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poguehearted77 · 6 days ago

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Oh, Baby!

Summary-> Today is Rafe's birthday and you're determined to throw him the best surprise party before the baby comes in a few days.

☆Some more content from the baby steps couple☆

It was a warm summer night, the kind where the air hummed softly with the songs of crickets and a gentle breeze whispered through the trees. The streets were quiet as you and Rafe drove home, the headlights illuminating the road ahead. The stars sparkled in the clear sky above, but they paled in comparison to the anticipation bubbling in your chest.

“I just wish you’d checked to see that the restaurant had space before we came all the way here,” Rafe sighed, his grip firm on the wheel. He glanced over at you, his brow furrowed slightly.

You bit your lip, hiding a smile. You’d already called the restaurant weeks ago and knew they were fully booked. That was the whole point. You needed an excuse to get Rafe dressed up in the nicest clothes the two of you could find without him getting suspicious. It was his birthday, after all, and you wanted tonight to be perfect.

"It was supposed to be one of our final nights together with just the two of us," you murmured, playing your part with feigned disappointment. Your hand rested on the swell of your nine-months-pregnant belly.

The truth was, you’d been planning this for the past month—tirelessly working around Rafe’s attentive nature to keep it a secret. He knew you too well, always noticing the slightest change in your demeanour, and you had to put on the performance of your life.

If he’d caught wind of what you were up to, he’d have put a stop to it immediately. Rafe would’ve thrown a fit if he knew you were doing all this while so close to your due date.

When the two of you finally pulled into the driveway of your generously sized home, Rafe parked the car and came around to your side to help you out, as always. He offered his hand, his protectiveness shining through, and you accepted with a grateful smile.

He makes a teasing remark about your slight waddle, "She's comin' any day now isn't she?" You sigh, "I hope so, but she seems to be getting comfortable." Your eyes glimmer as you watch Rafe unlock the front door. But as soon as the door opened, the quiet night erupted into shouts of “Surprise!”

Rafe’s jaw dropped slightly, and for the first time in a long while, you saw genuine shock in his eyes. The foyer was filled with friends and family, grinning and clapping, balloons crowding the ceiling.

Rafe blinked, then broke into a wide grin, pointing at you. “I knew you were up to something,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

You laughed, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, his other hand gently resting over your baby bump. “Happy birthday,” you whispered, feeling his lips press to your temple in gratitude.

You led everyone through the house to the backyard, and that’s when the real surprise hit. The backyard was transformed into a magical wonderland of twinkling fairy lights strung overhead, long tables set with glowing candles, and cozy seating arranged perfectly under the night sky. It was breathtaking.

Rafe took a slow step forward, his gaze sweeping across the setup, a mix of awe and emotion crossing his face. “Wow,” he said softly, looking down at you before his expression morphed into one of concern. “Please tell me you didn't set this up, Y/n.”

You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling. “Calm down, I made John B and Topper do it,” you admitted with a cheeky grin. Rafe let out a short laugh, his brows raising. “John B and Topper? Together? Without killing each other?”

“Barely,” you teased. “I supervised, don’t worry.”

He was about to respond when a small voice broke through the chatter. “Happy birthday, Uncle Rafe!”

A little whirlwind of blonde curls and bright eyes ran toward him—it was three-year-old JJ in a white frilly dress. Rafe crouched down and scooped her up with ease, laughing as she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

“Thanks, sunshine,” he said, tossing her gently in the air.

As you watched him, surrounded by loved ones, holding little JJ close, and smiling brighter than you’d seen in a while, you felt the weight of your efforts melt away. It was all worth it. This was a night you’d both remember forever.

Maybe you'd be lucky to erase the forming memory of the radiating pain that coursed through your abdomen. You found yourself fisting the hand towels in the guest bathroom after your bladder incontinence had caught up to you during the middle of Rafe's speech.

God, what did you eat today? Your stomach had been hurting ever since you came back from the restaurant even though you never ate there. Sometimes you get a break, other times there's a sharp reminder shooting through you. Of course, you considered the possibility of contractions but you denied it.

There was no way in hell you were letting this baby come out on Rafe's birthday.

There's a knock on the door. "Just a second--!" Your voice is hoarse, the words coming out through clenched teeth. "Y/n? It's Sarah." With a deep breath, you reach for the door, revealing the pleasant face of your sister-in-law.

