leclerc her mom helped

sebastianvettel congratulations ❤️

charles_leclerc thank you, mate 🫂

carmenmmundt my girlfriend 😋

georgerussell63 hello??

charles_leclerc hello???

yourinstagram hey Carmen 🥰

user this hair colour on her is so pretty

maxverstappen1 the one lady that Yuki is taller than ❤️

yourinstagram i will literally burn all your rbr caps, don’t test me

maxverstappen1 what are you gonna do? hit my knees? 🤣

yourinstagram i’ll ban you from entering clubs :)

maxverstappen1 okay sorry y/n 😕

interview

"Does this hair look fine?" You looked at Charles as you flipped your hair to the front to decide on how you want to look on camera. The Monegasque man stared with you with such admiration that he didn't even realise he wasn't blinking. You nudged him to break him out of his trance that you seemed to have on him and he shook his head a little, giving you a boyish smile when he saw your amused face.

“Everything looks good on you, baby.” Charles complimented you, something he can’t go a day without doing. Your smile had closed your eyes as you held each other’s hands. The camera crew in front of you were in awe at the two of you showing each other your love.

“Okay, are you guys ready to begin?” The interviewer asked as she sat across from you two. You both nodded and scooted closer together. She had introduced herself and the both of you as her guests before you introduced yourselves as each other’s fiancés before your careers which caused the studio to laugh.

“How did you two meet?”

“Mon amour, you can start. I’ll add on here and there.” Charles encouraged, playing with the jewellery on your hand and staring at your engagement ring, all the memories of the proposal coming back to him. It was summer break for f1 and you two were in the hotel room overlooking Lake Como, feeling like you were in a movie. You had planned to get lunch then take a boat ride to a famous landmark there. When you had gotten there, it was quiet and you barely saw the photographer that Charles had hired for that day. You both stood in the huge butterfly garden, with you distracted by the flowers, he knelt down on his knee and professed his love for you, ‘pink + white’ by frank ocean playing in the background per his request. It was private yet so beautiful, calling both your families who knew and Arthur surprising you after the proposal.

“It’s a cute story if I do say so myself. I had taken my mom to Monaco as it has always been our dream and I was finally able to provide that for her. We were sitting in this pretty cafe in Monte Carlo and to be fair, we were gossiping and laughing so of course people would hear us but we weren’t that loud.” You smiled at the memory, seeing everything as you spoke.

“All during our lunch, Charles and Arthur, my brother in law, were sitting next to us and they were in their own realm too.” You said, giving him a look so that he could say his version of the story.

“Well um like Y/n said, I’m with my brother and I kept trying to hear what accent she had because it was beautiful. So I turn to her and ask her where she was from and we just started talking as her mom and my brother are waiting for us to finish. Her mom even said that we were meant to be because when we met, the dress she was wearing was the same colour as my eyes.” Charles spoke, constantly looking between you and the camera.

“He then asked to take me on a date the very next day and he said that he wanted to give me the universe and would be happy if i spent time with him, even if it were a short while. Three years later, here we are.” You concluded, showing your ring to the camera as you couldn’t stop smiling.

Just the beginning for the Ferrari boy and his queen.

#formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x black reader #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #x black reader #Spotify

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saintflwrs · 4 months

Text

𑁍.*･𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆

…

𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 your schedule. You were a routined person, you worked from Mon-Thurs and would come to the gym after your shift. When Friday rolled around you were free so you would workout earlier then usual. No later than noon. The same headphones always sat on your head and the gym bag slung around your shoulder.

He wanted to talk to you but you always had this RBF when working out. You were so pretty ofc he couldn’t help but steal glances and quickly look away when you two would lock eyes.

You were in your own little world that you rarely saw the men that would stare as your ass and make comments about you. It made his jaw clench. He tried to push you out his head but you carried this demeanor that drew him closer and closer.

One day you entered the boxing gym which was a shock because you never once set foot in there. A look of awe was on your face.

“I never knew they had boxing area in here.” You gasped.

“How long you been going to this gym and you ain’t know there was a boxing gym?” somebody mentioned.

“Nigga, ion be exploring.” You barked back and everybody laughed.

He wasn’t the only one that drew closer to you. Everybody in the boxing gym grew to love you. Ever since that day he noticed you coming in there to help. Whether that be changing mats, helping boxers tie their gloves or even just hanging out. Everybody loved the positive energy you brought into such a violent place.

