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kombuuuu · 10 months

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Birthday Girl.

Earth42!Miles x Reader + Pavitr x Reader

“Happy Birthday, [Name].”

Headcanons and snippets C:

i want to wife him

E42!Miles: Purple Pavitr: Orange You: Pink Rio Morales: Blue

Miles Morales:

Would wake you up with breakfast in bed

if it’s a day where he’s called in for a job he’ll fight Aaron on getting the day off for you

although, the fight wouldn’t last long

Aaron likes you too, so with a sigh and a pinch of his nose bridge, he concides

letting Miles have the day off but only with a promise of working him to the bone the next day over

he rolls his eyes but the smirk on his face makes his uncle scoff a laugh

so with breakfast in hand, he’s gently shaking you awake

whispering your name with the promise of food

your sleepy voice greeting him makes the butterflies in his stomach awaken

“[Name].. Wake up, Chiquita, I have breakfast.”

“Food? Hi, Miles.”

He smiles at your slurred words, and you peak your head from under your covers. Pulling yourself to sit up.

There’s a spread of breakfasts foods in front of you, all your favourites.

“Miles..”

“Happy Birthday, Mami.”

“I’m gonna kiss you.”

“I won’t stop you.”

Spoils you with gifts

literally anything he could’ve possibly seen that you even might have liked

designer shoes to match with him (Nike Airs)

Matching jewellery as well, literally adores matching with you

gets you a chain with his name on it and one with yours for himself

whether you like silver or gold he gets you some premium shit

likes the look of white gold so that’s what he got himself

would do genuinely anything you want him 2

takes you to your fav nail tech to get you both done

he lets you choose the colours but makes sure to include purple with his own

after he takes you shopping,

you tell him off

he literally already bought you so much

knows what he’s doing tho

“Miles!”

“Aye, ma. C’mere.”

“We’re not going in there.”

“Yes we are.”

He settles his hands along your waist, turning you towards the boutique.

“Miles— It’s expensive in—,”

“I have an opening booked for us.”

His monotoned voice dragged in your ear, a shiver in its wake.

“Wha— C’mon!”

“Don’t pout at me, Mami. Might have to take you home.”

“I’m not pouting—“

“Hi.”

“Hello Mr.Morales, Right this way, Please.”

“Mr.Morales..?”

take you both to a boutique to get you clothes for the night

let’s you try on any dress you want

you try and pick the ones that don’t look too pricey

he catches on pretty quick and ends up picking the dresses for you to try himself

makes you show off for him

likes how you look in expensive shit and makes it known

“Damn, ma. Gonna have to buy that one for a later date..”

“Baby, no event is going to come up anytime soon that big enough for a dress like this.”

“I’m a patient man.”

ends up getting something that complements both your nails and the matching jewellery

also buys the matching shoes

he had a huge thing for seeing you in heels, but if you prefer flats he’ll make the workers find you something

gets a suit for himself

he’s been here before so they know his measurements.

gets a simple white blouse, with a dark grey set, a matching waist coat with it. And a black tie to go with the black buttons on the waist coat and cuffs.

doesn’t really bother with shoes

just figured he’s gonna wear his normal shit

when checking out, he makes sure to distract you with talk on what he plans for the night

adding tidbits that have both you and the store clerk blushing

the poor clerk just trying to ring you up

He leant over to whisper in your ear, rather loudly for someone “trying” to be discreet.

“Can’t wait to take you home, Chiquita. Seein’ you all dolled up for me? Jesus..”

“Oh my god.”

“That’ll be—“

“I got it.”

The clerk handed you the bags quickly before printing the receipt and going to rush off.

“Thank you, Have a nice day.”

Miles’ rumbling chuckle made your knees weaken.

“Yeah, we will.”

Takes you home to get ready,

touching you the whole time you do your make-up

whether it’d be a hand smoothing down your shoulders, massaging you while you worked

or his grip on the expanse of your waist

or even his nails raking down your back, watching the goose bumps rise as he did, infatuated

eventually you were both ready

and it was late

he took you to a high end restaurant, Electric Lemon it was called

and when you walked in greeted by his family, mingling with yours

you might have teared up a bit

“Chiquita? You ok?”

“Mmha..”

“If it’s too much we ca—“

“No, Miles, I love it. I love you—,”

You turned to him, the small smile gracing his lips a rare but gorgeous sight.

“This is perfect, thank you.”

“Love you too, Mi Cielo.”

“Oh (Name)! Feliz cumple! No es linda? Miles hizo increible!”

“Oh! [Name]! Happy Birthday! Isn’t this so nice? Miles did amazing!”

“Momma, Please—“

'Oh! Y Aaron era tan secreto sobre lo que era -'

“Oh! And Aaron was all secretive about what it was—,”

She leaned close to you, whispering “-así supe que toda fue para ti”

“,—so I knew it was for you.”

She smiled sweetly at you while you giggled back. Thanking her for coming to see you. She waved you off, walking you an Miles over to Aaron as she spoke.

“No, no me das gracias. Tu eres mi hija. Sería un crimen no venir.”

“No, Don’t thank me. You’re my daughter, it’d be a crime to not show up.”

You glanced over to Miles, seeing the sincerity behind his eyes when watching the two loves of his life interact so sweetly. You smiled back in turn.

He whisked you away from the party, after a while. Taking you to the more secluded parts of the rooftop. Completely devoid of life, he cradled your head to his and kissed you earnestly. Putting his Heart and Soul into loving you.

You giggled into his mouth, watching him smile back. You dragged your finger down the centre of his braids, something he’d come to love you doing. He pulled back from you, watching you smile up at him. His eyes shining with an endless love.

“Happy Birthday, [Name].”

—

he is so boyfriend coded

Pavitr Prabhakar:

will do similar to Miles, but not with breakfast in bed

will wake you up with flowers and kisses and an outfit he knew you liked set out for you

like i said in this, sleepy you makes him go insane

he’d let you sit with him a while whilst you woke up, and would smother you in love, whispering his praise to you

pulls you into his lap to look him in the eye while he confesses how much he loves you like it’s the first time all over again

“Thithli, you mean the world to me—,”

He massaged the flesh of your thighs, resting along his waist. He was flustered looking up to you, knowing you were there, with him, drove him farther head over heels.

“—You’re the love of my life, getting older with you is the greatest blessing of my life.”

“Pav.. baby..” You whined his name, waking up to such affections would be something you could never get used to.

“I’m so glad you exist with me, Shonu.”

You shoved you head into his neck, hiding your lovey-dovey smile from him.

“Love you, Pavitr..”

“Love you more, [Name].”

When you’ve woken up more

he coaxed you for a shower, taking care of you like the doting lover he is

pats you dry and helps you dress, then dresses himself

all while telling you how you make him whole, how you’re the reason he’s here and he’ll never be as happy as he is with you

it’s obsessive, but you’re just as bad

you tell him more in touches than in words, and he takes it in stride.

he’s come to know your love language, both of you sharing touch, but you take in the quality time trait as well

so he makes sure to drag the day out as long as he can

makes the morning slow, brings you his gifts and starts the food while you open them

he pets your cat and cooks, watching you out of the corner of his eye

He’d gotten you a set of bangles with small spiders engraved, crested in diamonds.

ones matching to the ones he wears

accompanied with a matching collar for your cat, which you smiled at

he’d also gotten you smaller, sentimental things likes references to your first dates, massage oils,

and things you’d said you liked in passing, that’d he’d remembered. because of course he had

he smiles when you shyly cover your mouth, looking down at the things he’d gifted with teary eyes

knowing how hard it is for you to accept gifts,

he doesn’t say anything, just turns the stove down and walks over to kiss you

“You okay, Jaanu?”

You looked up at him from the paper in your hands, nodding with a pout of your lips and a tremble in your voice.

“Yeah—, Yes, I’m good.”

He leant over to kiss your temple, smiling as he turned back to tend to the food, “Thank you, Pav.”

He glanced back over at you.

“My pleasure, Thithli.”

you lie in bed together for another two hours after you eat

just taking in each others prescience and letting the calming white noise of a distant show in the background soothe you

you hold him close, listening to his heart beat

when a song comes on he recognises and he sings to it softly, the contented sigh you let out is involuntary

he eventually gets you up again, since you’re already dressed, you feed your cat and leave

he walks you through the streets of his home, bringing you to his favourite spots

to feed the stray dogs with him, or to grip onto him and swing over the immense traffic

“Pav, If I fall, I’m blaming you.”

“Thithli, you won’t fall. I promise.”

“Okay.. But if I do—“ He grabbed your waist and hoisted you against him, shooting a web to a high building and swinging you up. Using his bangles to create more momentum and fluidity with his swings.

“Pavitr Prabhakar! I’m going to kill you!”

“Kiss me? Doesn’t really sound like a threat..”

“I swear—“

His sweetened laugh interrupted your spiel, and you couldn’t even be mad.

he eventually leads you back to his house

where your friends and family (his included), are waiting for you.

They greet you in tandem, with a cute, fairly out of sync “Surprise!”

the furniture in his house had been pushed into the far corners and the tiles of his family’s large lounging area had been made into a make-shift dance floor,

everything else being decorated in a very honest sense

and if there was a ache in your chest for the love you’d felt then, no one but you would know

all your spidery friends were there as well— only making the evening even more special

festivities shown were upbeat and exciting and you hadn’t felt more of a community than you had at that moment

When a lull in the upbeat songs play, and a slower, more set tone starts through the speakers—, Pavitr cuts in, taking you from Hobie, who shoots him off with a wink.

He holds you close, starting a slow dancing sway with you.

“How’re you finding it, Shonu?”

The lights dancing in your eyes make you evermore pretty to him.

“It’s—.. Its beautiful Pav, I’m so happy,”

People had started to sway with you, keeping the middle of the floor clean for you and your lover.

“,Thank you.”

“Only the best for you, [Name].”

You’d swayed with him for another minute before the end of the song had approached. Him twirling you out and catching you in a dip whilst you laughed and went along with it.

He brought you up into a quick, cheesy kiss.

“How romantic.”

“Cause I love you.”

Your voice quietened. “Love you more, Spidey.”

He stared at you a moment longer, placing a kiss along your temple once more.

“Happy Birthday, [Name].”

—

FOR MY BDAY GIRL @juneberrie 🥳🥳‼️

and ty to my lovely translator 🫶 @kissmxcheek

(PUT ME IN A CELL 💥💥⬇️)

#miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #spiderverse x reader #miles x reader #pavitr my beloved #earth 42 miles morales x reader #atsv pavitr #pavitr x you #spiderverse pavitr #pavitr x reader #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr x y/n

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kika-writes · 1 month

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built like a wall - l.n

Warnings: Smut, 18+, blowjob, oral, name calling, praise kink, daddy kink, degradation kink, teasing, swearing, angst, humiliation, bullying (but make it 🔥hot🔥)

Pairing: Lando Norris x college!fem!reader

Summary: Y/N and Lando hate each other but Y/N can’t help and stare

“I can NOT with Mrs Ferner anymore,” your best friend, Ava, groaned as you both exited the classroom. “Agreed, she’s such a bitch,” you rolled your eyes, glad to finally be out of the hell-hole you were forced to call your science classroom. “Quite similar to you then, Y/L/N?” a voice leered into your ear. You don’t even to turn around to know who it was, his jeering remarks were something you found yourself hearing on the daily. “Nice one, Norris,” Ava scowled at the taller man. He acted as if he didn’t hear her, instead, pushing her away from you as he slid an arm around your shoulder. “Fuck off Lando,” you said, wriggling free of him and pulling on Ava’s hand. He laughed to himself as his friends crowded back round him. Fucking hell, you hated that you found him even the slightest bit attractive. “Y/N, Ava, this is for you,” a scrawny girl, maybe two years younger than you, ran upto you, pushing a cute little card into each of your hands. They were from one of your friends, Keira, who had just turned 17. She was throwing a pool party tomorrow.

You squealed, clapping your hands together as Ava shook you in excitement. “Oh my god, Y/N, we need outfits,” she said, eyes shining as she pictured many different combinations. As soon as the final bell went, you excitedly went to your favourite shop, and went to the beach section. “Oh my god, we should match,” Ava said, holding up two crop tops next to each other. “That would go with jeans,” you scrunched your nose, shaking your head as she put it down. “I’m thinking, something like this,” you held up a pale blue halter top and miniskirt. “That’s so cute, I think I’m gonna go for something like this,” Ava said, holding up a long gown-like piece of material. You ended up settling on a sage green bikini and mini skirt if you wanted to cover up, and Ava got a red one. “Let’s try them on,” you said, taking your best friend by the hand. You both clambered into the same changing stall, putting the bikini on.

You realised there wasn’t a mirror in the room, and it was outside, hung on the wall beside the stalls. U locking the door, Ava led you out, wearing her gown as you admired for slim fitting piece of clothing in your body. “If I were a boy, I’d totally smash,” Ava gawked at you, making your cheeks go red. “Fuck,” a voice said to your left, making you squeal and attempt to cover your body, before Ava shoved you in to the stall. “You’re a pervert, Norris,” she snapped, shutting the pair of you into the stall. “Fuck you, Ava,” he scowled back with a kick on the door. Neither of you replied. You were too shocked at the sudden appearance of him, and Ava was too pissed. “Lets get dressed,” Ava said finally, before leading you out of the stall, fully dressed and ready.

“Happy birthday, K!” you and Ava squealed simultaneously, hugging your friend as she smiled back at the pair of you. You handed her the gift bag as she grinned, complimenting your outfits as you returned them. “Have fun girls!” she waved as you walked into the pool area. However, as soon as you did, your eyes locked on Lando’s. His shock went straight to a smirk as he saw you in the halter top and miniskirt. “Fucking pedo,” you mouthed at him, rolling your eyes and walking;go the furthest deck-chair and laid your stuff down. You planned to sit and chat with Ava about some of the upcoming events you had planned for your own seventeenth birthday, maybe even have a dip on the pool. Your eyes roved over the people in around you, immediately seeing your friends, the twins, Zoe and Lottie. You waved them over as they sat on the edge of your chair, complimenting your outfit and hair. “You laughed, saying the same back as they giggled in their matching cherry red bikinis. You continued looking; a big mistake.

Your eyes immediately jumped to Lando - he was getting out of the pool - arms flexing as he levered himself up. His curly brown hair was damp and shining, the water droplets dripping off of his abs and biceps. He was wearing swimming trunks, they were purposefully as low as possible on his waist, his v line obvious, chain dangling on his bare chest. Oh what you’d give yo be those water drops….

Just then, his eyes locked with yours, making you blush bright red and look away. Shit. “Y/N?” Ava waved her hand in front of your face, “are you okay? You’re very red,”. You shook your head and reassured her you were fine, lookout back one more time to Lando. He had his back to you, the muscles flexing as he talked to one of the other boys. “Oh my god, have you guys seen Conor?” Lottie said dreamily, clutching at her heart necklace. You shook your head, maybe it wasn’t as deep as you made out for it to be. “Hun, Conor looks trash. Have you seen Archer?” Ava groaned. You ended up in the pool a few times, the party ending at 6pm. Because you and Keira were pretty close as friends, she let you and Ava stay at hers a little longer, along with Lando, Conor and Archer. “Hey Y/N,” Lando said, sounding as if your name was something sour. “Hi,” you said quietly - he was still shirtless, wearing a pair of beige shirts, the waistband of his boxers visible. You looked briefly down at his chest, the metal chain hanging on it, but he noticed. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he said, brushing his hand against your waist as he walked past you.

“What was that about?” Keira asked, raising an eyebrow but you shook your head. “Nothing, it’s fine,” you said quickly. She nodded slowly, definitely not believing you, but she let it slide. The entire time everyone was talking, you could feel Lando’s eyes on your, roving over your body. Oh yes, he was definitely staring. “I-Im gonna go outside for some air,” you said, hurrying out the room. “Y/N, sweetie, are you okay?” Ava said, frowning at you. You nodded quickly, before going sec sitting on the edge of the swimming pool. Your feet dangled in the water as you quietly looked around. Why did he do this to YOU? “Y/N,” a voice said, making you jump. You turned your head, already knowing who it was. “What do you want?” you said, turning to him. “Noticed you staring huh? See something you like?” he said, bending down so his lips were in line with your lips. His hand reached to your hair, fingers gently flowing through your Y/H/C locks.

This time, you didn’t punch him or push him away, instead, letting him to do it. “I asked you a question,” he snapped as you squealed, feeling as his hand tightened on your hair. “What were you looking at, Y/N?” he repeated. “Y-you,” you stuttered, still shocked at his sudden movement. “What about me, huh?” he said, eyes moving from yours to your lips. They were shaking slightly, saying you weren’t scared would be a lie. “Like what you see?” he cooed. A sudden burst of retaliation hit you as you leaned away. “You’re built like a wall, as if,” you scoffed.