"Is everything okay? Rafe is looking for you." You nod, "Yep, everything's--" Another one. Your jaw clenches and your eyes close, doing your best to focus on the conversation at hand. By the time your eyes opened, Sarah was sliding past you into the bathroom.

"Why's the floor all wet.." Her eyes slowly trail from the wet tiles back up to you where you were still gripping the towel in your right palm. Oblivious to the gears grinding in her mind. "Oh shit." You shake your head over and over, immediately shutting the door on you both.

"Sarah, No. No! You can't tell anyone. It's Rafe's birthday." She couldn't believe what she was hearing, her brows furrowed, "Are you joking? You're in labour! You have to tell him and you have to get to the hospital like now."

"No, Please! Just give me 20 minutes, then I'll go." She couldn't believe she was actually considering it but the sheer look of desperation in your eyes convinced her.

"Fine, and not one second more or I'll deliver your baby myself." She threatens with a smile but she's a Cameron, she means every word. "I love you!" You whistle as you head upstairs to change into a different dress and meet everyone back outside.

"Baby, where did you go for so long? What's with the outfit change?" Your eyes are briefly distracted by the servers gracefully floating around the yard with the requested entrées. "O-oh, I started to feel a little hot in the other one--so," There's a contraction, not as bad as some of the others but you're able to suppress it and blame it on thirst.

"Here," He gets you a glass of water and helps you into your chair on the side of his at the head of the table. As if you'd forgotten the itinerary of the party you planned yourself, you're almost startled when the slide show of nearly all the images you could find of Rafe throughout the years is displayed on the projector.

He turns in his seat to glance at you, "You did not," It was all too much for him. You're the woman of his dreams, going above and beyond to show him how much he means to you and this was just a small example of proof.

The slideshow is touching, cute, and funny when the images of baby Rafe covered in pasta pop up. Once it's over John B suggests you say a few words. Kelce and his childish antics start a chant "Speech! Speech! Speech!" Your eyes roll, and with a minor struggle, you rise to your feet, Rafe standing beside you.

"Thank you all for coming, and helping me celebrate Rafe's 25th--" Oh boy, this was a big one, your mouth falls open in a silent cry and your right hand claws into the meat of Rafe's upper arm, it's so tight that he leans into it and his face contorts with discomfort and worry.

The electronic music is still playing softly in the background as all eyes are on you. "Y/n, Y/n, Are you--" Your lip is caught between your teeth bearing down with the pain, nodding aggressively. "We're having the baby!?" He panics but a huge smile is etched onto his features. "We're having the baby." You confirm and he hugs you.

The table is filled with cheers and glasses clinking together. "Go! Go!" Sarah shouts, and you both spring into action. At least Rafe does, he nearly leaves you behind with all the nerves running through his system.

Helping you back inside the house before he runs up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time, quickly coming down with the baby bag you'd both prepared weeks ago.

The next hour is a blur, one second you're standing in your living room waiting for Rafe to bring down your things, and suddenly you're in a backless hospital gown being strapped into the hospital bed, hooked up like a computer.

There are IVs, heart monitors, and everything else you could identify from your binge sessions of Grey's Anatomy.

“Mrs. Cameron?” A voice cut through the haze as the door opened. The doctor entered, glancing down at the clipboard in her hands. Her calm expression faltered as she scanned the notes. “Oh, wow,” she muttered under her breath before looking up at you.

“Is... is everything okay?” you asked nervously, gripping the bed’s railing as you shot a glance at Rafe, who was perched anxiously at your bedside.

“Everything’s fine,” the doctor assured you quickly, though her tone carried a note of disbelief. “But I have to say—I’m a little shocked at how far along you are.”

Your stomach dropped. “Far along? What do you mean?”

“You’re already at nine centimetres,” the doctor explained, flipping another page on her clipboard. “You’re practically ready to push.” That is not what you wanted to hear.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Wait—nine? That fast? But I barely knew I was in labour until a few hours ago!” Rafe glances at you in agreement before doing a double take. "A few hours? I thought you just found out at dinner?"

"I knew since we left the restaurant." You coyly admit, and his eyes practically bulge from their sockets. "That was hours ago! Why didn't you tell me?" He seemed almost hurt but his concern overtook it.

"Because it's your birthday, I didn't want the baby to steal your day." He leans up, his gaze softening at your words. "Oh baby, I'd be so lucky to share my birthday with her." His words fall on deaf ears and you pout, eyes glancing at the clock.