You would occasionally say Hi to him or tell him he was doing a good job but never really had a genuine conversation until one day. He was having a hard time tying his glove, you could see the visible frustration on his face. Suddenly he felt a hand on the glove and looked up.

“Need Help?” You smiled

“That obvious huh?” He mumbled

“Yeah.” You breathily laughed “Heard you got a match coming up.”

“I do, how’d you know?” He raised his eyebrow

“Your coach told me, he also invited me to come. Ima be there.” You said.

You were gonna be there? But you didn’t even know him. The thought made him all the more excited for the event. From that day forward you guys were sort of inseparable, always on FaceTime until midnight. Frequently hanging out to get ice cream when he was supposed to be watching his calories. It was platonic. But you both yearned for more.

I mean you were HIGHLY attracted to him. His physical appearance was the opposite of his shy personality. Tattoos decorated his back forearms and some on his chest and not to mention his body. A six pack and strong biceps made him all the more attractive paired with his dimples that would show when he laughed with you. The nigga was fine, okay?

A week before his match he called you, asking you to come by the boxing gym around 7 pm. He needed your help with defense. You didn’t know much about boxing but he always was quick to ask you to help him. In actuality he just wanted to hear your soothing voice.

You had a few errands to run that day but when you finished you went right to the gym. Your heels echoed as your feet stepped onto the stone floor in the gym. The sound alerted him, causing him to turn his head towards you a smile immediately forming on his face.

“Hey..” He greeted, slightly out of breath.

“What’s up?” You asked as he stepped out of the ring walking towards you. His hair was dripping from sweat and his shirt was off, displaying his tattoos. “I know you didn’t call me over here this late just to work on defense.” You crossed your arms batting your lashes up at him.

“And I know you didn’t come here in that jean skirt for nothing.” He teased.

“I was doing shit before I came here.” You scoffed.

“Yeah I bet you were.” He inched closer to you, eyes trailing lower and lower.

“They should let me in the ring with you, I could beat you.” You joked.

“Yeah? you think you could take me?” His voice dropped. You playfully punched his stomach before replying.

“Yeah I—“ You paused for a second, it clicked in your head what he was getting at and it made your heart beat faster.

He softly grabbed your wrists and pulled you closer to his chest. His hand rested on your cheek, eyes scanning yours as if he was indirectly asking to kiss you. When you nodded, his lips crashed onto yours in complete hunger and desperation. He gently bit your lip causing you to gasp so he slyly slipped his tongue in your mouth. Your mouths moved together in unison begging for more of each other.

His strong arms then picked you up, your legs wrapped around his torso. He stepped towards a room with you still in his arms and placed you on a nearby desk with loads of paperwork that was pushed to the ground to make more space for you.

It was his coach’s office and he knew that but didn’t seem to care.

“We.. shouldn’t Fuck—be.. doing this here..” You moaned out

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” He said while leaving hickeys down your neck.

“What? that we’re fucking on his office desk..” You whined.

He softly chuckled before removing your top and sucking on your tits rolling his middle finger in between your nipple.

“Oh shit..” You sighed while leaning your head back. Your hands tangled in his hair gently pulling on the strands signaling you wanted more.

He swiftly pulled your jean skirt down and spread your legs open. You hissed from the sudden cold air hitting your pretty cunny. It was dripping wet and he made it even wetter by letting a glob of spit drop down onto it.

You bit you lip at the action, he then lined himself up with your gushing pussy. He teased you by rubbing his tip on your hole his precum spreading all over your folds as you loudly whined.

“Please.. Fuck me” You begged, eyes glossed.

“I got you mamí, don’t worry.” He placed a kiss at the corner of your lips before inserting himself into you completely.

You gasped and your nails immediately clawed into his back as he pounded into you hitting just the right spots. The desk shook at his relentless thrusts.

“Mmph~ This pussy feels so good.” He praised “You gon take my dick? Yeah you are. Fuckkkk.” He groaned as he gripped your waist hips snapping into yours.

“Yes~ Oh my god— Right there, Right there” You cried as your eyes rolled back. It felt so fucking good. Everything was so calculated.

“I can’t— Mmm~ It’s too much—“ You croaked out.

“Yes you can mama, your right there. You can do it.” He breathed heavy, dick twitching inside of you but he never slowed down his pace.