Big mistake. In an instant, he had his hand round your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leaned ever closer. “A wall, huh?” he snapped, narrowing his eyes at you. You didn’t say anything, it sounded like w rhetorical question. “Dumb bitch,” he laughed spitefully. Turning around, he shut the door, flicking the lock as you gulped. He wasn’t gonna but you, was he? Of course not. “Let me teach you a lesson, sweetheart,” he said, emphasising the last word sarcastically. “I’m gonna ask you again, Y/N,” he whispered to you, removing his belt. You weren’t gonna give in, though. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want this. His dick sprang free of his boxers; it was much larger than you thought it would be, 6 inches at least. Lando placed his hand on the back of your neck, brushing your hair back before he moved your head into place, positioning it. With his other hand on the base of his cock, he pushed into your mouth. Your eyes widened at the size, your hand wrapping over his as you pushed slightly back, showing it was too much. “Don’t care, Y/N,” he said, grabbing your wrist as you whines against him.

His tip was pressed against the back of your throat, almost as if was letting you adjust - and just when you felt like your mouth was gonna explode, he pulled out, your small coughs and splutters filling the air. “You’re pathetic,” he jeered, lifting your chin back to his cock, jumping it slowly with your salvia before placing the tip in to your mouth. You sucked slowly as you looked up, meeting eyes with him. “What were you staring at, Y/N?” he smirked for the third time. You whined again his cock, how off he expect you to answer when he’s in your mouth. He pushed your head further, your small gagging sound against his thigh vibrating through his body. Tears began to form in your eyes from how hard he was pushing you, Lando’s cheeks flushed red with pleasure. “Tell me, Y/N,” he pulled you off suddenly as you gasped for air, your cheeks the same shade as his. “Tell me,” Lando spat warning oh, shaking you slightly.

“You,” you coughed. “What about me?” he asked. “Your body. You’re abs. You’re hot,” you whimpered, half-scared, half-enjoying this encounter? He nodded with approval, guiding you back to cock. He was less rough, instead, bobbing your head up and down on the tip only, guiding your small hand to the base and pushing it up and down. “Good girl,” he cooed, stroking your hair as he watched your movements. Lando threw his head back as he felt his high coming, he would be lying if it said it was from the actual oral. Seeing the girl he’d never truly hated, instead, maybe disliked, on her knees for him, sucking his cock? It would drive any man feral. “That’s it sweetheart,” he continued, “what would you friends think, huh? If they saw you on your knees like a little slut,”. You gagged again, pushing more of him into your mouth. There was something about the way he gasped and his eyes rolled at your bold move.

He pushed your head back to signal he was about to release, but instead, you did something that surprised him. You pushed further, feeling him explode in the back of your throat as he gasped, stumbling slightly as he held your head in place. “Y/N…” he groaned, his cum dropping from your lips as he pushed you back harder. “Fucking hell,” he said, eyes glazed as he knelt down on his knees. He wronged the cum and salvia off of his cock with his fingers, putting his clothes back on as he watched you, still on your knees, cum on your chin. “Fuck, how are you so good at giving head? Slut,” he said, but you knew he didn’t mean it spitefully. “Come back inside after, it’ll make it less suspicious,” Lando mumbled, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Okay,” you blinked, wiping your face. “Look forward to next time,” you added, making his jaw drop.

#lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris

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lewisvinga · 3 months

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the other woman. | charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary: after his engagement party, y/n realizes that she will always be the other woman..

warnings; mentions of cheating, sex, modern family reference

word count; 1.2 k

note; this song has been stuck in my head

‘born to die’ series masterlist !

f1 masterlist !

Y/n couldn’t believe what she had just read with her own eyes. She reread the invitation again in hopes she had misread it.

You’ve been invited to celebrate the engagement of Charles and Alexandra.

She felt sick to her stomach. She felt like she could just throw up. Lando, a close friend of hers, noticed the look on her face. “What’s wrong? You jealous?” He asks in a teasing tone.

“No!” She exclaims, accidentally saying it in a loud tone. “I-I just don’t feel good.” She lied. She quickly hands him the invite with a smile on her face. “I’m happy for them.”

“‘Bout time Charles proposed to her!” The Brit exclaims with a loud laugh, not noticing how tense she became.

Y/n lets out a laugh at some stupid comment Charles made at the sitcom playing on the TV in front of them. They were both underneath her covers, him in just boxers and her in a plain t-shirt.

After spending hours appreciating each other's bodies and Charles seemingly making love to her, they were still restless. Being restless was just a call to watch sitcoms together.

“C’mon, chérie, you’re telling me that Jay managed to get Gloria?” He asks in a shocked tone, watching a scene of the Modern Family characters.

“C’mon, look at those baby blue eyes!” She exclaims in a teasing tone. He playfully rolls his eyes, pulling her closer. She rested her cheek against his naked chest as a comfortable silence fell upon them while they watched the sitcom.

Y/n opens her mouth to say something when Charles’’ phone began to ring. He checks the caller's I.D. and lets out a quiet string of curses. Alexandra, his girlfriend, was calling. He was quick to get up and get dressed. “I have to go, chérie.” He quietly says.

She sits up in disappointment. A pout adorned her lips as she watched him pull on his pants. “You told me you were going to break up with her last week, Cha.” She mumbles.

“It’s complicated.”

“We’ve been sleeping together for weeks?”

“I’m trying, I promise. It’s just complicated.” Charles lets out a sigh as he pulls his polo over his head. He leans over to press a kiss against Y/n’s forehead. “You’re my girl, you know that. Don’t you?”

She glances up at him with a shy smile and nods. “Yeah, ‘m your girl.” She quietly responds, shifting around on the bed to sit up more comfortably. “Wanna come over this Saturday?”

“Can’t, I have an event with Alexandra and Arthur.” His response made her smile immediately drop and her stomach sink.

“Oh.”

“I’ll see when I’m free, okay?” Charles says with a smile. He leaves one last kiss against her lips before grabbing the rest of his belongings. “See you later, chérie.”

“Bye, Cha.”

“Hello? Earth to Y/n?” Lando exclaims as he waves his hands over her face. She glances up at him, his loud voice pulling her from one of the last memories with Charles. “Whatcha’ thinking about? You zoned out after I asked if you were going.” He asks with a laugh.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy.” Y/n nervously laughs, glancing at the white and gold invitation in her hand. “I mean, Charles is one of my closest friends. It’d be rude not to go. Of course, I’m going.” She responds a bitterness laced in her tone that the Brit fortunately didn’t notice.

“I think a lot of the others will go too! It’ll be so fun! I can’t believe it.” Lando seemed excited to see Charles finally engaged. Very much the opposite to Y/n who kept her eyes to the ground with a feeling of remorse filling her mind.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Y/n didn't know what she was doing as Lando parked his McLaren at the venue for the celebration. She felt sick as she clutched on the black Chanel Kelly bag Charles had gifted her for her birthday. Even the red mid-length Dior gown she wore was gifted by the Monegasque. All of her nice and luxurious things were gifted by him.

The sick feeling became worse as she entered the venue alongside Lando. The venue was decorated in a way that made it seem more heavenly. A large framed picture of Charles and Alexandra stood right at the entrance next to a white floral arch.

"Charles and Alexandra, the newly engaged couple. Cheers to forever!"

Lando read out loud the cursive writing underneath the picture. "Would you look at that!" He laughs, making fun of his fellow driver. He glances back at Y/n, noting her tense posture. "What's been up with you?" He asks, his tone filled with nothing but concern for his close friend. "Is it a boy?"

"It's complicated," Y/n replies, ignoring his confused stare as she makes her way past the picture. "Let's just greet Charles and Alex and then find seats."

They walked further into the venue where a couple of long decorated dining tables sat. There was a large space in the middle where Charles and Alexandra stood as guests greeted and congratulated them. Y/n visibly gulps as Lando dragged her over to the couple.

"Charles!" Lando loudly exclaims, causing the Ferrari driver to turn around with a wide smile. "Congratulations!" He continues, happily wrapping his arms around him.

Y/n makes eye contact with Alexandra who gives her a sweet smile. Y/n smiles back, ignoring the guilt she felt. "Alex, congratulations." She quietly says, "I must say, that ring is gorgeous."

"Y/n! Thank you." Alexandra replies with a smile. "That bag is beautiful. I have the purple one and I love it!"

"Can never go wrong with a Chanel Kelly, right?" Y/n says with a chuckle as Lando interrupts her to talk to Alexandra. Which meant it left Y/n to face Charles. The Monegasque's eyes widened as he recognized her red Dior dress and Chanel bag.

"Y/n, you look spectacular." He quietly says, pulling her into a hug. Y/n hated how such words made her blush and want to giggle. Her heart skipped a beat as she pulled away, now noticing how he was wearing glasses.

"Glasses? I've always loved them on you."

Charles chuckles, taking a glance at her up and down. That glance only meant one thing, that she would be underneath him after the party. She hated being at his engagement party but still felt such a need to be with him.

"I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Always."

The night dragged on and Y/n kept her gaze on Charles and Alexandra. They seemed happy. Everyone seemed happy for them. Her heart hurt knowing that Charles wasn't hers officially.

She felt the same heartbroken feeling as she watched him quickly change back into his clothes late that night. She still was naked underneath the covers, trying to catch her breath but he was rushing to get back to his fiance.

Y/n lets out a deep sigh as she watches him leave after kissing the top of her head. Water filled her eyes, laying her head against her pillow. She felt stupid for ever thinking that Charles would officially be hers. After all, she was the other woman.

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one scenarios #f1 scenario #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc scenarios #charles leclerc imagine

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bradshawsbaby · 3 months

Text

Change of Plans

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Wife!Reader

Summary: You and Bob are supposed to be getting ready to attend the Navy Ball, but after being gone on a mission for three months, your husband has other plans.

Word Count: 4.8k

Author’s Note: Happy International Bob Floyd Fucks Month! Thanks for hosting, @attapullman!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), allusions to sex, innuendos, and fluff because I'm physically incapable of not writing fluff.

All the make-up in the world wasn’t going to hide this hickey.

Groaning in frustration, you rose from the stool at your vanity and leaned in closer to the mirror, dabbing delicately at the sensitive, bruised skin at the base of your throat, right along your collarbone. It felt as though you had already applied half your tube of concealer, and still the purplish mark was glaring back at you, mocking you with its prominence.

It was hopeless.

Maybe you could swap out the necklace you had been planning to wear tonight with a larger one from your jewelry box? Oh, but the one you had already chosen paired so perfectly with your dress. Would anyone believe you if you said you had walked into a kitchen cabinet? Highly unlikely.

“Damn you, Robert Floyd,” you muttered under your breath, futilely smudging another round of concealer on your skin with your beauty blender.

You certainly hadn’t been complaining when your husband had given you the love bites the night before, too swept up in pleasure and your desire for him to have had the forethought to consider the impact his mouth was going to have on your attire for tonight’s big event.

Bob had returned only two days earlier from a three-month mission—the longest he’d been gone since your wedding—and he had been absolutely insatiable since coming home. Not to say that the two of you didn’t enjoy a very healthy and robust sex life, but these past two days had been something else. You’d seen a side of your sweet, mild-mannered husband that thrilled you in its passionate desperation. Just yesterday, he’d held you as a very willing captive in bed all day long, his lips and tongue tracing every curve and contour of your body, his mouth memorizing the taste of your skin.

Hence, the hickies.

At least the rest of them were scattered across your body in places no one else would find. It was just this pesky one on your neck.

Sighing softly, you took a small step backward and turned your head from side to side, surveying the work you’d done from different angles. From a distance, maybe people would think it was a birthmark? Or maybe if you wore your hair down, instead of swept back in the updo you currently had it pinned in, it would serve as a shield.

Or maybe you would just have to walk into the United States Navy Ball letting everyone know that Lieutenant Robert Floyd, the shy, meek WSO that so many people underestimated on a daily basis, enjoyed marking up his wife’s neck.

The Dagger Squad’s return had coincided with the Navy’s birthday, which meant that they had barely been home a couple days and already they were having to don their dress blues for the blowout birthday bash. Bob normally enjoyed attending the ball, but this time, he’d been looking for any excuse to get out of it.

“I just want to stay here with you,” he’d mumbled against your lips just that morning. “You’re the only one I want to be with right now.”

Maybe the hickies hadn’t been as innocuous as you thought. Maybe they had been a calculated attack on your husband’s part to convince you to pull the plug on your evening plans. The thought made you shake your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Just then, you heard Bob’s voice reverberating through your small bungalow, the sound of his footsteps growing closer as he approached the bedroom.

“Sweetheart, do you know where I put my cuff—”

His voice trailed off as soon as he entered the room, which made you glance over your shoulder to discern the reason why.

He was half dressed, clad in his blue dress pants and a crisp white button down shirt, sans the missing cufflinks. But he no longer seemed concerned about that as he stood staring at you, his blue eyes blown wide behind his glasses. He was drinking in the sight of you like a parched man in the desert.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out, his voice almost reverent.

“What?” you giggled softly, feeling your cheeks grow warm under the intensity of his gaze.

Bob just continued to stare, wordlessly appreciating you as his eyes raked you over from head to toe.

You turned back to your vanity mirror to figure out what it was that he found so mesmerizing. You’d been so fixated on hiding that hickey that you hadn’t even paid much attention to what the rest of you looked like.

Your hair and make-up were already done, the blush and lipstick you had chosen doing much to accentuate your features. You hadn’t wanted to get anything on your gown, so you were dressed only in your sheer silk stockings and the little chocolate-colored silk slip that you were going to be wearing underneath your dress. You had to admit that you did look quite good. And Bob always did love you in silk.

“Don’t get any ideas, Lieutenant,” you teased, batting your eyelashes over your shoulder as you leaned in closer to the mirror and carefully wiped at a small smudge of lipstick in the corner of your mouth.

“Oh, honey, do we have to go tonight?” Bob groaned, stepping further into the room and walking right up behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the vanity mirror as he rested his hands on your hips.

“Yes, we do,” you laughed, privately reveling in the feel of his large, warm hands pressed against you. “We told all our friends we would be there, and all your bosses are going to be there, too.”

“They know who I am,” he argued, ducking his head and pressing soft, languid kisses to your shoulder. “I think we’re well past the need for making good impressions.” His lips transferred from one shoulder to the other, leaving a trail of searing kisses in his wake.

“But it’s the Navy’s birthday,” you countered, trying not to waver in your resolve. “You love the Navy.” Your breath caught slightly at the end of that last sentence, but you were hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“I love you more,” Bob murmured, his lips now moving towards your neck. “Besides,” he whispered against your ear, lightly nipping at your earlobe, “the Navy’s had almost 250 birthdays. It won’t mind if I miss one party.”

“What about my dress?” you sighed softly, letting your head loll back against his shoulder as his hands began roaming over your stomach and thighs, his kisses against your neck and shoulders becoming more insistent.

“You can save it for next year,” he chuckled lightly, his broad chest rumbling against your back. “As beautiful as I’m sure you’d look in it, I think you look even more beautiful out of it,” he added in a low voice, his massive hands sliding up your body until they were gently cupping your breasts.

“Bob,” you moaned out softly, trying to scold him even as your eyes fluttered closed from how good his touch felt. “We shouldn’t. We’re going to be late.”

Your husband didn’t respond with words this time, just hummed faintly against your skin while he nibbled gently along your jaw, the veins in his hands standing out against his fair skin as he began kneading and massaging your breasts through the thin material of your slip. You’d always loved his hands—after his beautiful eyes and his kind smile, they were one of your favorite features on him.

“You’re not playing fair,” you giggled breathily, your toes curling and an all too familiar heat pooling between your legs as his hands continued to caress your body, one remaining on your breast while the other glided down along your side, tenderly stroking your stockinged thigh.

“I need you, sweetheart,” he whispered, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling the scent of your perfume. It was his favorite. You always sent him with a bottle of it when he left on a mission or deployment so that he could spray it on his pillow and be reminded of you. When he arrived home two days ago after being gone for three whole months, the bottle was empty. “I missed you so much. Please.”

“Oh, Bobby,” you exhaled, reaching behind you and raking your fingers through his hair, mussing his neatly combed locks. “How could I ever say no to you?”

With that greenlight, Bob swiftly turned you in his arms so that you were facing him, your back to your vanity mirror as he crushed you against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you and his lips crashing against yours in a heated embrace.

Moaning delightedly into his mouth, you wrapped your arms around him, caressing the nape of his neck with your manicured fingers as his hands slid down your back until they were cupping your butt, pulling you even closer to him.

You felt the loss of him when he pulled back, your lips desperately chasing his even as he lifted those big hands of his to cradle your face, one thumb brushing across your bottom lip as he smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“What happened to us being late?” he joked, kissing the tip of your nose and then peppering your cheeks and jaw with tiny, barely-there kisses.

“My husband can be very persuasive,” you grinned, fisting your hands in the front of his dress shirt and turning your face upward, willing his lips to return to yours.