10:47

"Well, Mrs. Cameron. It's almost time to start pushing, we're going to transfer you to the delivery room." Everything happened so quickly. Your gaze can hardly focus on anything in the halls as you are pushed past them.

There's one familiar sensation that remained an unchanged variable throughout the whole process. The reassuring hold of Rafe's hand with yours. No matter what, he held on.

When you squeezed his hand so tight with every laborious push. "You're doing good, just a few more pushes and she'll be crowning." Your body throws itself back, defeated. Eyes heavy and your hair sticking to your forehead as you wept.

"I can't, I can't do it. I'm sorry." Rafe's eyes turn mournful, wishing he could take on this pain for you. "Hey, hey. None of that. You're a Cameron now. We get shit done, and you're doing it. You're doing so well, baby. Just keep going, and I'll be right here with you, okay? I love you." He gently moves the hairs sticking to your forehead, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. His words give you the strength to keep going.

"Give us another big push in three, two, one-" Your throat is ripped raw from the pained shouts, but it was so worth it. It’s not long before you finally welcomed your baby girl into the world, at 12:01am.

"She's perfect," Rafe says, in awe of his newborn daughter who's delicately swaddled in those hospital blankets at peace in your hold. She looked up at you with her glassy eyes, lips moving in ways that Rafe could swear were a tribute to you.

"I can't believe she came out of me," It's an untraditional thing for one to say after giving birth but it's how you felt. You were still in disbelief at the whole process. From the day you looked at those two lines on that pregnancy test in St. Tropaz, to the gender reveal on the beach all the way to this very moment.

"You did amazing," Rafe reassures you and only a few moments pass where you enjoy the peace of the new reality of your tiny family. There's a soft knock on the door, and Sarah's head pops in awaiting clearance to be let in.

"Come in," You giggle, so excited to introduce her to her aunt, uncle and cousin. John B's face is overcome with shock and Sarah's with glee while JJ focuses on what she wants.

"Oh my god, she's so precious." Sarah beams as she peers over to get a closer look, and you offer her up into her aunt's hold. "What's her name?" John B is the first to ask, and Rafe grins down at you. "Say hello to, Melody Ava Cameron."

Sarah's eyes immediately misted over, she'd been told about the pleasant encounter you both had at the beach with a very lively toddler, but you knew that wasn't the name that touched her the most. "Melody? You named her after mom?" Rafe nods, a tear slipping from his eye as well.

You knew how much she meant to both of them before she passed, you couldn't think of a better name. Rafe places an arm around his sister as they both admire the baby.

"It's a perfect name, I love it. Congratulations."

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miley1442111 · 6 months ago

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all alone-s.reid

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summary: spencer doesn't want to get hurt, too bad it hurts you in the process

pairing: spencer reid x fem reader

warnings: spencer's a dick in this, reader puts him in his place :)

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You were the new office genius. You’d just joined straight out of the academy, but with your genius, and your experience, you’d been brought straight to the BAU.

What experience, you may ask?

Your psychiatry and psychology degrees, oh, and the eidetic memory, IQ of 190, and Hyperthymesia you had.

And the experience you’d had with a certain serial killer. Your father, Jason O’Neill, had been caught a few months ago, and after that you’d been given a full-time position. You got on well with the team, though one clearly didn’t like you. Dr. Spencer Reid. Apparently he was your equal in intelligence, though you never knew, he refused to speak to you. You probably had a more bubbly personality than the BAU regularly hired, but that had been disproven upon meeting Penelope, the Technical Analyst.

He just didn’t like you. Oh well. It wasn’t going to ruin your life. You didn’t really give a shit.

He gave a shit. He cared far too much.

“Spencer, I’ve got your coffee, extra sugar,” you smiled as you handed out the drinks you’d brought the team from the cafe down the road from the small police station. You handed it to him, not waiting for an answer, he never gave one.

Emily kicked him under the table. “What’s with you two?”

Spencer rolled his eyes and went back to his book. “Nothing.”

“She’s the nicest person on this team Spencer, yet you treat her like she’s just there for decoration.”

“She’s only good for two things, getting coffee, and keeping quiet,” he snapped, not realising you were behind him. You frowned, then hit him over the head with your bag as you were walking past, not sparing him a glance.

Honestly, Spencer was practically in love with you since the second he’d met you. You were perfect, gorgeous smile, always something kind to say, always an interesting fact on your beautiful lips. He thought he could listen to you talk forever. Your voice made his day. Your eyes on his made him feel things he never thought he’d be lucky enough to feel.