Your release was so unexpected, I guess you were so lost in the pleasure that when you coated his dick in your cum you didn’t even realize.

When he saw the white ring begin to form at the base of his cock, he slowed down hitting slow strokes making sure you rode out your high.

“There you go, there it is. Your so pretty.” He cooed. Calloused fingers pushing your hair out of your face.

Shortly after he came inside of you and when he pulled out, his cum rushed out of your gushy cunt. The sight made him hard again. He showered your body in kisses and you giggled and traced your fingertips around his skin.

After a few moments of silence your eyes caught a glimpse of something.

“Oh my god..” You gasped “There’s a camera in here.”

It was facing directly towards you guys the red

light blinked repetitively.

He loudly laughed, dimples showing he didn’t seem to care but you were so embarrassed.

“Relax, coach doesn’t even check the cameras” He reassured you.

“𝐖𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.” 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐃..

⋆˚✿˖°

#connie springer #connie x black y/n #tanaka x reader #eren x reader #eren smut #black y/n #geto suguru #rafe cameron #iwaizumi x reader #ban x reader

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 1 year

Note

Hey I love your Stories, have been reading them for days now 😍

I have request for a story and maybe you like it too ☺️

„ so fem/reader is a new teacher at Nevermore and has a crush on Larissa, but would never take a step in that direction, we consider reader pretty submissive, at one night she wants to drop by Larissa’s office for some paper work and interrupts Larissa and morticia making out at Larissa’s desk, they are caught in the act and reader wants to leave immediately, but the two woman have something else in mind, maybe some punishment for not knocking or interrupting them“

So i Hope you enjoy this idea as much as I do :) if not that’s okay too 😅 have a nice day

Hey hey hey @scream-queenlover !! Thanks for being patient with me on this one 🥰 I would love to write this for you! I simply cannot get enough of Morissa xReader 🤍✨🫰🏻 And I added a song for you as well >33

Women in Power make My Knees Wobble ~Morissa xFem Teacher!Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, kissing, eating out, face sitting, orgasm denial, degrading kink, punishment kink, spanking, spanking kink, more implied smut, threesome, poly couple, etc.

Enjoy (;

From the second you set eyes on Larissa Weems, you were head over heels for the woman. Which wasn’t the greatest, as she was your new boss… Not to mention that Larissa already had a girlfriend, Morticia Addams, the potions teacher.

So to keep yourself out of trouble and just from all around being fired, you kept your feelings to yourself. You weren’t one to take risks, and you sure as hell weren’t one to meddle in the relationship of another woman. So you did your job and stifled your feelings for the blonde.

Occasionally, your job included dropping off your students graded exams late evening, which you had worked your ass off grading all day. You step up to Larissa’s office doors, lightly knocking on them. But to your surprise, the door opened as you knocked. Enough for you to see inside the blondes office. Enough for you to regret ever knocking…

Morticia had Larissa pinned against her desk, as her lips ravaged the blondes precious red lips. Larissa let out a straggled moan into the kiss, as her hand snuck down to squeeze the raven haired woman’s ass, elciting a groan from Morticia.

Your breath hitched at the sight, your eyes widened, and you inadvertently dropped all your graded papers, giving you away to the pair of women who were heatedly making out in the office. Both women immediately swiveled their heads around, Larissa’s red lipstick having stained both of their lips. Their eyes widened and jaws dropped in tandem at the idea of having been caught.

“I… I’m so sorry… I’ll go…!” You stuttered, your face turning flush red.

You hastily grabbed all your papers and went to close the door, but a firm, pasty hand grabbed your arm as you closed the door. You gulped and looked up to see Morticia staring you down with passionate intent.

“This is the one you say stares at you at meetings, Mon Amour…?” Morticia purred to her counterpart.

“Hmmm… quite the little slut… staring at my ass at staff meetings…” Larissa lustfully purred, making her way over to you and Morticia, pulling you into the office, and pinning you against the wall, “watching me make out with my girlfriend…” she husked in your ear.

Chills went down your spine as her words went straight to your core. You gulped and you’re face was tomato red at this point from embarrassment. Morticia was quick to come up flush against your side.

“Sounds like a pretty slut needs to be taught a lesson…” Morticia wickedly purred.

Your breath hitched at the thought of punishment. Especially at the hands of these two women…

Larissa’s tone switched for second, “Are you alright with this, darling?” She caringly asked.