Bob chuckled at that, tenderly brushing a loose lock of hair out of your face. “Oh, sweetheart, I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. Just getting to hold you in my arms again. I never want to let you go,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours, just enough to send tingles racing up and down your spine, but not enough to satisfy the ache gnawing at you, deep inside. “Sit down,” he told you quietly, indicating your long-forgotten vanity stool with a short nod of his head.

Swollen lips still desperate for more of his kisses, you pouted slightly, but did as he said, slowly lowering yourself down onto the stool and staring up at your husband, wondering what was on his mind.

But then suddenly your tall, strong, handsome husband was sinking to his knees in front of you and all questions and coherent thoughts flew out of your mind.

“Honey,” he groaned out in a husky voice, burying his face in your lap and littering the tops of your thighs with hot, hungry kisses, his arms coming up to encircle your waist. “I love you. I love you so much,” he murmured, nudging the hem of your slip up slowly with his nose.

“I love you, too, Bobby,” you told him, running your fingers through his hair, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the naked adoration you felt in every little thing he did and said.

Head still resting in your lap, Bob’s arms slowly began to slide back down your body, his fingertips tracing a hot trail down your legs. He loved when you wore silk stockings, his hands running back and forth over the thin, sheer material with a sense of awe. Shifting back slightly, he pushed your slip up so that your stockinged thighs were more fully exposed to him. He gazed at them for a minute or two, as if just wanting to admire their beauty, and then bent his head down, planting one kiss after another on each thigh, all in a neat row. His movements were slow, unhurried, purposeful. He was taking his time worshiping your body and he wanted you to know it.

After several minutes of kissing your thighs, Bob turned his attention to your knees, pressing soft kisses to the insides of each of them. And as his lips danced across your skin, his hands slid up and down the backs of your calves, gently massaging as he went.

“Bobby,” you breathed out, your fingers continuing to run through his hair as you bit your bottom lip, your back arching as you felt your nipples harden and desire pool and pulse between your legs.

“Have I told you lately how much I love these thighs?” he asked, his eyebrows rising as his glance turned upward towards your face, his mouth still skimming the insides of your knees, slowly moving higher. “I could happily spend the rest of my life between these thighs,” he sighed, lightly biting down on the supple flesh.

“Bobby!” you giggled, feeling your skin grow warm from his praise and from how turned on it was making you.

He evidently didn’t want the hickey that you still hadn’t managed to conceal to feel lonely, because he suddenly began a passionate assault on your upper thighs, kissing and sucking and biting until you could see the small red marks appearing, even through your stockings.

Letting out a low moan of arousal, you found yourself tugging on his hair, pulling his head up and dragging his mouth towards yours. Bob happily obliged, his strong arms wrapping securely around your body as he kissed you with a newly unlocked fervor. His long, calloused fingers found purchase in your hair and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care that it would completely ruin the updo you’d spent an hour styling. Your vision had tunneled to only him. He was the only thing that mattered right now.

When the two of you finally pulled away for air, panting and desperately running your hands over each other’s bodies, you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of your lipstick smudged all over your husband’s face.

“I don’t know if it’s your color,” you teased, wiping your hand across his mouth and chin with an amused twinkle in your eye.

Bob laughed in response, but his blue eyes grew darker with want as he gazed at you, your skin flushed and hot to the touch, your own eyes wide and dark with desire, the lipstick practically rubbed clean off your lips.

“Oh, Bob,” you whimpered quietly, leaning forward and pressing your lips to his neck. Two could play at the game he was playing. You peppered kisses up and down the column of his throat, what was left of your lipstick leaving a trail of seduction in your wake. As you moved down towards his collarbone, you realized you had even left a smudge of red on the collar of his crisp white uniform shirt.

Bob’s breathing was growing heavier, more strained, and as you pressed your body closer to his, you could feel how hard he was for you. But it wasn’t until you began sucking softly on the pulse point just beneath his jaw that a tortured groan burst forth from his lips, his grip on your body tightening as he lifted you from the vanity stool and carried you over to the bed, carefully laying you down so that your head was resting against the pillows.

His glasses were slightly askew, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the tent in the front of his uniform pants standing at attention as he gazed down at you with open and unabashed adoration.

You found yourself squeezing your legs together in anticipation as you stared back, your breath catching in your throat when he climbed on top of you, his nose nudging yours as he pressed your foreheads together, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Those were the longest three months of my life,” he rasped, his voice hoarse from both arousal and emotion.

“I know,” you whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek with gentle fingertips. It had been torture waking up to an empty bed every day these past few months. “But it’s over now. We’re together again. I’m right here.”

Bob nodded, tracing the outline of your face as if trying to convince himself that it was true. “You’re right here,” he repeated, dropping a soft, sweet kiss on your lips. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “And I need you so badly.”

Without further preamble, he began kissing his way down your body, paying particular attention to the spot you’d spent the better part of twenty minutes trying to mask earlier. It seemed you would just have to rock the hickey at this point—well, that or invest in a lot of turtlenecks.

You giggled softly as he kissed down your stomach, his light pecks tickling you even through your slip. But the laughter died in your throat the second he began pushing the chocolate-brown fabric up around your waist, his skilled fingers dipping inside the waistband of your stockings and ever so slowly dragging them down your legs.

Moaning softly, you tucked your chin and lowered your gaze to watch his every movement, noting the way he was careful with everything he did, making sure not to tear the fragile silk as he slid it off you, letting the light material flutter to the bedroom floor as he then focused his attention on the small scrap of material still hiding you from him, the brown silk that matched your slip.

He was careful, calculated in his every movement. He was taking his time with you. He was finally home, finally back where he belonged, and he wasn’t going to take a second of it for granted.

“Bobby,” you gasped softly, your back arching slightly as he began kissing his way up your leg, starting at your ankle. He repeated the same process on your other leg, tormenting you with his languorous movements. You could feel yourself growing soaked with need, burying your manicured fingers in his hair and tugging slightly to signify your impatience.

Bob chuckled lowly against your skin in response, the feel of it causing goosebumps to rise on your legs. His teeth scraped lightly along your inner thigh, and then he was soothing it with gentle kisses. His fingers began ghosting along the waistband of your silk underwear, the dark wet patch at your center only growing as you felt him so close to where you needed him.

“You’re so wet for me,” Bob breathed out, his breath warm against your core as his eyes widened behind his BCGs. You found it endearing, the way he said it. He always said it as if it was the most shocking discovery in the world. As if, even after all this time, he still couldn’t believe that he got you this aroused.

“Yes,” you nodded, reaching down to lightly touch his cheek. “You always get me like this. I need you, Bob.”

Your words lit a fire inside him and all at once he was pressing his face against your clothed core, breathing in your scent and allowing his tongue to gently tease you. You could feel him smiling against you when you let out a gasp of surprise, your hips bucking slightly at the feel of his mouth on you.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing kisses to your hip as he firmly hooked his fingers inside the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs, tossing them so that they joined your abandoned stockings on the floor.

“Love you, love you,” you moaned as he pushed your legs open wider, settling himself comfortably on his stomach and getting to work.

Your husband’s tongue was a wondrous thing. The sweetest words dripped off it like honey, words that made you feel cherished and loved and known. It was a tongue that could take your breath away when he kissed you with it, those honeyed words still fresh in his mouth as he sought to communicate everything he couldn’t say with words alone. And it was a tongue that could make you fall apart and turn into a whimpering, writhing mess when he put it to use between your legs.

And right now, he was putting it to use.

“Bob! Oh, Bobby!” you cried out, drawing your knees up slightly as he licked a few firm stripes from your entrance up to that tiny bundle of nerves that he knew like the back of his hand. When you felt his hands come to rest on your hips, pressing them down into the mattress, you draped your hands over them, clinging to his fingers like an anchor.

He knew just what to do to get you going, just what to do to turn you on and make you feel like your body was singing. Half the time, you were convinced that he knew your body even better than you yourself did.

Right now, he was lazily tracing figure eights against you with his tongue, a warm-up for the intense pleasure that you knew was soon to follow. You continued to moan and whimper in pleasure, knowing that your husband loved it when he could hear how much you were enjoying yourself. Wanting to encourage him further, you removed one of your hands from his and pressed it against the back of his head, carding your fingers through his soft locks.

You were about to let out a noise of protest when he pulled back slightly, but it was quickly replaced with a sigh of gratification when he used the calloused pads of his fingers to spread you open, gathering your slick on his fingers and spreading it up and down. You could hear him sucking it into his mouth, a pleased hum rumbling from inside his chest, which only pushed you closer to the edge. This man was going to make you come and he had hardly even done anything yet.

“Taste so good, honey,” he mumbled against you, his midwestern drawl coming out thicker, which made you smile. That always happened when he was turned on.

Clearly he was starting to grow as impatient as you were because he dove back in, warm-ups forgotten, and wrapped his lips directly around your clit, sucking with all his might. When you cried out and arched up off the bed, he ran a soothing hand down your thigh, squeezing your flesh to keep you grounded. His glasses slid forward as he pressed his mouth more tightly to you, kissing and sucking and licking like his life depended on it.

You were completely incoherent at that point, reaching out to grip the bedsheets in white-knuckled fists as your husband brought you closer and closer to the brink of an orgasm. When he slipped two fingers inside you and began curling them gently, your mind went completely blank and you found yourself incapable of uttering any word other than his name.

It fell from your lips in an endless litany, your hips grinding against his mouth and your fingers digging sharply into his scalp. He didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, your actions seemed to spur him on further, his fingers increasing their pace as his lips and tongue continued their joint attack on your most sensitive parts.

From the way he was gasping and moaning against you, you knew that he was turned on, too. That was another thing you found so incredibly endearing and so unbelievably sexy about your husband—he loved going down on you. There had been times when he had gotten off from that alone. And he was unapologetic about it.

“Just love the way you taste, sweetheart,” he often told you, a sheepish smile on his face as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “I love making you feel that good.”

Glancing downward, trying so hard to catch your breath, you realized that Bob was grinding his hips against the bed as he continued to devour you, and it nearly made you climax right then and there.

Between his ruined shirt and his soon to be ruined pants, you were going to have to get his dress blues to the dry cleaner ASAP.

“B-Bobby, baby, I’m close,” you keened, your eyes squeezing shut as the sensations of pleasure washed over you and coursed through your veins. “So close.”

Bob didn’t reply, just doubled down on his efforts, slipping a third finger inside you and circling your core with his tongue, not relenting until he felt your thighs begin to shake in that telltale way he recognized so well.

The white hot coil that had been tightening deep inside you was nearly at its breaking point, your cries of pleasure turning into breathy pants as you felt yourself teetering right on the edge, hardly able to breathe as your legs tensed up, trapping your husband between your thighs, just like he’d wanted. Both of your hands found purchase in his hair, your legs draped over his shoulders and your body bucking upward off the bed.

With a loud sob of his name, your orgasm exploded around you, stars dancing in your vision and your entire body trembling as the aftershocks coursed through you.

Bob held onto you tightly through it all, gently removing his mouth and his fingers as you became too sensitive, whimpering softly.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he whispered soothingly, collapsing beside you and taking you into his arms. “I’m right here,” he cooed, pressing gentle, tender kisses to your cheek, his fogged-up glasses bumping against your temple.

“Oh, Bobby,” you sighed happily, curling up against his chest and letting him hold you.

The two of you laid there like that for several minutes, lost in the haze of the afterglow. You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to.

Then suddenly Bob was shifting slightly, moving to get out of bed, which had you clinging to him.

“Don’t get up,” you begged, kissing along his jawline. “Let’s just stay in bed.”

Bob chuckled quietly, adjusting his glasses. “What about the Navy Ball that you were so adamant about getting to?”

“I changed my mind,” you grinned, running your fingers over the buttons on his shirt. “Besides,” you added with a wink, “you ruined my hair.”

He laughed loudly at that, pulling you towards him and dropping a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be right back.” he promised you, giving you a few more quick pecks before climbing out of bed.

Sighing softly, you rolled onto your back and twirled a lock of hair that had come loose around your finger. You weren’t sure where your husband was going, but you realized he must have left his phone in another room when you suddenly heard his voice coming from the direction of the living room.

“Hey, Phoenix,” you heard him saying. Even from the bedroom, you could hear the blush in his voice, could imagine him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. It made you smile. “Change of plans. We’re not going to be able to make it tonight.”

There was silence for a moment, and you could imagine his frontseater teasingly giving him hell for ditching when the rest of the squad was being forced to attend after just getting back home. You laughed softly.

“Yeah, tell everyone I’m sorry,” he replied, his voice getting closer. You sat up slightly when you heard Bob tell Phoenix that he thought you were coming down with something.

It was quiet again as Phoenix must have been saying something, and then Bob was back in the room, standing beside the bed and grinning down at you. “Yeah, I think she’s got a fever or something. She’s just burning up,” he said, winking at you.

Giggling softly, you picked up a pillow and whacked him in the leg with it.

“I’ll tell her. Thanks, Phoenix. Have fun tonight,” Bob told her before hanging up with a chuckle. “Phoenix says she hopes you feel better.”

“Robert Floyd!” you laughed, whacking him again. This time, however, he caught the pillow in both hands and used it to pull you closer to him.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I needed to find a quick excuse,” he grinned, kissing you softly. Pulling back, he took the pillow from you and dropped it onto the bed, crawling back in beside you. “Besides, I really do think you’re burning up,” he teased, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“Oh, yeah, I do think I’m coming down with something for sure. I feel hot all over,” you smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I guess you’ll just have to stay in bed all night,” Bob mused, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “As your husband, I think it’s only right that I stay, too, to take care of you.”

“Mmm, yes, I think that sounds like a very wise plan indeed,” you nodded sagely. “But, you know, you might as well get comfortable and take off all these clothes,” you went on, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

“Excellent point, sweetheart,” he replied, the two of you finally dissolving into a fit of laughter as you helped him strip out of his uniform and throw it to the floor, joining the pile with your previously discarded clothing.

The two of you spent all of that evening, and most of the following morning, in bed. It was just what the doctor ordered.

And when Phoenix texted you the following afternoon to see how you were doing, you were pleased to tell her that you were feeling much better.

#international bob floyd fucks month #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

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postersofleon · 21 days

Text

Wrong Age For A Babysitter

It's winter break. You went to visit your parents after a long time of seeing them. To your surprise, a guy who is your age says he needs to babysit you.

content: fluff and smut

notes: afab fem!reader, mentions of drinking alcohol, reader drinks it with leon. leon and reader are in their twenties. cute sex. second point of view to not have y/n, before the events of raccoon city, no mentions of holiday just winter. non canon lore of leon; this was suppose to be published in december, but I forgot about this.

taglist: @argreion

It was the winter holiday after a long time studying for finals, you went home to your parents home to visit them. At least for a while, but unexpectedly, your parents weren't home. You took off your shoes before entering, the house was dark with very little light. "No even a voice mail." You muttered bitterly. Your eyes looked around to see what you'll respectful steal from your parents. Cookies. Hell yeah. You grabbed from the selection and took a bite. The silent house only heard were the munches of your teeth eating the cookie.

That's when you saw a note from your parents on the fridge.

Hi, we went to dinner with a couple of friends. Sorry we couldn't be with you.

Your eyes narrowed, "But couldn't call." You didn't mean to sound so damn bitter, but how much it hurt to call in. You grabbed a beer and cracked the can open. You steal more cookies from the tray, and your eyes found the thermostat and made it comfortable heat. You grabbed your beer and sat on the couch of the living room.

You attempted to find the remote, but nope. This was getting more and more annoying. You put the beer on the coffee table and put the cookies on top of the fizzy beer. Your hands patted down the couch over and over, your fingers were shoved inside the edges of the couch. You found pocket change and put in your pocket without thinking twice.

But the small lived silence stopped when you heard a knock. Your head snapped to turn to see who it could be. Was it those Christmas singers? No. There's was silence, and those people were loud. You carefully grabbed a cookie and ate a bit of it before walking towards the door.

You checked the peep hole and found a sandy blond guy in the other side. His cheeks were flushed from the cold. "Hi?" He began, "Um, I'm Leon. The babysitter." He knocked again.

Maybe it was a dumb action but you opened the door immediately. "Sorry, wrong house. I'm twenty." It wouldn't make sense why your parents would send a babysitter.

Leon shook his head, "Impossible." He took off his glove and pulled out a piece of paper that read your address. You ate another piece of your cookie before looking at the paper, "You got the wrong house." You knew so. You stepped a bit out of the comfort of your home, "Over there." Leon turned to see, "My neighbors have a daughter. You are probably her babysitter."

Leon shook his head, "I don't mess up my addresses." He exhaled deeply. His eyes almost intimidated you, he looked so damn determined, and with that you felt a bit of second hand embarrassment. You took another bite of your cookie, "Can I see some ID?" You asked him with small levels of impatience. Leon automatically gave you his ID.

What a handsome guy. "Leon Scott Kennedy." You read out his information, "Happy early birthday." You smiled politely at him as you continued to look at it.

You knew your parents were careful around you, but not to give you a babysitter at your age. "Listen," You began, "You seem a nice guy, but I don't need a babysitter. I just got out of college to enjoy the winter break."