But he’d never let his guard down again. Not after Maeve. Never again.

He’d rather be alone, though everyday you became more tempting.

Everyday he wished he could be with you.

Everyday, just like today.

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“Doctor,” Your voice rang through the precinct. “Aaron wants you.”

In recent weeks you’d adopted calling him ‘Doctor’, rather than Spencer. His name from your lips often went straight to his heart, he was a romantic, after all. Now ‘Doctor’ sounded clinical and impersonal. It was maddening.

He didn’t answer, he just stared at his book, making his stand.

“Doctor Reid, Aaron wants you,” You stated, standing beside him. “Reid-”

“Say my name,” he deadpanned, staring at his book, but not reading the words.

“I just did,” you scoffed. “We aren’t school children, go to Aaron.’

You called everyone else by their first name, why not him? He knew the answer of course, but it still didn’t take away from his curiosity. Why had it affected you so much?

“Can you stop being a huge asshole for one day and just treat me like I’m a person and not just something here for you to fuck with? I deserve a spot on this team just like you do,” you boomed, smacking his book out of his hands.

“I don’t think you do,” he said, standing up to his full height.

“Well I guess it’s your lucky day because I’m leaving in a week,” you snarled back, then walked off to go back to the rest of the team.

What? You were leaving?

Spencer caught up to you in 4 quick steps and he pulled you to the side of the corridor, shading you both from prying eyes in a broom closet. “You’re leaving?”

His eyes were frantic and… scared? You’d never seen him look at you with anything other than indifference, so this was quite the change.

“Yes.”

“Why?” He pleaded.

“Why? You are seriously asking why I’m leaving?” you sarcastically sighed. “Gosh, I guess it was that the coffee’s shit, or maybe it was the fact that I work in a hostile working environment!”

“That’s corporate bullshit-”

“No. It’s your bullshit. I have been nothing but kind to you in my few months here and every day it’s the same blank stare and shitty comments. Go fuck yourself Doctor Reid.”

You tried to pry out of the grip he had on your shoulders, but you couldn’t. He stood there, shocked and shameful at his actions.

“I-I’m sorry,” he sighed, letting go of you to run his hands through his hair. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Yeah, you are. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“I’m in love with you,” he admitted.

“Pardon?” You squeaked, jaw-dropped.

“I’m in love with you… a-and I didn’t think it was a good idea because the last time I was involved with someone like that-”

“Spencer, I don’t care. I’m leaving the BAU. For good.”

Spencer’s stomach sank. He was too late. You waited for a minute as he just stared at you. He was trying to process it, realise his mistakes,and find a way to make you stay in a 15 second window.

“Bye Spencer,” you sighed and left him in that broom closet.

All alone.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #bau team #spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds

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aerowolf · 8 months ago

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the mercs realize it's your bday and you didn't tell anyone because your family doesn't do birthdays

I’m so sorry this is a mess between British and American english. I have an American parent and a Canadian one so it messed me up lolll

if didn't include a Merc you wanted, feel free to request and I'll try and add them :]

includes: Miss Pauling & offense classes

cute platonic, gn!reader

warnings: n/a, this is basically all fluff

You'd rather not make a big deal of it being your birthday, even though it is you were taught that birthdays aren't a big deal and your family never really did them.

You kind of wish someone would care but you feel guilty about that so you choose not to tell anyone about it

The only one of these who actually knows it's your birthday is Miss Pauling, who’s seen your personnel files

Miss Pauling

She knows it's your birthday, and instead of ignoring it she decides to at least discreetly make it a good day for you

She arrives on base for a routine inspection, clipboard in hand, but once she's done with the main thing, instead of leaving, she comes to your room

"I saw that it's your birthday today. I don't know if you celebrate, or anything, but, uh, I thought you'd like a gift. Maybe."

She hands you a box, inside are some candy bars and a plush of a bear

"I know it's not exactly the nicest thing, and I know it's kinda... stereotypical... but, y'know, I thought you'd like something. So, happy birthday. From me.” She’s really shy about it, you get the feeling she didn’t--probably still doesn’t--really get to celebrate birthdays either.

She offers you a ride on her motorbike, something nice, on the open road--away from this base for a little while. You accept, taking a seat behind her, enjoying the open air--though it is pretty hot out. You guys talk, just enjoying the time.

She smiles at you as you get back. “Happy birthday. You deserve it.”