You nodded vigorously.

“Yes yes… please…!” you breathlessly mewled.

Larissa’s eyes darkened at your confirmation, and Morticia stared you down while licking her lips. With one swift move, Larissa switched positions with you.

“Kneel, sweet slut…” Larissa purred, “Baby, lock the door, would you…?”

You dropped to your knees without a second thought, ready to to anything for these two women. Larissa smirked at your obedience.

“Of course, Mon Amour…” Morticia purred, locking the door and then returning to the two of you.

Larissa then hiked her dress up for you, revealing her black, lace knickers and milt white thighs. You thought you’d combust right there.

“Like something you see…?” Larissa chuckled.

Before you could respond, Morticia had wiggled herself in between your legs. You looked at her with a confused look as she hiked up your own dress. At that, Larissa’s hand firmly grabbed your chin, guiding you to look back up at the blonde.

“Be a good slut and eat me out, while Morticia plays with you…” Larissa wickedly purred.

Your mouth went dry at Larissa’s words and you speechlessly nodded, swiftly removing the blondes knickers, and attaching your mouth to her folds. Larissa’s hips eagerly bucked into your face as you lapped away at her folds.

“Fuck—! Just like that, sweet slut…!” Larissa moaned out, as her hand snaked into your hair and pushed your face impossibly closer to her throbbing cunt.

At the feeling of Morticia moving your own knickers to the side, you tensed up in anticipation. And God, when you felt her hot mouth attach to your clit…

Your entire body spasmed as you cried out in pleasure. Larissa chuckled at your reaction.

“We got a sensitive one, baby…” Larissa breathily moaned, your tongue still working her aching pussy.

“Hmmm, I love them sensitive…” Morticia wickedly purred, “love making them squirm…”

And boy did that woman make you squirm…

Morticia edged you over and over again as you brought Larissa over the edge. Larissa cried out as she came undone on your tongue, her hand helping your hair tightly and making you groan out in pleasure as well.

Once Larissa had regained her composure fairly well, Morticia released your puffy clit with a pop! and she stood back up next to the blonde. Now both women were staring down at the needy sex puddle of a mess, you. You whined lightly as you stared up at the two goddesses.

“Whine one more time, sweet slut, and this night will get a worlds harder for you…” Larissa lustfully growled.

Your breath hitched at Larissa’s shift in tone. At that, Morticia whispered something in the blonde's ear. Larissa immediately agreed with the raven haired goddess. Morticia then came over to you and scooped you up. You yelped in response, but went quickly went quiet as she sat down on the chair next to fireplace and had you leaned over her lap. Your dress was quickly discarded, leaving you in your undergarments.

And then you felt it… Smack! Her hand landing firmly on your ass. You cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“It’ll only get worse for you, slut, if you continue to make sounds…” Morticia husked in your ear.