Leon sighed softly, the exhale was that looked like that fog, "Listen, I don't break my promises," His blue eyes were focused, "If your parents put me as a twenty year olds babysitter. I'll do it."

"Fuck it. Fine." You pulled away to let him enter. You were being stupid and ignore all the possible red flags of this situation. Once Leon entered, he took off his snow boots and his coat. He turned to see the living room, hoping at least there was children to actually take care of, but it was only you and him.

"Wanna a beer?" You asked him with a tiny awkward smile.

Leon didn't drink beer in his babysitting job. But what is he gonna protect you from? "Yeah, that would be nice." He sat down on the couch and looked around. It was nice and toasty. You looked at him for a second before going to the kitchen and grabbing a beer. "Here ya go." She walked back and handed it to him.

He gladly accepted it. "Appreciate it."

You sat on the other side of the couch. You needed to see why this guy was going to be your babysitter. It was dumb. You are still convinced Leon got the wrong address, but for now, you will just stayed quiet and took a drink.

Your babysitter took a drink of his own beer.

Your head leaned on the couch to see Leon properly. It was unacceptable that this guy was hot. He looked cute and lovely, and unfortunately, it wasn't enough to flirt with him. Leon turned around to see you. He had a small smile, "I'm sorry. I know I seem like a red flag." He whispered.

Without a second, you nodded your head, "Yeah, it hard to think you are... y'know... normal?"

Leon chuckled softly, "I'm going to be a cop." You snorted a laugh, "That doesn't prove anything." A gentle tease.

Leon laughed a bit louder, "I guess you are right." He took a small drink of his beer. "But I wanted to become a cop to protect people. I grew up poor with my grandma after my parents died so..." Leon brushed his hair behind his ear. "I want to be good."

"It's a noble wish." You whispered softly.

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to be chosen to work for Raccoon City." Leon leaned on the couch as he looked at your eyes. He swallowed, "It's... it's a nice place to start." You nodded your head as you listened to him speak; he had a lovely voice.

You two took a drink. You leaned closer to him, "It's nice." You confirmed.

Leon sighed softly, his cheeks redden from the warm place, "Listen," Leon rubbed gently his wrist, "Maybe I was... too stubborn." He couldn't even look at your eyes from the simple idea of him being wrong. Thinking his stuff more clearly, Leon sighed again, "I was wrong. Maybe you are right."

A small laugh appeared from your lips, "No way? Really?" You finished your beer and placed it between your thighs. Leon scowled, "I, I know." But he didn't seem offended by it. Immediately, he laughed softly, "I'm sorry." A small pause between you two, Leon looked down your thighs.

"Sorry." He whispered again.

Yeah, your own thoughts were infected at the idea so quickly. It was amusing that you first thought this dork wasn't worth it until his eyes traveled down at your thighs.

"It's, um," You cleared your throat, "Fine." Your hands grabbed the can of beer and put it on the coffee table. Leon's cheeks were redder before leaning completely forward. His lips were still a bit cold, but your warm lips didn't mind it. Gently, Leon got on top of you. His knees were side to side of your thighs, his lips tasted awful with the beer and the coldness. Yet it didn't stop you. Your lips moved with his, your lips gently sucked on his, and slowly, your tongue was inside of his mouth.

Leon's hands grabbed your hips against his, pulling them ever so gently. Leon's hips gently began to hump against you. You dropped the kiss, "L-leon..." You mumbled weakly, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he continued to hump you.

His humps were desperately slowly in attempts to get his erection, and certainly, you began to feel the bulge. Leon looked at you shyly.

God, who is this guy looking shy after grinding against you? "Are you wet?" He asked you.

Your cheeks burned up, "Um, a bit," You admitted softly, "But, I'm..." Your eyes were finally full-on focused into Leon. His cheeks were red, his bulge continued to grind against you. What kind of one night stand is this?

"Need more?" Leon whispered softly.

You nodded. Leon nodded his head and slowly got between your legs. "May I?" Leon asked. You nodded your head, "Yeah." Leon pressed his nose against your crotch, gently licking you. You gasped very weakly. His hands grabbed your hips so gently, holding you tightly. Even though you had pants on, you could feel how his hot breath felt.

"I'm ready." You whispered softly. Leon looked up at you, "You sure?" You knew it was too fast, but it was definitely worth it already. Another nod.

Leon sat up and undid your jean's button and slid them down. His eyes were focused on your thighs and your face, darting them up and down, "I, okay." He took off his own jeans. Your cheeks burned even more when you saw his dick. Your hands covered your face, "Um, I-" You laughed nervously.

"Don't laugh at it." Leon faked a pout.

His hand gently rubbed his dick and pumped it gently, "It has feelings." Slowly, the tip brushed your clit, you chewed on your lip as it slowly went inside. "Oh, fuck..." You muttered so ever weakly. Leon groaned weakly, his hips gently pushed more and more until he was completely in. His blue eyes met yours for a second and laughed, "I, I-" His dick twitched happily, he leaned close and began to kiss you. So gently and kindly. You followed behind him. Small pecks of kisses that slowly, little by little grew.

You held him tightly, his hands caressed your cheeks, "Mm, I, I could ask you on a date..." Leon mumbled against your lips. His hips slowly began to move, small little thrusts, "I don't, I don't usually do this..." Leon groaned weakly, "In the first date-" Leon rested his head on your neck and his hips went faster.

His tongue licked your neck and bite on your skin. Trying to be quiet. You gasped weakly as you felt him enter you in and out. His hands gently grabbed your breasts through your shirt, squeezing them gently.

Another weak whine, "L-Leon..." Leon lifted your shirt and shoved his face between your breasts as he thrusted deeper and deeper. He kissed your breasts gently and sucked your nipples.

Was this really all the attempts to keep quiet? To make you feel that you'll be loud. He gently nibbled on them, he growled weakly as he thrusts went faster and faster. "I, I need to..." Leon mumbled softly.

He groaned weakly, trying to hold in his release. You pulled him away from your breasts, his lips were covered with drool- his eyes were empty. He looked so pretty. You leaned weakly towards him and kissed him. He whined weakly, "Fu-Fuck, fuck..." Leon's hands travel down your lines, holding your thighs.

You were making this harder and harder for Leon.

Leon kissed your jaw as he continued to groan. His thrusts went into a bit harsher pounding, "C'mon, c'mon..."

He needed your release more than ever.

You felt how his cock just twitched over and over. His length moved in and out, the desperation in the two of you grew. His fingers found your clit and rubbed it. He whined. He finally whined with those grunts, it was just a mix of him rubbing it over and over.

You cried weakly, "Leon!"

His thrusts turned a bit sloppier, Leon groaned louder as he focused only, only in your pleasure. Soon enough, his cum exploded inside of you. Leon cursed softly as he felt your cunt hold him, your warmth was so nice. Inviting. Leon held your face. Giving you more and more kisses around your cheeks and lips. You gasped softly, trying to catch your breath, "Leon..." You mumbled weakly.

Leon pulled out of you and his cum slide down. His heart fluttered. He should have worn a condom, but all he could do is look at your face.

Leon laughed softly again and kissed you over and over, "I'm- I'm sorry." He was even more lovable. You laughed weakly, "Stop, stop it." Leon's eyes were so bright, and it made your heart melt even more.

Your hand gently held his, sharing a small moment until you heard your parents open the door. You two attempted to fix each other up, it was fast, but the smell of sex ruined the lovely winter joy. You fixed Leon's hair, his cheeks were still red, and he was met with another kiss. "I owe you the date." Leon whispered softly. He caressed your cheek before kissing you again.

"Oh, hi," It was your dad, "Um, who is the guy?" You gently pulled away, "He's.. he's my boyfriend." Leon blushed heavily. Babysitting isn't as tough, but Leon did have to remember he accidentally forgot his job. "Um, well," Leon forced a smile, "Hi."

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re2 leon

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thesassypadawan · 7 days

Text

Birthday Boy (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: It’s your man’s birthday! A day filled with all the love, presents, and…special ‘treats’.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Birthday head and, as always… Hayden’s big, fat dick.

Notes: Happy Birthday, Hay! 💙🤍

And also Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

- It’s Hayden’s birthday! One of the few days during the year when you can spoil him totally rotten…and he can’t object or complain.

- You always make it into a big deal. Showering him with love and affection. Making his fav foods. Getting him so many thoughtful presents. Planning all sorts of little surprises and special ‘treats’…that you just so happen to enjoy too.

- The sound of your alarm fills the air, and your arm flies out from underneath the covers. Hand fumbling for your phone, trying to silence it before a moose starts to stir.

- Luckily, you’re successful and no harm was done. Because you can hear the soft snores echoing out from behind you.

- Yawning, you try to blink yourself awake. You had set it with the intention of getting up early enough to prepare him breakfast in bed. But having that deliciously warm body pressed up against and those strong arms wrapped around you…

- A sleepy smile spreads across your face and your eyes begin to close. Until you feel a very hard, very familiar something poke your backside. And suddenly you’re no longer going with the original plan. Instead you’re opting for the new, amazing one you just thought up.

- Somehow you not only manage to untangle yourself from Hay, but you’re also able to get him to lay on his back. From there you make quick work of removing the sheets and pulling down his sleep pants. Cock springing free and standing proud.

- Positioning yourself between his toned legs, lips hovering barely a few inches above his dick. You pause a moment, making sure he’s still asleep by whispering… “Oi, Big Dork; Leafs suck.”

- Nothing. Not an angry grumble or eyes cracking open to glare at you. Nothing.

- Boldly you kitten lick his fat tip, happily lapping up that first salty bead of pre. Before popping it into your mouth, rolling your tongue around and sucking gently. Teasing at and playing with his slit until more of that bittersweet goodness explodes across your taste buds.

- Moaning softly, the vibrations cause Hayden to shift a bit. But you chose to ignore this, taking more of him in. That slight, pleasant ache in your jaw making you pant through your nose, your own arousal spiking. Cunt clenching around nothing, dripping…soaking through your panties.

- Bobbing your head up and down, you set a steady pace. Lips and hand wrapped tightly around his impressive length, adding more friction as you pump. Teeth nipping and grazing at him lightly.

- You’re so caught up that you don’t hear the low groan, but you certainly feel the big hand coming to rest on the back of your head. Those long fingers lacing through your hair, tugging.

- With his cock still nice and warm in your mouth, you not so innocently gaze up at him. Hay’s blue eyes are blown so wide, a lazy smile on his face. “Happy Birthday to me,” he chuckles, voice raspy from sleep.

- Humming, you swallow him greedily. Head brushing and hitting the back of your throat. Trying your best to not choke, fighting the urge not to gag.

- “That’s it,” he grunts. Pulling harder, hips starting to slowly buck. “Keep Going.”

- Driven by his words and that wonderful burn on your scalp, you double your efforts. Picking up speed, you match his rhythm. Baring down, letting him slide deeper with each thrust. Squeezing and playing with his heavy balls.

- First you feel his dick twitch, then his thighs begin to tremble, and…

- Growling, Hayden shot his hot cum down your throat. Curses falling from his lips while you hungrily drink every last drop.

- Releasing him with a wet sounding pop, you eagerly crawl on top of and straddle him. “Happy Birthday, Hay!” You giggle, grinning and wiggling like crazy…some of his ‘frosting’ trickling down your chin. “Today it’s all about you and-”

- A squeak escapes you as your suddenly flipped over. Back pressed against the mattress, caged in by his arms. Tip pushing at your drenched core.

- “Thanks for the gift, angel,” the birthday boy smirks, hand slowly trailing down your hip. “I’ll open it right now.” And with one quick movement, tares off your panties.

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

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dellalyra · 4 months

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happy (late) birthday to gojo! i wonder how the family spent his birthday but also i wonder how the crew used to celebrate each other’s birthdays when they were younger!

𝟏𝟕/𝟑𝟔

𝑃𝑖𝑥𝑖𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑠：𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒，𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ.

𝐶𝑊：𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓，𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝑏𝑐 𝑜𝑏𝑣𝑠 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑛’𝑠 𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑑𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠， 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔，𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑙𝑚𝑘 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔♡︎

“Shoko wait - that’s salt! Don’t put salt in the damn cake.”

“Why not? It would be funny.” She shrugs.

“Imagine how insufferable he would be, Sho.” Suguru intervenes.

“Did you get the balloons?” You ask Suguru.

“Yeah, they’re up in your dorm room. He comes barging into mine too much so yours was the best option.”

“I still can’t believe he’s never had a real birthday, like with sweets and soda and balloons.” You shake your head.

“Yeah, pretty fucking depressing to only have ‘formal birthday celebrations’ with stuffy old farts for your whole life.” Shoko says, sucking on a lollipop.

“Part and parcel of being the heir to a big three family, I suppose.” Suguru shrugs, watching you beat eggs into the cake mixture.

“What did you guys get him?” You ask.

“I got him this enormous basket of candy - like imported stuff too.” Shoko says - making you wonder if she’s opened it to take the lollipop she’s currently eating.

“Mine is a surprise. His parents got him an Armani coat and Tom Ford ankle boots, and then the trip to Bali for the four of us.” Suguru interjects.

“Rich people shit.” The three of you say in unison.

At 9pm that night, after a trip to the arcade with Suguru serving as a distraction to Satoru - they approached the building, where Satoru say the common room lights quickly switch off in the distance. He didn’t really understand why the silhouettes of you and Shoko were crouching behind a door, but he figured it was probably some weird girl shit.

Opening the door - shouts of ‘surprise!’ blasted through the room from you and Shoko and Suguru behind him. Big blue balloons were decorating the room with a banner saying ‘happy 17th birthday Satoru!’ hung crookedly on the wall. Gojo’s jaw dropped open at the sight before him, wrapped boxes on the table with a huge assortment of snacks and pizza boxes stacked behind them. Suguru moved from behind him and stood beside you and Shoko as you all blew party poppers toward him, showering him in colourful paper confetti. You run up, hands behind your bag and tug his shoulder for him to lean down to your height as you place a sparkly blue paper party hat on his head, securing it around his chin with a pat to the cheek - the shiny colour of your eyes and lightly glossed lips made him feel more faint than any injury could.

Not that he has a crush on you, or anything. You’re just best friends.

“Happy birthday Satoru!” You chime, giggling and clapping your hands.

“What is all this?” He asks.

“Your birthday party, dolt.” Shoko pokes at him.

“After you said you had only had formal ‘birthday events’ with your clan we thought we’d give you a proper birthday.” Suguru smirks, ruffling his best friends hair.

“We know it’s not as fancy -” You begin.

“This is so fucking cool.” He breathes - poking at the balloons with awe.

It makes sense to you all. His awe, his delighted face and joy laced in his voice. This - fun, homely, relaxed, happy - vibe, this is far more Satoru than any sit down, six course formal meal could ever be.

You can’t help but admire him as he scans through all the sweets laid out on the table, throwing caramel popcorn to Suguru to catch in his mouth. The smile on his face and the warmth in his bright blue eyes emphasise the loose drape of his long limbs, body relaxed and oh-so-happy. You think that happy Satoru is the prettiest Satoru there is. If Satoru asked for the moon wrapped in a pretty box for his birthday, then that’s probably what you’d do.

Not that you’ve a crush on him, or anything. You’re just best friends.

Shoko pushes him to sit down, and dips under the table - pulling out a huge wicker basket and heaving it toward him.

“Here. A gift.” She nods.

He wastes no time in ripping the cellophane obstructing the view of inside off and squeals like a piglet when he sees the sheer mass of sugar in there. He launches himself at Shoko, who just lazily pats him on the shoulder, warning him of cavities and how she won’t pay for any dental care as a result.

Suguru leaves the room, coming back with a cardboard carrier box.

“Oi, Satoru - here’s your gifts from me. Before you open the box, open this first.” He says, languid smirk on his face.

Suguru hands him a tiny box, about the size of a matchbox. Satoru slides it open and pulls out the contents. The puzzled look on his face doesn’t explain the mystery further. You scoot closer, peaking at the contents. Inside, lay three tiny pairs of sunglasses.

“Suguru, I love the sentiment but - I’m not sure these’ll fit me bro.” Satoru says, holding a pair to his nose.

“Open the box.” Suguru says, sitting on the armchair that Shoko has perched herself on the arm off and stretching his arms behind his head.

Satoru does as he’s told, and folds open the lid of the carrier box. The tilt of his head when he looks inside gives nothing away, apart from his complete confusion.

The box seems to rustle, and the nature of your cursed energy calls you toward small life forces inside.

Satoru turns to you, the resident animal lover, and shows you the box.

Inside, are three tiny, fluffy, snow white gerbils.

You begin to coo over them, noticing how healthy and socialised they are (growing up with your technique lead to an innate ability to bond and observe animals, which may have caused your parents pet count to rise from 1 to 17).

Satoru just looks at Suguru.

“You’ve got to be fucking with me.” He says.

“Just thought you needed some familiar faces.” Suguru snorts.

“The sunglasses? Three white rodents? Really, Suguru?! You see Shrek once and decided I’m leader of the three blind mice?!” Satoru retorts.