You thank her and even give her a hug. It’s nice that you got this for once.

Scout

He has no idea whatsoever that it’s your birthday. He’s interacting with you like usual, teasing you, just hanging out. You’re happy as you talk that day; he’s always good at making you laugh and smile.

At some point he notices that you’re a little down, as much as you may try to hide it, he can tell. You’re his friend, and even though he might act like he doesn’t care sometimes, you know he does. A lot.

You tell yourself you don’t want anything on your birthday, that it’s easier if no one knows, but secretly, you do.

“Hey, what’s up? C’mon, ya know I can tell when something’s wrong.”

You tell him it’s nothing.

“You sure? Really? You’re kinda… I dunno, sadder than usual.” After he asks a few times, you finally come out and tell him. You don’t say much. Just “It’s my birthday.”

“No kiddin’? Well, why didn’t ya tell me?” He comes off pretty strong. You feel kind of apologetic for mentioning it, and look away from him. “Aw, hey. Y’know what--it don’t matter. I’m gonna throw you a party like you ain’t never seen, believe me.”

You try to tell him you don’t want a party--well, you do. Maybe. No you don’t. Well, sure. But not a big one. He’s really sweet and enthusiastic about it. “Someone like you deserves a big birthday--but if you don’t want it, dat’s okay. Ya know, we could just hang out, or somethin’. You n’ me, yeah?”

You tell him you’d like that a lot. You both find a quiet spot in the base where you can just talk. He messes around, too, and pops in a Tom Jones record.

He’s a little shy, a little embarrassed, but he even sings happy birthday to you. He just seems glad no one can hear him. He doesn’t have a gift handy for you, but he ends up scribbling you a quick doodle of him telling you happy birthday. It’s misspelt, but the drawing is cute, and you keep it. “I hope ya had a good day. I’m just sorry I didn’t know sooner.” You tell him that it wasn’t his fault, how could he have known?

After all is done, he gives you an awkward hug. You smile and return it.

Soldier

He’s a little crazy so he’s just hanging around base, today he had the idea to strip and cover himself in honey, so everyone has had to convince him to please not do that, and now he’s just moping around, muttering about how anti patriotic this all is.

You sit next to him and mope as well. Unlike him, no one knows the reason you’re moping. To anyone else’s point of view, you’re just comforting him--for whatever weird reason. But he sees that you’re just as sad as him.

“What’s wrong, maggot? Is there someone who needs to see my fists meet their face?”

You tell him no, no one did anything. You’re a little intimidated by him, and you don’t see much reason to tell him anyways. But it’s nice sitting with a friend.

“If it’s not a person, then… it must be an object! Give it to me and I will destroy it immediately.” He’s being as sweet as he can, you smile and shake your head.

You sit there for a bit, smiling as you watch the other mercs come and go. Today isn’t a bad day, just a little sad. Later, you plan to find some kind of sweet treat to eat alone.

Soldier stands up, at attention, and points at you. “MAGGOT, AS YOUR SUPERIOR AND SENIOR, I ORDER YOU TO TELL ME WHAT IS WRONG!”

With a sad smile and a chuckle you finally tell him.

“Your birthday?” Soldier seems genuinely surprised. He places a hand on his chin and thinks. “We cannot go without celebrating! This is momentous!”

Although you try to protest, he turns to the base, stating to every other merc, “LISTEN UP! IT IS Y/N’S BIRTHDAY AND WE WILL CELEBRATE!”

He makes it his personal mission to decorate for a party that very evening, even gets a cake and everything. He makes every other merc sing happy birthday with him. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

You give him a big hug, and he is surprised at first, but proceeds to give a gentle laugh and hug back.

Pyro

You see Pyro colouring with crayons and coloured pencils on their break, and you sit by them. You don’t really understand what they’re saying a lot of the time, but you enjoy hanging out with them. It’s a long period of silence before you join them in colouring. Regardless of your artistic skills, they’re impressed and encourage you, and are very happy when you show them what you’ve been working on.

After a little while you get kind of bored and sad. You’ve tried to enjoy this day but it’s another bittersweet birthday. You’re happy to hang out with Pyro though, even though they don’t know what day it is.

Pyro notices that you’ve stopped colouring with them, and that you’re looking at the ground instead, messing with the cracks in the floor.

“Huddah hrmmf mmmrph?” You don’t understand what they’re saying exactly, but you smile at them. They seem to be asking what’s wrong, why you stopped, why you seem so sad.