Fuck, were you in for a long night…

~~~

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delicatenightfury · 2 years

Text

"They don't know her like I do."

2022 Month of Writing: Day 2

Pairing: Remy LeBeau x reader

Prompt:

Word Count: 1,059

Author's Note: please don't steal my work! you can choose to respond to the prompt as well, but don't steal my work

“Not bad, gumbo. Could use some work, but not bad for your first time around.”

Remy smirked, wiping the sweat off his shoulders with his towel.

“I’d say the same to you, mon ami. Considering I was going easy on you.”

Logan raised a brow.

“That right?” Remy simply shrugged, still smirking as he took a drink of water. “Guess we’ll have to go harder next time.”

Remy laughed. The two had just been through a training session in the Danger Room. Both had their own opinions about the other, not entirely positive either, so a sparring session was a great way to let loose some frustration on one another. The Professor had put in the rule of not using power. Logan had grumbled something along the lines of “taking the fun out of things.”

The two gathered their things and left the Danger Room, taking the elevator up to the main floor of the Institute. They didn’t talk, having done enough trash talking for the day during their spar. Logan glanced at Remy when he noticed that they were still walking together.

“Where are you headed?” he questioned.

“I’m meeting y/n in the kitchen,” Remy said. “We agreed on a quick bite after our session.”

Logan hummed, though it sounded a little more like a growl.

They stepped into the kitchen, finding y/n standing at the counter. She glanced over at them and smiled. Remy couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He walked toward her, wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“How ya doing, cher?” he asked.

“I’m all right.” Her voice was quiet. “I made you a snack.”

She waved her hand and a plate with a sandwich came floating toward them. Remy smiled.

“My favorite. Merci.”

“De rein.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek. Remy grabbed his plate from the air and the two went to sit down. y/n tended to like the window seat, so while she sat there, Remy pulled a chair close so he was still next to her. They ignored the looks from the others in the kitchen, used to them by now.

Remy reclined slightly in his chair, his hand lightly resting on y/n’s ankle. His fingers mindlessly rubbed against her skin in soothing circles. The contact made y/n smile. She turned her head out the window to look out over the grounds of the Institute.

It was a beautiful day. Just from the window, she could see students at the basketball court and in the gardens. In the distance, Beast was conducting a game of softball with some of the students. It was peaceful. She leaned to the side a little and spotted the school’s pool. She smiled again and looked at Remy.

Sensing her gaze, he looked back at her in question. She nodded outside toward the pool. Remy smiled and nodded back.

“Of course,” he said. “Wanna go get ready? I should put my dishes away.” She raised an eyebrow at him and at the same time, his plate lifted slightly in his hand. He chuckled and kept a firm grip on it. “I’ve got it, cher. You went through the trouble of making me something. Can’t have my girl doing everything for me, it’d make me lazy. Let Remy put it away at least. ”

y/n smiled. She kissed his cheek again. His red eyes followed her form until it was out of the room. He stood up a moment later and went to the sink to clean his plate.

“She just seems too introverted,” he suddenly heard behind him.

“Right? She doesn’t talk. Like ever.”

Remy had almost forgotten that there were others in the kitchen with them. Kitty, Kurt, and Rogue had been sitting at the table, eating their own snack when he had come in.

“I mean, everyone’s a little shy when they get here,” Rogue said.

“But she’s been here for almost two months!” Kitty exclaimed. She never really did a good job of keeping her voice down.

“She’s right. y/n came here the same time Gambit did,” Kurt said, “but it seems like we know pretty much nothing about her!”

Their comments almost made him smile. They were ones he had heard many times before. y/n came off as a very quiet, almost introverted person when it came to other people. But he had the great joy of knowing the real her. Remy found it amusing. The two of them had both heard the comments. At first, it had been frustrating, but after a while, comments like that just tended to bounce off them without care.

Remy put his dish away and walked toward the hall. Several yards down, he found Logan leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He was sure Logan would have gone off to his room after grabbing some food and a drink.

“Everything all right, mon ami?” Remy asked, approaching him.

Logan glanced at Remy for a moment before nodding back toward the kitchen.

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Pardon?”

“The comments about y/n.”

Remy shrugged.

“It’s nothing we haven’t heard before.” Logan looked at him in confusion. Remy motioned for Logan to walk with him so they could head upstairs. “I’ve known y/n for a long time. They don’t know her like I do.”

“What do you mean?”

“It takes a little bit of time before she gets used to and trusts people. Took her a while to get comfortable around me, but she came around. With so many new people and a new place, she’s taking a little while to adjust.” He smiled, coming to a stop in front of his door. “In other words, I know that she doesn’t shut up.”