Shoko is in hysterical laughter as you completely zone out, petting and holding the little menaces in your arms.

“Suguru - you’re an evil genius.” You shake your head.

“Highest of compliments.” He responds.

“Wait - Geto - how the fuck do you expect Satoru to look after three gerbils? He’s - like - he’s Satoru.” Shoko nods in the gerbils direction.

“A responsibility lesson.” Suguru shrugs.

“How do I look after gerbils?! I’m not ready to be a dad! What do they eat? Is steak okay? Or maybe pizza? Do they need to swim like a turtle?! Y/N - what do I do?! You’ll help me, won’t you?!” Satoru begins listing off what he feels he needs to know to care for them.

Like you could ever deny him anything - of course you would, especially when he asks with that pretty pout.

“Course I will, Satoru. You gotta name them.” You nod.

He thinks for a moment, before smirking that smirk that spells trouble every time.

“Isamu, Hiroto and Daiki.” He declares.

“Random, but okay. Not like… fluffy, or whiskers or something that’s more eh - pet name style?” Shoko questions.

“Nah, white haired rodents? I’m calling them after the Gojo elders.” He snorts, devilish smile on his face as you all decent into laughter.

After settling the gerbils into their cage (a gift, courtesy of Yaga), you sheepishly slide a box toward Satoru, it’s small and wrapped in polar bear print paper.

“Happy Birthday, Satoru.” You smile, blushing.

He rips open the box and immediately falters. His casual smirk replaced with an awestruck gape.

“Is this…?”

“Yeah.” You nod.

Inside the box, was a delicate silver bracelet - with a circular medal in the center engraved with all four of your initials and the day you all started at Jujutsu Tech.

“Fucking hell, you really had to show us up like that Y/N?” Shoko groans, knowing your gift was by far the most sentimental.

“I hope you like it. If you don’t I kept the receipt so we can return it for -” You turn to the birthday boy.

“I love it.” He says, lifting his head to look at you.

“You’re per- It’s perfect. I - Help me put it on?” Satoru quickly fixes his slip of the tongue which you luckily didn’t notice but had Shoko and Suguru snickering.

You smile, helping him clasp it around his wrist and clapping when it’s a perfect fit.

“Yay! I’m so happy you like it!” You giggle.

“I like it a lot.” He says, not looking at the bracelet.

“Happy birthday, papa!” Came a loud voice, accompanied by excessive bouncing on the bed as the birthday boy himself woke up.

“Papa!” Came a more slurred voice with a giggle, and a small smack to his cheek with a chubby fist.

Satoru opens his eyes, seeing his 5 year old son and 2 year old daughter sitting on him on the bed, and beside them the woman who brought them into the world - shining in the morning sun, looking at him with eyes full of forever.

“We made you waffles!” Akio shouts.

“Waffle!” Mirai nods.

“You did! I am so spoiled! Did you two do them all by yourselves?!” Satoru asks, plopping Mirai on his lap which Akio has just vacated.

“No, papa. We had help!” The boy runs around to you, asking you to tie up his shoulder length white hair.

“Well, c’mon then! I’ve been promised waffles!” He ushers the two of them out of the room as they run toward the kitchen.

He turns around in the bed, seeing you smiling at him.

“Happy birthday, ‘toru.” You say, cupping his cheek and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Every day feels like my birthday with you around, princess.” He smirks, rolling on top of you and kissing you back.

“Charmer.” You giggle.

“Is it working?” He asks.

“We’ve been married for 10 years and have two children together and have raised 2 others. It worked a long time ago. Truth be told, it worked even before I gave you this.” You say, fiddling with the silver bracelet on his wrist.

The jokingly fist bumps the air, even though he’s been fully aware your heart beats solely for him - and has done his you were 16.

“C’mon, handsome. Breakfast awaits along with a little surprise.” You say, lifting yourself off the bed as he does the same, standing and stretching and revealing a back of toned, strong muscles and biceps as he shakes out his fluffy hair.

“On second thought…” you smirk, biting your lip.

“Yeah? What’s that thought?” He smiles, wrapping an arm around you waist and kneading the peachy rise of your ass in his big hands, before sliding his hands up to your waist hidden under the fluffy robe you wore.

“That there might be another surprise for you tonight, and I have planned for the kids to have a sleepover.” You smile, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand before swirling your tongue around his index finger, batting your eyelashes up at his far taller frame.

“You expect me to go through a whole day waiting for a surprise after this little display?” He groans, pouting like he did when at 18 you told him he couldn’t have his birthday cake until his actual birthday.

You just smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before sauntering down the hall with an extra sway of your hips.

After a minute, he comes bouncing down the stairs and is greeted with the most incredible view.

Inside the kitchen, a now 21 year old Yuuji Itadori is wearing a floral apron and surrounded by plates of waffles and smiling.

“Happy birthday, Gojo-Sensei!” He says, before throwing his full strength muscular body at his old teacher.

“I didn’t know you were here! Thank, kid!” He smiles, ruffling Itadori’s hair.

“You made the waffles?” He asks.

From around the corner comes a chuckle and a giggle, as his daughter launches herself from her Uncle Soso’s arms and sprints toward her dad, ever the most loyal daddy’s girl.

“Papa’s day!” She squeals as she’s scooped up into her dad’s strong hold.

“Hello, cupcake. Were you playing with Uncle Soso?” He says, kissing her chubby cheeks as she nods, stroking his hair like her momma does.

“Happy birthday, Satoru.” Choso smiles, hugging him tight. Choso had really seen this family and said ‘yes, this one please.’ Actually, it was a two way street. You saw a sad, grieving man who loved as fiercely as you did and said ‘yes, this is my brother now.’

Itadori says when you or Gojo see a ‘stray’ it’s the epitome of the ‘you’re my friend now, we’re having soft tacos tonight’ TikTok sound.

“Thanks, Cho.” Satoru responds with a smile and a squeeze to the shoulder, almost forgetting he isn’t actually his brother-in-law.

The back door opens, and in comes a slightly snowy Shoko Ieiri, who catches his eye.

“Happy birthday, fuckwad.” She says, flicking him in the arm.

“Wow, so kind and gentle. Such a great godmother to set an incredible example.” He smiles, knowing that her greeting was actually the sign that Shoko truly loved him like a brother.

He knew why she’s been outside, she had followed the little pathway to the big tree where a black memorial plaque in a grove on the cottage’s surrounding land. You and him would go down there later.

She stick out her tongue at him and he laughs, rounding the corner to where the table lay.

Sat at the table was you, with your son on your lap - a diligent mama’s boy as you laughed with him, each holding a controller for your baby pink Switch as you raced in Mario Kart.

Beside you, standing up and holding an extortionately large jug of peach juice was his eldest. Megumi was shaking his head at whatever his little brother was saying and the hint of a smile could be seen in the upturned corner of his lips. He flicks his eyes up.

“Happy birthday, dad.” He says, and is immediately pulled into a bone crushing hug with kisses dotted across his face.

“My eldest! My firstborn! We sweet little man!” He cooed as the 21 year old man (only 3 inches shorter than his father, now fully grown) shoves and growls his way out of the intense affection.

“Nawh, let him have his cuddles ‘Gumi. He gets one day a year where he can annoy you without repercussions.” You laugh.

In the midst of the chaos, you and Akio slip away into the kitchen.

Itadori and Choso come in, and sit down followed by Shoko.

Gojo takes his normal seat beside your seat and pours a coffee with extra extra sugar.

Then a small chorus starts up, two small voices and one pretty one - soon turned into the whole room (even Megumi).

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday dear Papa/Dad/Gojo/‘Toru,

Happy birthday to you!”

followed by -

“Hip hip, hooray!”

Akio is carefully holding a stack of waffles, with a flickering candle reading ‘36’ on top and Mirai has paper plates in her hands, as you walk behind them - hands out just in case.

He takes the heavy plate from his son, grateful for his 5 year olds inheritance of his father’s physical strength and height, and blows out the candle, pressing a kiss to the crown of his son’s head.

“Thank you, my lil’ mochi.”

“Make a wish, papa!” Akio shouts.

“Papa wish!”

He looks at the table, wife perched on his lap and surrounded by family.

“No need.” He says, squeezing your thigh.

“Such a sap.” You say, burying your head in his neck.

Everyone tucks into their breakfast, and the sound of happy chatter is soon interrupted by an angry voice of a toddler who inherited her mother’s temper.

“Fuckwad!” Mirai shouted.

You all spin to look at her, and see she dropped a piece of her waffle only for it to be swept away by a fluffy grey cat.

“Shoko?” You ask.

“Yeah, that one was me.” She nods.

You all burst out laughing, before Megumi turns around and asks.

“Are we making it a tradition that the kids learn a new curse every family occasion, cos this is round two.”

“Hey! It's your birthday in two weeks, babe! How about dipshit for that one?“ Yuuji exclaims.

#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #dad!gojo #gojo imagine #gojo smut

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sometimesanalice · 1 day

Text

Make Me Your Masterpiece

Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)

(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)

You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.

They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.

You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.

“I think that’s-” you’d started.

“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.

The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes.

The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.

By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.

Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.

The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.

You’d been a goner right then and there.

And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.

As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.

Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.

He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.

Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.

You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”

It was the best first date you’d ever had.

For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.

You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.

You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.

Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.

You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting.

Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.

He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode.

You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.

Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.

You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.

Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.

“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”

You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.

It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.

Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.

“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”

He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth.

You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.

You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.

It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.

There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.

First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.

You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.

Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.

Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.

Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.

You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you.

After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.

“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.

He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”

Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.

You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.

Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.

You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.

He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”

“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.

You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.

His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.

“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”

You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.

The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.

“Where do you want me?”

“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.

His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, ��I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”

Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”

You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.

You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.

His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.

Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.

He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.

Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.

There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.

He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”

You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.

Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.

You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.

“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”

Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.

You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.

“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”

The answer is easy, “Yes.”

You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.

The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.

The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.

He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”

You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

“Bob”, you whine.

The camera clicks.

“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.” He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”

The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.

He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.

The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.

“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”

“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.

He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.

“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”

Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.

Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.

Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.

But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.

“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”

Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.

Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.

All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.

You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.

You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.

His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.

You needed more.

“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.

He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.

“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”

Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.

He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.

He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.

It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.

Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.

The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.

He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.

You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.

“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”

You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.

He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.

Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.

Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.

It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.

You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.

Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.

This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.

The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”

You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.

“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.

“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.

“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”

He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.

That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.

It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.

That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.

He gave you the sky and he made you his world.

Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!

A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd smut #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #robert bob floyd fic #bob x you #bob x reader

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writerinloves-blog · 7 months

Text

In the Gardens - Kit Tanthalos x Reader

Request? : Yes! I hope I've made justice to their request.

i was hoping you could write something with kit, like about her and the reader being in a secret relationship (bc of the times ofc) and queen sorsha finding out?

Word count: 5,015

It all began with jealousy.

When Jade started talking to Kit about a new friend she had made in the village, Kit couldn't admit it, but she felt a twinge of annoyance. Things took a turn for the worse when Jade started cutting short their training sessions to spend more time with this new girl. Jade was Kit's best friend, exclusively hers. Kit didn't even know this new girl, but she was convinced she must be annoying or something, although she couldn't pinpoint exactly what bothered her about her.

Kit was well aware that, as a princess, she had the power to make Jade train longer with her. However, she understood the moral implications of such an action, so she kept her feelings in check, quietly resenting this unknown girl without ever getting to know her.

Until one fateful day.

Kit found herself on the training grounds, waiting for Jade who was running late. Frustrated, Kit began practicing her moves on a wooden dummy. Lost in her training, she was jolted back to reality by a voice.

"Wow, you're really good," the voice remarked. Kit turned to see a stranger standing there, eyes filled with genuine admiration.

"Ah-ah- thank you," Kit managed to say, caught off guard. Her response elicited a warm smile from the stranger, a smile that Kit found genuinely sweet.

As Kit's mind slowly started working again, she realized she had never seen this person before. They stood there, in a silent understanding. Gathering her courage, Kit blurted out, "I'm Kit!" perhaps louder than she intended.

The stranger returned her smile, about to introduce themselves when a familiar voice interrupted them. Both Kit and the stranger turned to see Jade hurrying toward them, her face radiating excitement.

"You came!" Jade exclaimed, hugging the stranger tightly. Kit was utterly confused. "Do you guys know each other?" she asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

"Yeah, this is my new friend I was telling you about," Jade said, her smile wide, mirroring the one on the stranger's face.

Kit was most definitely not expecting that.

For two months, you attended almost every training session that Kit and Jade had. Despite Kit's initial attempts to deny it, she found herself enjoying your company, perhaps a little more than she should have. Knowing that you were observing her during training motivated her to push herself harder, and she felt a surge of pride every time you clapped for her victories over Jade.

When Jade's birthday finally arrived, the three of you had dinner in the castle, a request made by Kit. That night, at your suggestion, they all dressed semi-formally. Both Kit and Jade opted for semi-formal attire, eschewing dresses, a choice that made them burst into laughter when they saw each other

You arrived last, and upon seeing you, Kit froze in place. When you approached to greet her, after wishing Jade a happy birthday, Kit couldn't help but feel her heart racing. She was astounded by how beautiful you looked in your blue dress, adorned with ribbons in your hair. It was in that moment that Kit realized something had changed within her during this past month.

Throughout dinner, the three of you shared laughter and jokes, and every time you touched Kit's arm, she felt a jolt of electricity run through her. After the meal, you all decided to take a leisurely walk around the castle grounds to continue your conversation.

Sometime later, Ballentine approached Jade and asked for a moment, prompting Jade to bid her goodbyes and leave. This turn of events left Kit and you alone together.

"Maybe I should go too," you said in a soft tone.

"You could stay a little longer," Kit replied, her voice shy. You nodded with a sweet smile, and in that moment, as you continued your walk under the moonlit sky, Kit felt something stirring inside her, something that went beyond mere friendship.

You two fit perfectly. Eventually, you ended up in the garden, pausing to gaze at the stars. While you were awe-struck by the celestial display above, Kit's eyes were fixed solely on you. In her eyes, amidst the enchanting flowers and the moonlit night, you outshone everything else in the garden. Overwhelmed by her emotions, Kit could no longer contain her feelings.

"I think we have a problem," Kit blurted out hurriedly, causing worry to bubble inside you. "What? What is it?" you asked, concern etched on your face.

"Turns out that I don't hate you," Kit began, her words rushed. "At all... not one bit."

"I do not understand. What are you trying to say, Kit?" you replied in a hushed tone. Kit approached you, now standing directly in front of you.

"Turns out that I actually like you..." Kit confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I don't know what to do with all of this that I am feeling." With those words, she brushed her hand against yours, her touch tender. She then gently kissed your hand, leaving you both exhilarated and perplexed.

A whirlwind of emotions swirled inside you, rendering you momentarily speechless. Kit looked at you with anticipation, her brilliant blue eyes searching yours for a response. In that moment, you realized the depth of your feelings for the girl standing before you. Determination filled you, and you took a step closer, your hand caressing Kit's face. You wore a sweet smile, silently asking a question that hung between you.

Kit nodded in response, her own emotions mirrored in her eyes. You closed the gap between you, your lips meeting hers in a tender, electrifying kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away, and Kit responded by moving her hands to your face, pulling you closer. She couldn't believe what was transpiring, but in that moment, all she wanted was to feel you near.

After a few blissful seconds, you both pulled back, gasping for air, yet radiating joy. "I like you too, just in case you didn't get the memo," you teased, a playful tone in your voice.

Kit made an affirmative sound, a mix of contentment and amusement. "Good to know," she said before leaning in to kiss you once again, sealing the newfound connection between your hearts.

The next day, you didn't attend Kit and Jade's training session. However, Kit showed up wearing the ribbon that you had worn the previous night, wrapped around her wrist. Jade immediately noticed this, causing her to smile broadly.

"I thought you hated ribbons," Jade teased Kit.

Kit felt a wave of nervousness wash over her. "Yeah, I just thought this one was nice," she stammered, to which Jade playfully rolled her eyes.

"So, good to know that I'm officially the third wheel," Jade remarked, a smile on her face as she started preparing for the session.

This statement caught Kit off guard. "What? She told you?" Kit asked, excitement evident in her voice. Jade seized this moment of distraction to begin the session, leaving Kit caught off-guard.

"Of course she did," Jade replied, finishing her sentence. With one last dreamy smile, Kit started training too, the revelation of her newfound feelings adding an extra layer of motivation to her movements.

In the days that followed, a secret romance blossomed between you and Kit. It was a delicate dance of stolen glances and hidden touches, a love story meant to remain hidden from the world. Yet, the joy that radiated from both of you was undeniable.

Your clandestine meetings became precious moments, tucked away in the secluded corners of the castle gardens or in the quiet corridors of the palace. Every stolen kiss, every shared secret, felt like a treasure, something too beautiful and fragile to be exposed to the harsh light of day.