You hesitate for a moment before finally confessing. They seem to mostly understand what you mean, and they lean back, thinking.

After a few seconds, they stand up and help pull you off the floor. They point to their room, and you follow them. It’s an odd combination of scorch marks, colourful drawings, weapons, and art supplies. They lead you to a wardrobe and pull out a box.

Surprisingly, you can see that it's fully wrapped. Did they somehow know it was your birthday? Do they keep these gifts on hand for the mercs?

You won’t get an answer, but they excitedly push it out and offer it to you. “Huddah hmmph!” They sound almost like they are smiling behind the mask. You take the box and open it. It’s got crayons, pencils, and… wow, that’s a drawing of you and them.

You smile, almost ready to tear up, and thank them. You give them a hug, and you notice that they’re hugging you back even harder. Maybe they don’t really understand, but this is sweet.

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dolene · 9 months ago

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TYING YOU TO ME!

summary: nobody knows where the invisible strings could take you to. no one could ever see the threads, but the clues were surely there. you just don't realize it.

four times charles said his happy birthday, one time y/n said it back.

anonymous requested: Hi, sooo since it's my birthday in a couple of days I wanted to request a smau with Charles Leclerc's birthday post for his gf through the years like a childhood friend to lovers kinda thing and the internet is just being obsessed with them.

pairing: charles leclerc x childhood friend!reader

author's note: this is such a sweet request from you nonny! i wish you a happiest and sweetest birthday whenever it is<3

FEBRUARY, 2019

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, and 467,213 others

charles_leclerc It's been a long time since you're becoming my best friend, Y/n. But unfortunately your mama doesn't trust me with your childhood pictures, so she gave me this.

But I wish you the happiest birthday, Mon loulou😉🎂

view all 274 comments

yourusername Since when did you becoming poetic like this?

yourusername But OMG thank you, Cha! I LOVE YOUUUUU

username MON LOULOU DAAAAANGGG

username i need to scream to my pillow she's so adorableeeee

arthur_leclerc Believe it or not, I have more of her embarrassing photos

⤷ charles_leclerc Send it to my phone now

⤷ yourusername You're dead

username i can't believe today is her birthday. happy birthday, y/n

username AWW TOINY Y/NNNNN

landonorris she looks so little (same as today)

oscarpiastri I've never knew this was Y/n until Lily told me it was her. Happy birthday, Y/n. I hope you can be in McLaren next time.

⤷ scuderiaferrari Not until we do it faster.

⤷ mclaren I love to see you try

username she's so adorable 😍

username I wish my best friend does this

FEBRUARY, 2020

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, and 594,355 others

charles_leclerc Wishing the happiest of birthdays to the coolest person i know my entire life🎂😄 ＠yourusername

view all 824 comments

carlossainz55 I bet that she's cooler than you

⤷ charles_leclerc NOBODY is better than the original.

username Shes really cool, now I know why is she called the coolest person he know

⤷ username she got that tiktok style

luisinhaoliveira99 Feliz aniversário!!! 😙😙

mickschumacher Thanks for cropping me off the picture 😔👍🏻

⤷ yourusername Sorryyyyy

username HAPPYYYY BIRTHDAAAAY

username LITERALLY OBSESSED W THEM

username racer bestie + influencer bestie

username imagine being wished every year like this by charles

charles_leclerc added a photo to their story! 3h

caption: Selfie with the birthday girl

FEBRUARY 2021

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, and 639,427 others

charles_leclerc She's a menace. Happy birthday baguette eater.

👤: ＠yourusername, ＠joris__trouche

view all 868 comments

landonorris ooohhhh myyyy

username is this the undiscovered dirty self of THE charles leclerc??

username BAGUETTE EATER???????

username idk who's the menace here

yourusername STOPPP😭😭😭

username I can't believe that he is this dirty sometimes

username and lando is the fastest on liking this one yet is making me cry

yourusername YOU PROMISE WOULDN'T POST THIS

⤷ charles_leclerc Sorry, can't help it, Arthur said i need to post this

⤷ arthur_leclerc THE BETRAYAL

FEBRUARY, 2022

charles_leclerc

liked by lewishamilton, and 882,490 others

charles_leclerc Still be the coolest and the nicest person I've ever had, and now she is my girlfriend. Happy birthday, loulou. ti amerò per sempre.