The door then opened and y/n stood on the other side, wearing a pretty coverup that Remy had bought her last summer. She had a wide smile on her face.

“Come on!” she said. Remy almost laughed at Logan’s surprised expression. The man had likely never heard her sound that excited before. It was then that she noticed that Logan was standing there. “Oh, hi Logan!”

Remy did laugh at that - Logan looked surprised.

“If you’ll excuse me, my clawed friend, I believe I owe my girl a swim.”

#month of writing #writing prompt #remy lebeau #remy Lebeau x reader #gambit #gambit x reader #x-men #xmen #x reader

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zerozeroren · 11 months

Text

Bbs on an adventure! :3

The gist of the pokemon au (after playing a single game) under the cut

This au turns out a lot more Tony-centric, actually XD it's his character journey more than Sophie's

The two of them meet in a Minor League fighting type gym. Sophie's there as a regular challenger getting ready for the proper Gym Challenge, she had just embarked on her journey. Tony is a trainer in the gym, aka one of the guys Sophie has to take down before challenging the gym leader. She can't help but notice him immediately: every single gym trainer she's ever met boasts a chipper overexcited attitude, but Tony gives off a strong "I hate every second of me being here" aura. He clearly goes through the motions in challenging her, and seems almost afraid of his own pokémon. Fighting type does not suit him, especially with the fact that the gym itself and the gym leader especially play it off extremely macho and toxically masculine, and Tony sticks out like a sore thumb. Sophie actually feels bad for him. Her and Mr. Mime put on a little funny pantomime for Tony, to which he cracks a smile, and Sophie thinks that it's nice.

Sophie quickly deals with him, though, as well as the rest of her competition (given that her ace is a fairy type) and fully intends to move on with her day. But she can't get this encounter out of her head, so after the challenge Sophie asks some other trainers about Tony, and they tell her where he usually has his lunch.

She meets him there and they have a long conversation about how Tony's stuck in the gym because it's a family business, the gym leader is his dad, and his own """ace""" Machamp is his grandfather's. He also slips and accidentally mentions that he secretly has some other mons, not fighting types, that he likes to spend his time with when nobody's looking, and Sophie immediately challenges him to a battle with them. He's hesitant at first, but then agrees, and the match between them is the tightest most exiting one he's ever had. Turns out that it's completely different to battle alongside pokemon he formed a genuine connection with.

Sophie suggests she'd steal Tony away from what is clearly stifling him. There are other people who'd happily take the place he hates being stuck in, and he clearly needs an adventure to shake him out of his depressive state. She just started the journey herself: they can take on the Gym Challenge together and see where it takes them. Tony doesn't know what to do: his legacy and sense of duty weigh on him heavily but he just can't with it all anymore. Dreading every new day became so much it is too hard to handle. And here comes this absolutely random person who suddenly wants to land him a hand. He is confused and doesn't know what to think or how to feel. Sophie wants to give him space to think things through and tells him she'll be waiting for him in the same place tomorrow, and if he doesn't show up by a certain hour, she'll know he decided not to go, and will go her own way as if they've never met. He agrees, and they part ways.

Queue in that scene from The Hobbit where Bilbo runs uphill joyfully yelling "I'm going on an adventure!"

And for Sophie, she decided to manic pixie dream girl Tony out of his situation because she had been in a very similar situation herself. Her parents (in this au both Sophie and Tony have completely different parents and family situations BTW, nothing like OG Attitudes) were really pushy about her interest in Pokemon and Pokemon battles and wanted her to have "a real job" someday, so they made her study and study everything hard and boring, and their position was always this disingenuous kind of "do anything you want once you graduate but until you do you owe this to yourself (read: us)". So Sophie took them up on their words, graduated, took her savings and immediately went away to take part in the Gym Challenge. When she met Tony she saw a lot of her own struggles in him and wanted to help him because nobody did the same for her. She knows how scary it is to go through such a change all alone.

The rest of this au is simply the two of them doing the gym challenge together, camping in the wilderness, having little adventures, catching and playing with pokemon and bonding (falling in love too, ofc😈)

#my art stuff #attitudes #sophie brannt #sophie #tony #tony leventini #pokemon au #pokesoph #sophietony #I don't really like how the pic turned out but I'm sick so I did what I can #generally not in a creative mood recently with all the everything going on in my life rn

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koolkat9 · 1 year

Note

👀

AU Ask Game

ACE Family School AU