Despite the secrecy, your relationship was an anchor for both of you. In a world where duties and expectations weighed heavily on her shoulders, the love you shared became a sanctuary. Your laughter filled the empty spaces, and your whispered words of affection drowned out the noise of the world around you.

Kit was enraptured by the simple joy of stealing your ribbons whenever you wore one. To her, each ribbon became a tangible reminder of your presence, a way to feel connected even when you weren't near. When you questioned her about this habit, she looked into your eyes with sincerity.

"To feel you close when you aren't near," Kit confessed, her voice filled with vulnerability and affection. Those words hung in the air, encapsulating the depth of her feelings for you.

In the quiet nights when the moon bathed the castle grounds in its silvery glow, Kit often found herself marveling at the serendipity that had brought you into her life. She couldn't believe how fortunate she was to have you by her side, your laughter becoming the melody that filled her heart.

Six months had passed since the beginning of your relationship, a secret love that had flourished behind the castle's stone walls. One day, with Jade's assistance, you managed to sneak into the castle and found your way into Kit's room. There, in the soft glow of candlelight, you sat on her lap, your lips dancing together in sweet kisses, punctuated by soft giggles.

You peppered Kit's face with kisses, causing her to laugh joyfully. As you drew near her ear, you whispered, "I am so lucky to have you." Your words sent a shiver down Kit's spine.

"You don't even know what you do to me," Kit replied, her voice filled with longing, as she gently caressed your face.

With a swift move, Kit took hold of your waist and shifted positions so that both of you were now sitting. She leaned in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, losing herself in the sweet taste of your affection.

Amidst the stolen moments of intimacy, you paused to share some news. "I've got a job," you revealed, your words met with a kiss on your cheek from Kit.

"What?" Kit asked in confusion, her heart sinking at the thought of potentially seeing you less. "Why?" She moved back slightly, her worry apparent.

"Well, my parents thought it was time for me to get a job, but don't worry," you reassured her, gently cupping her face to plant a tender kiss on her lips. "I'll be working here, in the castle. Yes, I'll have to cook meals, but I'll see you more often," you said with a warm smile.

"Really? Why would you do that? It's very hard work. I could have gone to see you wherever you were," Kit expressed, her hand finding yours.

"I did it for us," you replied, your eyes sparkling with determination.

Kit felt like her heart might burst with emotion. In that moment, every part of her longed to tell you what she already knew. She mustered up the courage to speak but was interrupted by Jade's voice from the other side of the door.

"Time's up, lovebirds," Jade called out, breaking the spell.

You shared a laugh, then planted a soft kiss on Kit's lips. "You'll tell me later, Kit," you said as you reached for your shoes, preparing to leave.

Before you could step away, Kit gently grabbed your hand, pulling you back towards her. In the dim light of her room, she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours in a lingering kiss, a silent promise of the words she couldn't quite voice yet. The moment hung between you, filled with unspoken emotions, before you finally pulled away, your heart echoing Kit's unspoken affection.

With a tender smile, you whispered, "Goodnight, Kit," before slipping out of her room, your heart brimming with the love that had grown between you both, even in the quiet secrecy of the castle's halls.

You began working at the castle, and if Kit were being honest, she truly loved all the extra time she got to spend with you. Every stolen glance during meals, every gentle touch, and every moment your hands brushed against each other only deepened her affection. Kit cherished the nights when she showed you the secret spots in the castle, relishing every single second spent in your company. In those stolen moments, amidst the whispers of ancient stones, Kit found a happiness that felt like a treasure, one she wanted to hold onto for a lifetime.

This particular day, Kit woke up with an unusual sense of excitement. She and you had planned a little date night in the castle gardens, and Kit was determined to make everything perfect. She had even made arrangements to ask Jade for help in gathering candles and preparing food for the evening.

As Kit got ready for the day, her excitement grew. Breakfast time was always a bittersweet moment for her, as it was when you served her breakfast. Kit hated the fact that you needed to do that, but at the same time, she cherished the opportunity to brush her hand against yours and share secret smiles, hidden from her mother's watchful eyes.

Entering the breakfast room, Kit greeted her brother and her mother, but her attention was entirely consumed by thoughts of you. She couldn't help but admire how your hair looked that day, how the ribbon you wore matched the one she had chosen for her wrist. Every detail of your appearance seemed to captivate her, and she eagerly anticipated the moments they would share after breakfast.

"Kit! Were you listening to me?" her mother's voice broke through her thoughts.

"No, sorry, Mother," Kit replied, her gaze briefly shifting away from you. You returned from the kitchen with a fresh tray of food, wearing a small, warm smile that momentarily eased Kit's unease.

"I wanted to talk to you about something important," her mother continued.

Kit grabbed a muffin, taking a bite while trying to maintain her composure. "Okay, what is it?" she asked, noticing you making your way back to the kitchen with the tray.

"You are to be engaged to marry Prince Graydon of Galladoorn..." The sound of a tray clattering against the floor cut off the queen's words.

"Oh! I am so sorry, Your Majesty," you stammered, quickly kneeling down to clean the mess. Kit wished she could stand up and assist you, but she felt rooted to her seat, her breath catching in her throat. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't marry anyone else, especially when the person she truly wanted to be with was you. She turned her head to look at you and saw a tear streaming down your cheek.

Once you had retreated to the kitchen, Kit found her voice. "What? Mother, no. Please, I beg you!" she pleaded, desperation lacing her words.

"It is your duty to your kingdom, Kit!" her mother declared. "The meeting to sign the alliance is next week, and by then, I expect a change of attitude," she finished, rising from the table and leaving only Kit and her brother. Airk hurriedly approached Kit and embraced her tightly. In that moment, Kit finally allowed herself to cry. Her whole world seemed to be crumbling into pieces, and the weight of her responsibilities bore down on her shoulders like a crushing burden. The prospect of a future without you felt unbearable, and Kit clung to her brother, seeking solace in his comforting embrace as she wept for the love she feared she might lose.

The rest of the day proved to be a torturous ordeal for Kit. She wandered aimlessly through the castle, desperately searching for you. She even ventured into the kitchens, hoping to find a trace of your presence. Instead, a blonde girl informed her that she hadn't seen you since breakfast. Disappointed and increasingly worried, Kit's optimism began to wane. Even though she hadn't been able to plan the date the way she had envisioned, a small glimmer of hope persisted. Perhaps you would still show up.

As the hours passed, that hope gradually ebbed away, replaced by a sinking feeling in Kit's chest. The first hour of waiting felt like an eternity, but as the second hour ticked by, her optimism turned into a painful realization. Yet, Kit made the decision to stay, clinging to the possibility that you might still come.

She waited in the gardens, her heart heavy with anticipation. The night passed, and Kit remained there, alone and deserted. You never appeared. Deep down, she understood why you hadn't come, yet that understanding did little to ease the ache in her breaking heart. The night seemed endless, each passing moment a testament to the love that had been left unfulfilled, leaving Kit alone in the shadows of the garden, shattered and inconsolable.

For three agonizing days, Kit felt as if she couldn't breathe. The absence of your presence was like a suffocating weight on her chest, a relentless reminder of the love that had slipped through her fingers. Desperation gripped her heart, and she knew she had to do something about it.

"Jade, please, I need to talk to her, please," Kit pleaded, her eyes filled with raw emotion as she looked at her friend. They stood together in the training grounds, the weight of Kit's desperation heavy in the air.

"Kit, I know you do, trust me, I've tried," Jade replied, her voice filled with honesty and concern. "But she really doesn't want to see you right now."

Tears threatened to spill from Kit's eyes, her heart breaking a little more with each passing moment. "Please, I just want to tell her that I love her. She needs to know that I love her," Kit said, her voice trembling with the intensity of her feelings. She managed to contain her tears, but the pain in her eyes was unmistakable.

Jade fell into a thoughtful silence for a minute, her eyes searching Kit's face. "Go to the gardens tonight. I'll make up some excuse to get her there," Jade finally said, her voice softening with understanding.

Gratitude surged through Kit, and without a second thought, she enveloped Jade in a tight hug, a heartfelt thank you escaping her lips. There was a glimmer of hope in Kit's eyes, a fragile optimism that maybe, just maybe, she would have a chance to mend the shattered pieces of her heart.

That night, you arrived at the gardens, hoping to see Jade. She had promised to take you horseback riding, knowing that your days were occupied with work, leaving you with no time during the day for such leisure. As you spotted a figure in the garden, you called out, "Jade!" Your voice carried happiness, but as the figure turned around, you realized it wasn't her. Disappointment flooded your expression, and you turned away, ready to retreat.

"Please, wait!" Kit ran toward you, her voice carrying a tone of desperation. She grabbed your hand, her touch pleading with you to stay. "Please," she repeated, her eyes filled with an intensity that matched your own conflicting emotions.

Reluctantly, you turned around to face her. Kit looked exhausted, dark circles under her once bright eyes indicating the toll these past few days had taken on her. Yet, even in her weary state, you found her breathtaking. She reached out, gently touching your cheek, and you melted under her tender caress.

"We've got nothing to talk about, Kit," you said, your voice small, trying to push her away.

"Of course we do," she insisted, her touch soft and persuasive, inching closer to you.

"No, we don't," you replied, even as every fiber of your being yearned to kiss her, to hold her close and never let go.

"Let's just... talk," Kit suggested, moving closer, her determination etched on her face.

"Kit, you're getting married. What we had... it can't be anymore," you said, tears now freely streaming down your face.

"Don't, don't say that, please. We... we could find a way around it," Kit pleaded, her eyes searching yours for a glimmer of hope.

"We can't, Kit. It's your duty, and I understand. I knew what I was getting myself into," you whispered, pressing your forehead against hers. "And I still jumped headfirst into this... and I would do it a million times, just to have the time that we had."

It sounded like a goodbye, and Kit hated it. She knew what she wanted to say, but how could she, when it wouldn't change a thing? So, she did the only thing she could. She kissed you, savoring the bittersweet taste of your tears mingled with her own. In that moment, she tried to memorize every detail, every feeling, knowing it might be the last time.

The kiss broke, and you held each other, clinging to one another as if afraid the other might disappear. The moment was both heartbreaking and beautiful, a collision of love and loss. Kit hated the instant you let go of the hug.

"Goodbye, Kit," you said, your voice heavy with finality, and as you started to walk away, Kit didn't want to let go of your hand. But she had to. So, she watched you go, standing there in the darkness of the garden, her heart shattered and tears streaming down her face, aching for the love she was about to lose.

On her way back to her chambers, Kit couldn't stop crying. All she wanted was to lie in bed and cry until she had no tears left. However, her misery was interrupted by a stern voice slicing through the darkness.

"So, she's the reason you don't want to comply with your duties?" Kit turned around to see her mother, Queen Sorsha, staring at her with a mix of disappointment and concern etched on her face.

"I don't want to talk about it, Mom," Kit replied, her voice cracking from the weight of her emotions.

But her mother wasn't ready to let it go. She grabbed Kit's wrist firmly, demanding an explanation. "No, we are going to talk about it now," she insisted, her tone firm and unyielding.

"Fine!" Kit answered, her voice sharp with frustration.

"Is she really the reason? This... maid?" Sorsha asked, her tone dismissive and condescending.

"Don't! Don't call her that, and don't look down on her!" Kit retorted, her voice laced with determination and protectiveness.

"That's what she is, Kit. A maid. You, on the other hand, are a princess. You have duties," Queen Sorsha said, her words cutting through the air like ice.

"Don't talk about her like that. She took the job for me!" Kit said, her voice rising with a fierce intensity.

"What do you mean by that?" Sorsha inquired, her curiosity piqued.

"She took the job as a kitchen maid to be closer to me," Kit confessed, her voice almost a whisper, laden with vulnerability and despair.

Sorsha paused, her eyes studying her daughter, taking in the signs of her heartache. "How long has this been going on?" she asked, her tone softening, sensing the depth of Kit's feelings.

Kit turned around to face her mother, her eyes swollen from crying. "For over seven months," she began, her voice breaking. "But you don't have to worry about it anymore. As of tonight, there's nothing left for you to worry about," she added, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Sorsha stood there, silently watching her daughter break down. A mixture of emotions crossed her face, a realization dawning upon her. "Does this girl really mean so much to you?" she asked cautiously, moving closer to Kit.

"I love her, Mom," Kit said, her voice filled with raw emotion, her love pouring out like a waterfall breaking free from its dam. "I love her so much that every day, when I wake up, all I want to do is see her, hold her, look into those beautiful eyes, and take her to the gardens to hear her talk about her favorite flowers. I want to cherish every moment with her. I was so lucky," Kit finished, her voice barely a whisper, as she sank to the ground, crumbling under the weight of her heartbreak, tears flowing quietly once again.

Sorsha looked at her daughter, her heart breaking for the pain she saw in Kit's eyes. Deciding to approach her differently, Sorsha knelt down, attempting to reach for Kit's hand “Kit, why didn’t you tell me?” but before she could touch her, Kit moved abruptly.

"When, Mom?" Kit's voice cracked as she screamed, her pain and anger bursting forth. "And even if I did tell you, you probably would have banished her to another realm, taking her away from me! And yet, you managed to rip her away from me!" Kit's voice wavered, her eyes filled with a mix of anguish and fury as she stood up, her body trembling. With that, she turned away, heading toward her chambers, leaving Sorsha standing there, alone.

As Sorsha stood in the corridor, she felt a profound sense of loss and regret. She realized she had never given her daughter the opportunity to confide in her, to trust her. Her intentions had always been to protect Kit, but now, she had lost that trust, and her daughter's happiness had been shattered before her eyes. Witnessing her brave, beautiful daughter break down made Sorsha vow to herself that she would do anything in her power to prevent that pain from ever consuming Kit again.

She didn't even know what Airk might be hiding from her. It was time to rearrange things, to reevaluate her decisions and actions. Kit's happiness was paramount, and Sorsha was determined to make amends. It was time to change the course of their lives.

Kit dreaded waking up the next day, fully aware that everything with you was over. So she dismissed all the ladies' maids, seeking a moment of solitude. However, after a while, Kit heard her chamber door creak open again. Prepared to send the intruder away, she turned around and found her mother standing there.

"Wake up, Kit. You have a busy day ahead of you," Sorsha said with determination.

"Really? Why? Is my wedding today, and you didn't tell me?" Kit retorted sarcastically, although she complied and rose from her bed.

Her mother, seemingly unfazed by Kit's tone, observed her daughter with a knowing look. This made Kit uneasy.

"I am not getting married today, am I?" Kit asked cautiously

"No, you're not. You're going to train with the knights of Galladoorn," Sorsha informed her.

"What?" Kit asked, bewildered.

"Next month, you are set to begin your training with the knights. It will mark the first time a princess joins their ranks," Sorsha finished.

"Great, now I won't even be able to see her. I just know it!" Kit exclaimed, frustration growing within her. But Sorsha remained composed.

"With this new alliance, your engagement with Prince Graydon won't be necessary," Sorsha said, shocking Kit, who turned around to stare at her mother in disbelief.

"What? What are you trying to say, Mom?" Kit's voice quivered with hope.

"What I'm trying to say, Kit, is that you should get ready to go and tell that sweet girl, the girl who has captured my daughter's heart, that everything will be okay," Sorsha began walking toward Kit, who stood frozen in place. She reached out and gently took her daughter's hands, this time not facing rejection. "Everything will be okay because your mother loves you, Kit. And your mother is also the Queen. It might take time, but you go and tell that girl that you love her, and that I'm going to fight for you two," Sorsha concluded, and she felt Kit's arms enveloping her. It was a hug she hadn't received since Kit was a little girl.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, Mom!" Kit said, practically running toward the door.

Everyone in the castle was surprised to see the princess running with a broad smile on her face, even giggling. Their shock intensified when she burst into the kitchens. But when Kit entered, she couldn't find you anywhere.

"She was sent to pick some flowers, at your mother's request," the blonde girl from last time informed her. The gardens. Of course, her mother would have sent her there.

Hope bubbled up inside her as she ran, and once she reached the gardens and saw you there, picking flowers, it felt as if she was looking at you for the first time. This time, she knew that nothing would ever come between you.

"I love you!" Kit screamed, startling you, your confusion evident.

"I don't understand, Kit," you said, your confusion clear.

"I've loved you for quite some time, and I am not losing you," she said, walking toward you. "I love you," she repeated, quieter this time.

"But you're supposed to be engaged?" you said, caution in your eyes.

"I am not engaged, and I won't be, unless it's with you," Kit said, reaching for your hand. She placed a kiss on it, sealing her promise.

"That's impossible, Kit," you said, your eyes still filled with caution.

"Not anymore. My mother is going to fight for us, for this... so if you would have me, I am all yours, and every beat of my heart belongs to you," Kit declared, determination shining in her eyes. You just kissed her; you knew you had kissed her yesterday, but that kiss had felt like a goodbye, while this kiss was a promise.

"I love you too, Kit, more than anything in this world," you said, and then you joined your lips once again.

You both stayed there, kissing in the gardens for some time, only breaking it to repeat the words "I love you." A new beginning; that's what this meant. Not just for the two of you, but for the whole realm. Everything was about to change, and you two were at the heart of it. Regardless, you had each other, and that was all you needed.

#kit tanthalos #kit tanthalos fanfiction #ruby cruz fanfic #kit tanthalos x reader #kit tanthalos x jade claymore #kit thantalos x reader #hazel callahan #ruby cruz

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evoblue · 11 months

Note

"Happy birthday." Alric hands Blue a small box. Inside is a gold trimmed pokeball locket, the top was painted blue like her custom pokeballs. "Go ahead, open it up." Inside was a little eevee figure. "I thought it was fitting with the work you're in."

"Thank you, Alric." Blue eases her arms around him in a hug before accepting the gift. "You didn't have to get me anything, though—"

Regardless, she opens the box to reveal the delicate piece of jewelry. She can't help but note how much the pokéball resembles her own ; it's such a nice touch! Gold, those details, the Eevee... it's very clear that Alric pays plenty of attention when she's going on and on about things that she likes.

"I love it!" she gushes, already sweeping her hair over her shoulder so she can fasten it around her neck. "I'll wear it always." / @mindovermechanics

#mindovermechanics #💙 event: happy birthday blue 2023 #answered.

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nicoline1998enilocin · 2 months

Text

Birthday Confession

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.4K

SUMMARY | Bucky never really cared for his birthday, but he suddenly had a different outlook since you came into his life. As long as he can spend it with you—the sweet, soft-spoken neighbor he secretly harbors a major crush on— and his cat, Alpine, he's happy. However, when everything takes a turn this year, you're both turning it into a birthday he'll never forget.

RATING | Mature (M)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Friends to lovers trope, use of Y/N, alcohol consumption, Natasha and Tony are alive, mutual pining.

A/N | This story is written in honor of Bucky Barnes' birthday, which is the perfect opportunity for me to get into the swing of writing for him again! It's written for Bucky's Birthday Bash—hosted by @buckybarnesevents—and includes the prompts Post Endgame Bucky, Friends to Lovers, Reader, and Dancing. The story is not proofread, any and all mistakes are my own.

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | Header: Yours truly

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky never particularly cared for his birthday, but that changed when he met you—the sweet, soft-spoken neighbor who moved in next to his apartment almost five years ago. He used to be a recluse, preferring the company of Alpine, his cat, but something about you made him want to open up and let you into his life.

Now that you had melted his heart and broken down the walls he had built, he found himself looking forward to seeing you. He even dared to say he looks forward to celebrating his birthday because he knows that you will make him the type of cupcake he loves.

It's just after dinner, and he finds himself on his couch, Alpine purring on his lap as he pets her and tells her about his evening plans.

"I'm going to the club later, can you believe it? I never would have even considered it a few years ago, but when Y/N asked me, I didn't even think twice about it," he says with a small smile, shaking his head gently at the thought of you asking him to the club a few weeks ago. He could not say no to you, especially with his major crush on you.

Alpine meows when she hears your name because when you and Bucky got to know each other, you have also fallen in love with her. She's the reason you two even met. The day you first moved in, Bucky went to check his mail on a beautiful summer evening, and Alpine escaped before he could stop her.

She wandered carelessly into your apartment with a loud meow, pulling your attention away from the box you were unpacking. A white, fluffy cat with the brightest blue eyes you have ever seen stood in front of you, and right behind her was the most beautiful, albeit broody-looking man you've ever seen.

"Alpine! What do you think you're doing wandering into this lady's apartment?!" he told the cat, and you couldn't help but chuckle as she meowed loudly when he picked her up.

"I'm sorry," he said, and you smiled warmly at him. Deep inside, you were enjoying the stark difference between the dark-haired, broad-shouldered man and the beautiful white cat in his arms, but they seemed to fit together perfectly as if they were made for one another.

"It's okay; I like cats, especially when they bring along men like you!" you said confidently, and Bucky couldn't help but blush deeply after your comment. Before you could introduce yourself, he turned around and quickly returned to his apartment; the mail he was supposed to pick up had been long forgotten. From that moment on, you were the topic of most thoughts.

Over time, Bucky has slowly accepted you into his life, and being with you has brightened some of the darkest moments of his life. After Steve returned to be with Peggy, Bucky struggled a lot. From horrible nightmares to sleepless nights, he has been through everything. But you always seem to bring a bit of lightness wherever you go, including in Bucky's life.

Nowadays, he is generally a lot happier, but it's even more noticeable when you're in his presence; he carries himself with more confidence. Instead of hiding away all the time, he doesn't mind being seen when you're by his side. You gave him back the self-confidence he'd lost all those years ago, and he will always be thankful for that.

Before he can think about all that too hard, though, he hears a knock on the door and tucks Alpine under his arm before he opens it. He can see you standing there through the peephole and quickly swings open the door to let you in.

You're standing in front of him in a tight, knee-length dress, black heels, and lipstick that perfectly matches the color of your dress. The rest of your makeup is light, and your hair is pulled into a bun with braids to complete your outfit. His gaze lowers to the cupcake in your hand, a candle burning.

"Happy birthday, Bucky! Make a wish!" you tell him in a cheerful voice. With a smirk, he leans down to blow out the candle on the cupcake you're holding, though he already knows what he'll wish for. Each year, he wishes for the same thing: that you become his. This year may be the year for it to come true.

"I got you something special for your birthday this year. It's not every day you turn 107 years old, after all," you tell him, and he can't help but laugh. The fact that he's this old has never bothered you, and he's thankful for that.

The first time you ran into him on his birthday and asked how he was, he couldn't help but tell you it was his birthday. He still remembers how your eyes widened at his words and how you showed up later that afternoon with a book you had recently read.

Your shared love for reading is one of many things you two have in common, so you have developed the tradition of buying books for special occasions. The moment he tore the paper away from the first book you ever gifted him, he knew he would love it no matter what because it came from you.

You found an extra special one this year, though, and you've been dying to see his reaction since you acquired it. It is wrapped in shiny, black wrapping paper with a gold ribbon.

With quick movements, he unwraps his present, and an almost pristine first edition of The Hobbit is lying in his hands. It is the same book he read when it first came out and one he never thought he would see again.

"Why don't you open it up?" you urge him, and he does. Inside are the words he never thought he would see again, and he can't help but get choked up at the sight of them.

'Happy Birthday, jerk' is scribbled at the front of the book, and Bucky knows instantly that it's the version Steve has worked hard to buy him. Tears gather in his eyes as his fingers glide over the words, and he feels deeply thankful for this present.

"W-where—How-?" is all he can manage to choke out before you step forward and wrap your arms around him. He melts into your touch as your cheek is pressed against his chest, and soft kisses are placed on your head as his way of saying thank you.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes until you feel Alpine's soft fur against your bare legs, making you chuckle before releasing him and bending down to give her some love. Not long after, it's finally time to go to the club where you are supposed to meet the other Avengers, and Bucky calls the two of you a cab to take you there, saving you two the hassle of NYC parking.

"Are you ready to go in, Doll?" Bucky asks after helping you out of the cab and paying the driver. You nod as you go into the club, which is still relatively empty. It's still early in the night as you go and find a booth, and the rest of the Avengers will join later. As you slide into it, you look around to observe the room, but your eye eventually falls on Bucky standing at the bar.

He looks back at you with a wink as he orders your drinks, even though he can't get drunk. Despite that, he still enjoys the taste of it, so he usually orders a beer or two. It doesn't take long for him to join you in your booth, sliding in so he's sitting right next to you, and your thighs are almost touching.

"Thank you for inviting me, Doll. These evenings are a lot more bearable now that you're with me," he says, and you give him a smile before taking a sip of your drink.

"I'm glad to hear that because I know they're a lot more bearable for me when you're here," you say, and he blushes under the scruff lining his cheeks. The pink tint has the butterflies in your stomach going wild, but most of the other Avengers are arriving before you can say anything else.

Tony arrives at your table first, closely followed by Natasha, Wanda, Sam, and Clint. The two of you slide out of the booth to greet everyone, and the three men go to sit on one side while you, Natasha, and Wanda sit on the other side. Luckily, you're still seated across from Bucky during all this.

The conversation during the night's first half is light and pleasant, but the more drinks flowing, the looser everyone becomes. Combined with the number of people slowly filling the club, the atmosphere is starting to get much more enjoyable. You're just about to take a sip of your third drink of the evening when Natasha and Wanda practically pull you out of the booth, begging you to dance with them.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming!" you tell them with a broad smile that doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky. Seeing you getting along so well with his friends fills him with happiness, and no one can wipe off the smile adorning his face. He also knows that if Steve were here with all of you, he would have loved you, too.

The entire time you're on the dancefloor, Bucky's eyes are glued to you. From the way your hips move effortlessly to the excitement on your face, and from the way the sweat drips down your neck and into the valley of your breasts to the way your dress seems to ride up just enough to show a bit more skin, he notices it all.

"Why don't you go over there and dance with her? It's almost creepy when you're staring at her, man!" Sam says with a push against his metal arm.

"I'm pretty sure she's doing just fine with Nat and Wanda over there," he says, looking at Sam grumpily. However, you seem to have gotten the same idea as you return to the booth.

"Dance with me, Bucky! C'mon!" you say, and of course, the man cannot say no to you. Bucky shoots Sam a dirty look before turning to you, sliding out of the booth, and taking your hand. The music has a nice thumping bass, and Bucky allows himself to get lost in it and in the moves your body makes.

While you were dancing side by side at first, it eventually migrated to the point where you're grinding against him, his bulge pressing against your ass while his fingers are digging into your hips. The tension between you two has been building for a long time, and relieving some of it right now feels good.

After dancing like this for a while, you turn to face Bucky, and he can see the way you're enjoying yourself. From the flush on your cheeks to the smile adorning your face, you're looking perfect, and Bucky has to stop himself from kissing you right now. It's not that he doesn't want to do it, but if he goes down that path with you, he wants to do it right.

"Shall we go outside for a moment?" you ask him, and he nods. You lead him out, the cool air feeling pleasant against your skin.

"Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Doll?" he asks you, though he already knows the answer. Clearly, you're enjoying yourself, but he still wants to hear you say it.

"I am, but there's a reason I asked you out here. Away from everyone else's ears," you tell him, his curiosity piqued. He raises a brow as he looks at you, your lip pulled between your teeth as you muster up the courage to finally tell him what's on your mind. You've gotten this far, so now you have to pull through.

"The past few years with you have been amazing, Bucky, but I have noticed that something... changed," you say after a short moment. As soon as those words leave your mouth, Bucky's brows furrow, but you're quick to ease the thoughts in his head.

"I mean to say I'm in love with you, Bucky. I'm not sure when or how it happened, but it has. I understand if you don't feel the same about me, but I've been thinking about this for almost a year now-" is all you get to say before he pulls you against his chest as he dips down to capture your lips with his.

It's a soft, sweet kiss that has you melting into his touch, and neither of you wants it to end. When the need for air eventually takes over your brain, you hesitantly pull away, though your foreheads are still connected as you gaze into Bucky's bright blue eyes.

"I'm in love with you too, Doll, but I have another confession. I don't know how to be in a relationship," he says softly, and you smile at his confession.

"Good, that makes two of us. But if you want to, I want to figure it out together. Something about being with you feels right, and I want to explore it with you if you're open to it," you say, and he nods.

"I'd love nothing more, Doll," he says before he leans down and kisses you again, your head tilting slightly to the side as he does. All four other Avengers are whooping in excitement as the two of you kiss, but you don't care. All you can think about is Bucky and how his lips feel on yours.

"Finally, it took you guys long enough!" Tony says before everyone congratulates the two of you. Before you go back inside, Bucky grabs his phone from his pocket, and when he notices the time, he can't help but smile.

"Y'know what, Doll, out of all the 3 AM talks we've shared over the years, this is my favorite," he says as he shows you the time. You have stayed up with him during his nightmares or sleepless nights countless times, but you cannot agree more. This one is definitely your favorite.

"Happy birthday, Bucky," you tell him before pulling him in for a last kiss. Afterward, you go back inside, and all of you dance until the sun rises again, and it's time to go home. Bucky may have celebrated many birthdays in his life, but not a single one will ever top this one. There's no greater gift than hearing you confess your love for him, after all.

#BBEbuckybdaybash2024 #BaBB2023 #anyfandomaubingo #anyfandomfluffbingo #fandombingo #marvelsmashbingo #sebastianstanbingo #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff

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riaki · 5 months

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santa claus and his treats | satoru gojo x f!reader pt.1 of christmas event! wc: 3.4k oops i went overboard | cw: petnames, literally j pure fluff ur both STUPID in love, he’s the cutest! happy birthday pretty boy 🧸

"'toru?" you called, voice filling the dimly lit room as you peeked your head in through the door. the curtains were drawn, the iridescent green tinsel dotted with soft yellow lights framing the doorway of your bedroom scratching your neck as you spotted the white-haired boy sitting on your shared bed, picking at something on his lower lip.

you took a moment to drink in the sight— his soft white hair that fell over dazzling sky-blue eyes, the color of the lake dotted with fragile crystalline snowflakes that melted into fresh spring streams that fed nature with new growth and fresh flower buds, a tangible warmth when his gaze fell on you and an easy smile stretched across his pink lips. a little too easy, you think. easy enough for you to miss the way he swipes a coffee brown crumb from his cheek; the smile has too much sugar and cream for you to buy it.

your eyes slowly drift from his charming grin to the rest of the room. there's a forest green tuft of leaves hanging from the ceiling on a thin golden string; you recognize the crimson red berries and waxed leaves with spots of pearl dotting as a bunch of mistletoe, hanging right over the mattress. clearly, he thought ahead.

you snuff the flush from your cheeks as he perks up at the sight of you, straightening his back. "hey, baby! you must be my present from santa this year," he laughs, holding his arms out, an invitation for you to crawl into his arms and curl up on his lap like two warm cats by the fireplace. you almost gave in— until you remembered why you were looking for him.

"you're getting coal this time, satoru." you said, huffing as you walked over to the mattress and put your hands on your hips, attempting to come off as intimidating in front of your boyfriend as you leaned over and stared down at him. he just giggled that sweet, boyish laughter of his, scooting closer and capturing you between two strong arms to tug you onto the bed with him. the sheets were soft, and they smelled like him as he pulled you onto his lap and cuddled you like a life-sized plushie, all warmth and soft comfort that he craved so much.

"aww, really? but it's my birthday today," he sighed loudly, shaking his head as he firmly planted his hands on either side of your head to prevent you from worming away and planting a loud smooch on the top of your hair, before laughing as you pulled away from his grasp and gave him a glare. “besides, you’re anything but a bad gift.” he smiles.

“don’t sweet talk me, ‘toru. you’ve been naughty this year.” he wiggles his eyebrows at that, and you shoot him a sharp glare which just earns you a light scoff, but there’s a smile mirrored on both of your lips.

(maybe they’ve met so many times in the past that they know how to copy the other flawlessly.)

"but you're already here, my love. lookin' all pretty like the angel on top of our tree." he hums, crossing his legs and holding his ankles as he rocks back and forth; the teddy bear he won you from the arcade on your first date is face planted into the pillows by his side, donning a festive red santa hat. the white fluffy pom pom looks like satoru's hair, and you stifle a laugh at the thought.

"how kind of you, satoru." and you mean it— he looks like his own christmas angel; snowy hair and pretty blue eyes clad in a loose black tee with cheap printed red and green christmas lights over his chest. he looks unfairly attractive with those gray sweatpants on, too. you wouldn't mind wrapping him up in yellow ribbon and presenting him to your parents this year as your holiday present from santa, and then having your own fun with him later. you suppose you must've been perfectly good to land him; so pretty and fun, bubbling laughter that speaks of his care in volumes. and he’s their soon-to-be son-in-law, after all. and he’s a golden catch.

but it’s time for this white betta to be put in his place; he’s gone snooping where he shouldn’t have— or rather, scavenging would be the more appropriate choice. and he’s about to be skinned for entering the lion(fish)'s den. your matching red-green plaid pajama pants won't save him this time.

"sorry, baby, but you can't talk yourself out of this one." you said firmly, scooting closer to him as you sat back on your knees and gave him a look as pointed and narrow as the icicles melting on the frosted awnings. to anyone else, you might look like a wet, angry cat— but to satoru, it was enough to strike fear straight into the center of his heart. his fight-or-flight response kicked in (it only ever did with you)— and it was as if you could see the change in his demeanor. his eyes voluntarily softened, lids drooping as a lazy smile drifted over his lips like fluffy white clouds over a pale sun on a winter's morning.