Arthur is a middle school English teacher. Matthew and Alfred, twin brothers and foster kids are both in his class. But Alfred is a troublesome student, always talking, not handing things in and overall is distracted and is a distraction to his classmates. He's on the verge of failing. Arthur tries everything, opening the door for Al to ask for help, punishing Alfred for his poor behaviour, but Alfred doesn't respond to any of it. It gets to the point that he's going to have to call home.

But then Matthew, Alfred's twin comes up to Arthur at lunch begging Arthur to help Alfred.

"I can't do that lad unless he comes to me," Arthur says.

“B-But he’s…h-he’s going to be in so much trouble when Ms. Lynda (name possibly subject to change, it's just a place holder) finds out she’s going to…”

Matthew is on the verge of tears and Arthur isn't sure what to do. He was never good with crying children.

“Now, now Matthew,” Arthur chastises, “There is no need for tears. Tell your brother to come to me and I’ll try to help.”

“But he won’t listen to me,” Matthew suddenly yells, “Nobody will! A-And Alfred…He’s given up and I’m just…I’m scared.”

Arthur finally agrees to try harder to help Al and it seems to calm Matthew enough for him to head to lunch.

Monday rolls around and Arthur tries his last attempt to reach out to Al, asking him to stay after class. He lays everything out: his grades are slipping, he's a distraction in class, he better change his attitude and reach out for help if he needs or Arthur will have to call home.

Something flashes in Alfred’s eyes and Arthur feels his stomach jolt. But other than that, the boy’s posture remains defiant. “Go ahead,” Alfred taunts.

“Your brother is worried, you know,” Arthur says, going for a different tactic.

“He shouldn’t…He’s the perfect, successful one.”

Ah so that was what was wrong. “I offer help at the end of every class. If you’re struggling you should come to me with questions.”

“Why do you care?” Alfred bites back.

“Because I’m your teacher and it’s my job.” Alfred doesn't seem moved and Arthur’s patience is wearing dangerously thin. “Fine,” Arthur hisses, “I was trying to be nice, but if I hear a peep from you next class you’re getting a call home. Understood?”

Alfred just shrugs before running out of the room.

The next day Matthew comes in at lunch, Alfred trailing behind. “Mr. Kirkland, could we go over the meaning of today’s poem again?” Matthew asks, “I don’t think I got a good grasp on it.”

Arthur is confused by this. Matthew had done so well in his journal so why was he, but then Arthur meet Alfred’s eyes. The boy has his arms crossed, but he seems to have his attention set on Arthur. Arthur makes a little ‘Oh’ sound as all the pieces fell into place.

“Well…It’s rather simple once you know what to look for,” Arthur begins, pulling out his book of children’s poetry. “What sticks out to you. Alfred, maybe you could help your brother by pointing something out.”

Alfred complies with a huff and the three discuss the line Alfred chose. They go through the whole poem and Alfred offers some interesting readings that not even Arthur considered. But eventually the lunch bell rings and Arthur has to dismiss the two boys. He makes sure to compliment them, giving an extra compliment to Alfred who blushes slightly and runs off.

Francis, the French teacher and Arthur's rival/friend since elementary school sees all this and decides to tease Arthur a bit. “I know you said you were terrible with children, but I didn’t think you were that bad.”

“You’re losing your edge Bonnefoy. Now if you excuse me, I have a salad to get to.”

“Mon Dieu. With your cooking I’m surprised you can prepare anything. My offer is always there, let me take you out to lunch, just once.”

“Over my dead body,” Arthur growls, slamming his door closed.

So Arthur, Matthew and Alfred start regularly meeting at lunch or after school to "help Matthew." When the next test/assignment rolls around, Alfred does better than Arthur has ever seen.

Things are going a bit better for the boys now at least in Arthur's class, but the more time he spends with the boys, the more concerned he becomes for their home life. He starts to suspect they don't have support at home. If they do, it's not affective perhaps harmful given how anxious Matthew seemed about the idea of Arthur calling home. So Arthur decides to meet this guardian.

And he can immediately see why Alfred seemed so unwilling to do better. Ms. Lynda is distracted, not seeming to want to be there. The only time she actually looks lively is when Arthur let's slip about Alfred's grades being poor in the past. She seems much more aggressive assuring Arthur she'll "talk" to Alfred. But he assures her that's not necessary as his grades have greatly improved with help.

He learns Ms. Lynda sees Al as a problem child, always in trouble, distracted, not doing what he's supposed to. It kind of makes Arthur squirm because that's exactly how he felt about Al at first, but over the past couple months, he's gotten to know the boy and how capable he is. He just needed a little extra push and an environment who built him up instead of tearing him down.

At the end of the day, Matthew comes rushing into Arthur's office in tears.

“Alfred says he’s running away,” Matthew wails

“Whoa, Whoa slow down there Matthew,” Arthur says gently, handing the boy a tissue, “What’s wrong with Alfred?”

"He’s running away. We were about to walk home but…but he…he just said he wasn’t going home and th-then took off. He said it was better this way…Ms. Lynda is going to…”