"aww, don't be like that. my princess looks so much prettier when she's happy," he coos, all milk and honey as he reaches out and catches your wrist, rubbing his thumb over your pulse beating beneath your soft skin as he brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles. so he chooses to fight, and you almost fold— almost.

you twist your arm in his grasp, eliciting a whiny yelp of pain; getting him to let go of you as you quickly flick his forehead. even so, he lets you-- he never turns infinity on around you, even at the price of his own sanctity.

you sighed when he gave you a dramatic pout, sticking out his bottom lip as he hung his head low in defeat like a golden retriever being scolded by his owner, soft hair falling over his pretty blues. his hands come up to cradle his head, rubbing the spot where you'd knicked him. "don't play around, satoru. where are the cookies i baked last night?" you asked, reflecting his frown with a pointed glare. if looks could cut, he'd be a red christmas on the cloudlike sheets. you were tired of beating around the bush, especially when satoru had a knack for making it utterly exhausting. nevertheless, it went on.

"maybe santa came early," he quipped, giggling at his own joke. "you never know, huh? he's an unpredictable old geezer. likes his milk and cookies, or so i heard."

"didn't know santa claus had the six eyes." you deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest and looking him square in the eyes. "and he shaved his beard off, apparently." he feigns hurt, holding a hand over his heart in mock anguish.

"i'm no thief! it hurts me to know you think of me so low, sweetheart." he sighs dramatically, shaking his head. outside, the snowy wind howls in agreement. "besides, it's my birthday. you're suffocating the spirit, honey." he drawls.

you just roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms and shifting to sit closer to him. you will your irritated expression to soften, and it's reflected in the way satoru immediately relaxes, shoulders sagging as the anxious look in his eyes vanishes like the wilting ghost of fall on a christmas eve, leaving behind the scent of bluebells and frost on the wind. he thinks you've forgiven him.

that's just what you need. for him to let his guard down so you can spring the trap on him. santa may be able to get away with his yearly trespassing, but satoru's entered the property of more than your heart this time, and it's time for his holiday retribution.

"give me your hand, satoru." you said softly, voice barely a breath above a whisper. he obliges almost immediately, scooting closer on the bed so that his knees graze against yours, and you hear him suck in a little breath at the contact as your hand finds his.

you take his palm in your own; his hands are considerably bigger than yours, but you still manage to run a thumb over the ridges of his knuckles, gently massaging the soft skin over weary bones. a sweet little noise leaves his breathless lips; it's almost like a purr, and when you glance up at him he's almost as red as the glittering velvet bulbs dangling from the primmed branches of your christmas tree. he looks away, a subtle pout weighing down on his lips as he coughs loudly, as if the amber sap of a pine tree has caught in his throat, scratchy like tree bark.

"what are you doing?" he whispers, voice rough and hoarse, like someone took a fireplace stoker and poked his throat. almost a protest.

but you can feel him melting into you, and soon enough, he’s sandwiched you between his warmth and the fluffy blankets, the scent of apples and cinnamon weaved between the strands of his soft white hair as they tickle your flushed skin. his lips are soft and pliant and warm against your own; he's all over you, hands finding your wrists to trace tender, wobbly circles over your thrumming pulse with his thumb. he's robbing your lungs of air, needy in the way he cages you between his lanky limbs, lock and key with his free hand threading through your hair. he can never get enough of you, and he throws his inhibitions to the frostbitten wind if they mean learning to resist you.

it's spread around you like ripples on the surface of a misty lake, and when he draws away to stare down at you, eyes blown wide with a certain shine in his eye that reminds you of glowing embers, jumping from the lively blossom of fire on the grated dark metal of a hearth, there's a cheeky lopsided grin on his glossy lips. his fingers are slender, pale and callused, a gentle flushed at the tips.

"there was a mistletoe," he says breathlessly, as if that'll excuse him. as if he needs an excuse to kiss you. you just laugh, reaching up to trace his jaw with a finger, and he shudders despite the heater inside your room. the bunch of green leaves and red berries hanging above you sways in agreement.

but you can't focus on the dreamy look on his face; that lazy smile that dances over his lips and illuminates his features like twinkling christmas lights catching on each edge of a carefully cut snowflake, the sky's jewels. every time he looks at you as if you've crafted each intricacy of his world; patched the colors together and taught the light to reflect, you feel as though there are bubbles in your throat, and you have to cough them away when they're accompanied by a familiar rush of heat to your face.

it's all overpowered. strongly, by the rich taste of cinnamon. rich, sweet, distinctly festive, mixed with brown sugar and cookie batter; flour on the matching aprons satoru bought for the two of you, except the 'he' on 'he cooks' has been messily crossed out and replaced with a scribble that says 'she', and vice versa. it's on his tongue, his lips, the little dips on the corner of his mouth that makes him look like a kitten every time he grins. it tastes like wearing matching christmas sweaters, sampling sweet treats fresh out of the oven and laughing cheerily in your little cozy kitchen of warmth when he burns his tongue, a sour look on his face that wrinkles his nosebridge.

but, most importantly, it tastes like condemnation.

you sit up, briefly (and painfully) knocking foreheads with him when he's too slow to mirror your actions, but the complaint that's ready to stain the air like chimney soot dies on his tongue when he sees the look on your face. you look the same as you did the first time you found out he'd forgotten to pick up megumi and tsumiki from school. in other words, pissed.

"hey, pretty girl. you should smile; you look less like an ogre when you do—" he hastily starts, laughing nervously as he runs his hands through his messy hair. you've noticed that whenever you neglect to toy with the silky soft strands when you're tangled with him, whether it be kissing, cuddling, or... something else, he'll do it afterward as if to emulate the feeling of your fingers in his hair, even if it 'screws it up'. apparently, his skyscraper ego is too fragile to ask for headscratches.

"just a minute, satoru." you cut him off through gritted teeth, lips that should be stretched in a wide smile pressed together in frustration. your eyes narrow as you straighten up, sitting back on your ankles. "you ate them, didn't you?" your fingers dig into his skin, pinching his cheek. if his skin wasn't already stained crimson with boyish excitement, it would be an angry red now. you give killer pinches; he knows firsthand.

which is why he should've thought ahead and listened to the angel on his shoulder when you were knocked out earlier, curled up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, snoozing away. what was he to do? the cookies you'd made were calling his name. and it was for his birthday, and they were made for him. so why couldn't he indulge?

this was why.

and you know you've pinned him with your accusation like a throwing dart on a cork board; the way his gaze bounces around the room and his smile turns a hint sheepish and a handful guilty speaks volumes enough before he can even protest. but he can feel your wrath like an entire mine's worth of coal in his stockings, so he quickly throws his hands up, shimmying away from your angry pinch. the sheets bunch beneath him.

"listen, sweets, i just thought that— well, i'm sorry, baby, they just looked so good. and i only ate a few! i swear." satoru says solemnly, getting on his knees and throwing himself before you. he knows you're unamused— sitting there, crosslegged, looking down at him as if he's some chewed up gum you found on the bottom of your shoe. he might as well be. blueberry flavored, maybe? or mint, he's fine with that too—

"so you did." you just sigh, flicking his hunched shoulders, before you go soft again, and he sees pink. you reach forward, fingers creeping beneath his chin to tilt his face up. his skin is soft and warm beneath your skin, thrumming with a life and heat the poor overworked radiator in your room could never measure up to. and when he does look up, his starstruck gaze meets your own; you look ethereal in the warm light, and he wonders why he hasn't put a ring on your finger or started a family with you yet. maybe that can be the last gift to top off the cake of your overflowing knitted stocking, hanging from the kitchen counter; a mahogany box with golden hinges who's shine pales in comparison to the diamond ring in the center of the velvet.

he tucks the idea into his mental notes and grins, a cheeky flash of teeth. "so you forgive me, right?"

wrong. he should know better than to push his luck. especially when it comes to you.

the hand beneath his chin creeps up his face to squeeze his cheeks together, forcing his lips to pucker like a fish out of water as he tries to escape to no avail. you glare down at him, all needles. not at all in the holiday spirit, if you ask him. his face is squishy as a pillow beneath your fingers, and a smile resurfaces on your lips after a long struggle to keep it submerged.

he opens his mouth, no doubt to wail like a newborn, and you quickly withdraw, knowing better than to continue your assault. "geez! okay, fine. sorry. i ate them, you grinch." he grumbles, rubbing his squished cheek as he pouts and looks away, shrinking in on himself. his shirt is bundled beneath his arms, slipping off one of his shoulders to expose a pleasant flush on his neck. "seriously! you're such a killjoy. there's no fun in waiting," he smiles mischievously, wiggling his toes and nudging you with his foot. the fabric of his fuzzy reindeer socks bumps against your thigh, and you make another face at the red pom poms on the crudely-knit rudolph face.

"apologize." you emphasize each syllable, letting them fall off your tongue. they jut into his side like blows to his ribs; he falls back onto the bed for extra dramatics, letting it squeak beneath his weight.

"oh, the horror! to think that i'd be reduced to such a state—"

"satoru."

"—that i, head of the gojo clan, the honored one—”

"satoru gojo."

"should be forced to bow to such pious customs at the foot of scrooge—"

"gojo!"

you reach over to threateningly pinch him again, and he rolls away, tossing a fuzzy pillow into the air and kicking it at you like he's playing some cursed form of tennis. you scowl, catching the cushion and tossing it back at him. it lands square on his face, and he whines, crying about how you've ruined his beautiful, youthfully full, gorgeous face; how is he ever going to pretend to be santa and let pretty girls sit on his lap now? —and that one earns him another pinch to his arm.

"okay, okay! i'm sorry, my love. you're not the grinch, or scrooge, and i shouldn'tve eaten the cookies." he sighs, excruciatingly slow as he inches towards you again, wary of but wanting your warmth all the same. it's too cold to be alone this morning, anyway.

"without me." you corrected, unable to wipe the light grin from your face, and you watch as his face lights up, like a kid seeing his dream christmas present in the window display of a bright shop, hidden behind frosted glass and cold air.

he sits up again, scooting close and opening his arms once more. this time, you oblige, throwing yourself onto him and wrapping your arms around his neck. now he’s the one with his back flush against the mattress, soft as a cloud of cotton candy. he laughs, and it rumbles through his chest when his hands find the back of your head and he tucks your head beneath his chin, cradling your neck.

"without—" punctuated with a kiss to the top of your head, "you." satoru finishes, and you can hear the grin in his voice, cheery as a christmas carole. his arms snake around your waist, squeezing lightly as one hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt to gently rub your back. his fingers against your skin feels like the touch of a butterfly, wings like stained glass.

"how about this, pretty? we can make more together." he suggests, resting his chin on top of your head. you're smushed into his chest, the printed material of his christmas light t-shirt scratching your face, and the only thing you can manage to breathe is the cheap cologne you bought him (you don't understand why he uses it when he could afford the best of his own), but suddenly you can't bring yourself to mind. so you nod, and he chuckles.

"d'ya still wanna do cinnamon?" he asks softly, slipping his free hand into your hair to play with the strands, holding you close and cozy in his embrace. the burning heat of friction between your numb hands or a roaring fireplace don't compare to the warmth he brings you, soft and sweet and painfully human. and you can't really make yourself feel upset at the pretty boy with snow-white hair holding you anymore.

"nah. let's do peanut butter chocolate chip." you hum, muffled, and he laughs, hearty and full, the kind that makes his entire body tremble a little. and you can feel it, so you tilt your head up to peer up at him. there's a stray pine needle in his hair; must've been from your hazardously decorated christmas tree. he looks down at you and smiles, brushing your hair from your eyes and leaning in to kiss your forehead. it’s like a crimson wax stamp sealing his love letter to you.

he cuddles you close, tufts of his soft hair tickling your face like a tacky christmas sweater. "sounds unhealthy. but whatever you want, baby. santa's gonna give you all you ask this year." and this time, he doesn't use the mistletoe as an excuse to brush his lips against yours when you move to pick the pine needle from his hair. he smells like vanilla, swirled like espresso with a hint of cinnamon.

he may have enjoyed his cookies and milk without you, but there's nowhere else he’d rather be— no one else he'd rather share the rest of his time with, be it baking, decorating, or lazy naps in each other’s arms. after all, half the jolliness of the holiday season comes from being with you.

fish analogies went crazy… happy bday gojo !!! my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

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blackhairedjjun · 8 days

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it's you that i'd lie with. - c.yj

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst, apocalypse au (no literally), the end of the world but make it slice of life, non-idol au, best friends to lovers, last-minute getting together (and i really mean last minute!!) | word count: 923 | warnings: implied death, natural disasters, mentioned existential crises, kissing, brief food mentions

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompt - LAST: believing it to be their last chance to confess their feelings for the receiver, the sender tells them that they love them. (requested by @beomnoullitheorem - "I don't mind any kind of ending as I love both happy and sad endings, so I'm leaving it all upto you and I'm gonna love any of your work be it having any kind of ending!")

author's notes: hi noulli! unfortunately i don't have a copy of the stuff we talked abt for this prompt since i answered your asks privately, but i tried to remember what we said as best as i can! also i was in a very "wow i wanna kiss him sooooo bad" mood when i wrote this so uh. yeah sldkfskldjf. also the title is from "as the world caves in" by matt maltese!

“do you really think the world will end today, y/n? like what the reporters said?”

you cast a glance up at the cloudless sky, its color a gradient of deep blue to pale yellow. meteor showers fall constantly like rain made of light. “well... if it isn’t ending, it’s putting on a hell of a show.”

yeonjun lets out a soft giggle and pulls you closer in his arms. you sigh happily and rest your head on his chest; his heartbeat is a bit faster than usual, though it is his last day on earth after all. you’ve always been touchy-feely with your best friend, but you’ve never been this close.

as soon as the news reports announced the end of the world a few weeks ago, the two of you instantly knew that you wanted to spend your last day here, at the open-air rooftop restaurant where you first met. you spent the next few weeks saying goodbye to your friends and family, checking a few things off your bucket list, and just... making peace with your life. today you and yeonjun claimed a table overlooking the deserted city below, though there wasn’t any competition anyway 一 the cooks and waitstaff had abandoned the place to spend their last day with their loved ones.

you lift your head up from yeonjun’s embrace to take in one last look at the sky, beautiful yet terrifying, a canvas of light and shadow. you wonder what everyone else is doing: maybe they too are looking at the sky, or maybe they can’t see it at all from the makeshift underground shelters they’ve gone to. maybe some are watching it alone, maybe others are watching it with a loved one, just like you.

just then you feel soft lips on the crown of your head, and you look up to see yeonjun pulling away from his brief kiss. he’s gazing at you with those warm brown eyes, and you can’t help the heat spreading across your cheeks.

“you’re quiet,” he says.

“so are you, jjunie.”

“it’s just... a lot.”

“i know.”

perhaps your brain is making you see things because this is the last time you’ll ever see him, but this is the most beautiful yeonjun has ever looked. strands of black hair fall over his eyes, and as you lift a hand to brush them aside you feel an ache in your heart.

“i was supposed to take you here again for your birthday, y’know,” he says with a small smile.

“really? you didn’t think i’d be sick of it here?”

“nah, you love it here. you’re always ordering their cheesecake.”

you laugh. “i mean, no one makes it like they d一”

just then the earth begins to shake and the whole building sways. yeonjun grabs onto you as you’re both thrown onto the ground. you bury your head in your friend’s chest and grip onto his hoodie; his own grip around your waist tightens and he curls around you. the table topples and nearly lands on your head, only for yeonjun to grab you and roll you away from the spot.

the ground beneath you rumbles, and you can hear the crashing of plates and bottles from the restaurant kitchen. tables and chairs are knocked over. you screw your eyes shut, yet the world doesn’t stop spinning...

and then an alarm starts blaring in the distance, and it’s over as soon as it started. you remain lying on the floor clinging to yeonjun, your knuckles trembling from your grip on his hoodie. he doesn’t move either, holding on to you so tightly as if you might slip away if he let go.

then you feel it again 一 that feather-light kiss on the crown of your head, lingering for longer this time. then another one, further down on your forehead. yeonjun pulls away to look at you, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, and the ache in your heart gnaws at you even more.

“y/n, i...”

words leave him and the next thing you know, his lips are on yours. he tastes as sweet as you’ve imagined, and you wrap your arms around him to kiss him deeper. the world is spinning again, but for a completely different reason 一 with your body flush against his and his mouth moving roughly against yours, you feel as if every piece of you has been set alight.

you let out a sigh against his lips as he breaks away. he pants slightly, still holding you close, his eyes wide.

“i love you.”

yeonjun is still breathless when he says it. had he said it on any other day, your mind would be full of questions: how long? since when? why are you telling me only now? what happens to us next?

but you don’t have time for questions. instead you lean towards him, meeting those beautiful eyes of his, and whisper, “i love you too.”

you leave a gentle peck on his lips, then another, then it’s his turn to kiss you back. next thing you know his hands are tangled in your hair and you melt into him completely, this new kiss slower than the first yet more desperate. in your last moments you’re going to love him the way you should have when you still had time.

neither of you notice the way the sky darkens to a complete black. the ground shakes again and you hold on to each other.

his warmth is the last thing you ever feel.

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x you #choi yeonjun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt angst #yeonjun angst #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #yeonjun fanfic #bhj originals #bhj's 300 follower event 🖤

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