“Shh,” Arthur hushes, “It’s going to be okay. I’ll call Ms. Lynda and tell her Alfred is with me, going over today’s lesson. You just go home and don’t worry about a thing.”

“O-Okay."

He probably legally had to contact the guardian, but he didn't exactly trust her and he probably should request a welfare check. But right now he had to find Alfred and make sure he was okay. He eventually finds Al at a nearby park on the swing set.

“May I join you?” Arthur asks.

Alfred throws him a glare, before picking up his speed, swinging higher and higher. Arthur let out a sigh. “Is this about the meeting?”

Alfred just kept pumping, ignoring the question completely.

“I know I had promised you I wouldn’t call if your grades started to improve, but I was concerned about Ms. Lynda’s attitude towards you two. I had to see it for myself.”

“Did you call her this time?” Alfred sneers.

“Yes, but she only thinks you’re getting some extra help.”

Alfred is still annoyed and jumps off the swing. But he didn't slow down enough and so he ends up falling and scrapping his knee. And he just starts sobbing, unable to hold back any more.

Arthur takes a seat beside him, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Alfred latches onto Arthur, hugging him tightly and sobbing into his side.

“Why…Why do you care so much?”

‘Because it’s my job,’ echoes at the front of Arthur’s mind. The mechanical response he had been using for the past couple weeks, but the more he watched Alfred open up, the less that response became true. “Because…” Arthur begins, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, “Because I’m worried about you. You’re a bright young man Alfred and you deserve an environment where you can thrive in.”

Arthur just lets Al cry for a bit, just letting him get it all out. This seemed to be coming for awhile. Once Al is a little calmer, Arthur proposes they get ice cream and Alfred immediately lights up.

but eventually they have to return to the school and Al has to go home.

“I don’t want to go,” Alfred murmurs.

Arthur doesn't really want to send Alfred back to that house either. “I’m sorry Alfred but…there isn’t much I can do for tonight. But you have my word, I will do everything I can to help you and your brother.”

Arthur can't sleep that night, too worried about the two boys and what will become of them after the check-in. That's when he starts considering something: he could adopt them. He tries to brush it off, but the thought won't leave him alone.

Alfred and Matt end up getting moved into a more supportive home, but amongst the shake up and the questioning my child protective services, Alfred's began to slip again, but Arthur isn't about to let him fall. He even tries to help him in other subjects. And Alfred passes.

Not long after, Arthur starts the adoption process. By winter of the following year, everything is place, so all that's really left is the trial period to see if Arthur's home is a good fit for the two boys.

When he goes to pick them up, he's nervous. Is this too soon? Will the boys even want him as their father? Well he didn't have to be their father, but would they even want him as their guardian?

The boys are delighted to see him when he comes to their new home. It's touching, but he has business to get down to. “Lads, we need to have a serious conversation.”

The twins turn to each other, brows furrowed.

“Now…I want you to know that you have a say in what happens going forward. I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way and I don’t want you to end up somewhere you don’t want to be.”

“Stop being cryptic Sir,” Alfred whines, “It’s winter break I’m not supposed to be analyzing things.”

Arthur chuckles lightly. “Forgive me Alfred, but what I’m trying to get at is…If you would like…Would you be interested in…Coming to live with me?”

“What?” The boys gasp, almost in unison.

“I…w-w-well…I’d like to adopt you. Both of you if you’ll–” Arthur is cut off by Alfred barreling into his stomach, almost knocking the unsuspecting Brit over. Matthew soon joins them, though he approaches them more gently.

“Do I still have to call you Mr. Kirkland?” Alfred suddenly asks.

Arthur laughed, shaking his head. “No, Arthur would do just fine.”

“How about Dad?” Matthew pipes up.

Arthur’s heart leaps into his throat “Whatever you want,” he chokes out, squeezing the two just a little bit tighter.

He takes the two home with him and finds Francis's car in the drive way. Francis has heard the news about the adoption and has decided to come over to cook a celebratory dinner since Arthur can't cook.

While the boys go look at their new rooms, Arthur and Francis are left alone in the kitchen.

“Arthur Kirkland, single father, never thought I’d see the day,” Francis chuckles as Arthur seats himself at the bar.

“Me neither.”

“It's not going to be easy–”

“Do you think I don’t know that?”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Francis tuts, “It’s not going to be easy, but I’m here for you if you need help.”

Arthur considers snapping at Francis that he doesn't need help, but he doesn’t because he can’t deny that he’s worried and he’ll need all the help he can get. Instead he says: “Thank you…I might take you up on that.”

Now this will hopefully be a fic I start on once my other long fics finish. And I already see a sequel possibly happening where Fruk gets together.

#hetalia #hws #au ask game #au asks #ace family middle school au #ace family #face family #kind of #hws england #hws america #hws canada #hws france #implied child neglect

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