👤: ＠yourusername

view all 1,246 comments

yourusername anch'io ti amo per sempre😭😭😭😭😭

username Loulou pronounced lulu, that means i'm sleepy so let's sleep and be delulu

lilyzneimer Ahhh happy birthday, sweetheart!

georgerussell63 Happy happy birthday Y/n. have a visit to London, so that Carmen and I could make you some muffins 😉

carlossainz55 Happy birthday Y/n, don't forget to join me and Isa tomorrow!

isahernaez Have the happiest of birthday, Y/n

username 😭😭😭 I still can't believe they're really together

username when will i date my best friend like this

⤷ username DONT GIVE ME IDEAS

FEBRUARY, 2023

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, and 724,560 others

charles_leclerc A year has passed since the time that I asked you to be my girlfriend. Joris said that he took more, but unfortunately the camera took a swim, and that leave us with this grainy picture.

And anyways, I wish you a marvelous birthday to my beloved girlfriend, ＠yourusername. never change.

view all 899 comments

yourusername I LOVE YOU TOOOO CHARLES I'M CRYING SO HARD RN

joris__trouche 😉😉👍🏻

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username i need to have it like them because if i'm not i'm going to explode

username EVERY 😭😭 FUCKING 😭😭 YEARS😭😭

username i wanna cry i want this so much

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username joris when i catch you joris

carmenmmundt Happy birthday to you, Y/n!

nicholaslatifi Oh you Lovebirds... 🥹

OCTOBER 16TH, 2024

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, and 859,437 others

yourusername Who knew that this tiny man is once my best friend?

Even though I got my hair slicked back, putting up my fakest smile, and wearing the black dress you hate; I'm still amazed that you were still there for me whenever i could count on you.

And now that you're my boyfriend, I cannot be more grateful for that. Happy birthday, big boy. Je t'aime pour toujours.❤️❤️

view all 682 comments

leclerc_pascale 🥳🥳🥳

username WHO'S CUTTING ONION HERE

carlossainz55 I've noticed that you both are doing great with words now, happy birthday, Cabrón.

username a lil spicy on the eyes don't you think

username HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLES😭😭😭

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username I've had enough, I need to date my best friend

username i'm not yet moved on from charles's birthday wishes to y/n, and now i'm screwed by thinking about this

lewishamilton Happy birthday, mate

scuderiaferrari Have the happiest birthday to you, Champ! ✨❤️

#duhyork's artwork ৎ #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x female reader

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annie-creates · 2 months ago

Text

Almost four hundred years

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x sister reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 900

Note: So I usually don't introduce new characters on a whim but I've been so obsessed I literally jumped out of the shower for this, so I just had to write it right away even when it's not that good. And to my possibly new Marvel/witchy/Agatha fans who haven't seen me before, hi, I hope you like this and please check out my blog for more very demure, very cutesy and most of all very lesbian fanfictions I write.

When you got on the Witch’s road, you didn’t know exactly what you expected to get out of it. You weren’t hungry for power, you were doing alright for yourself and there were seemingly no problems to be fixed or mysteries to be answered in your case. But the thought of belonging somewhere some time again was taunting, almost mocking you. You knew building an actual lasting coven with Agatha by your side was impossible, but still you hoped to have something that at least reminded of home.

As you left today’s trial behind and healed the teen’s wounds, you set up a campfire gathering around, using whatever was available to sit on. In your opinion, the ground covered in leaves was good enough. The kid was resting and Agatha was nowhere to be found, which gave room for an actual friendly conversation with the rest of the witches. One by one they shared stories and funny encounters, keeping the mood up, and you quite enjoyed their quirky company.

“Y/n, what’s your problem with the kid?” Lilia asked suddenly, all of them noticing you weren’t exactly fond of his chirpy personality. “Why are you so cold to him?”

“Nonsense, I’m great with children,” you emphasized, slightly offended.

“Come on now,” Jen forced with an amused smile.

“Well first of all, he’s unhealthily obsessed with Agatha and that in itself is a red flag if you ask me,” you shrugged. “And anyone who likes her this much just doesn’t know her enough.”

“Well for how long have you known her?” Alice reiterated.

“Almost four hundred years,” you admitted with a bit of shyness.

“How come?” asked Teen joining you at the fire without you noticing. “What’s your problem with her anyway. People change, she’s not the same witch she was in Salem.”

“Not this much, no. She killed my mom… my family, my coven, everyone I knew at the time,” even after all this time it was hard admitting everything that happened, partly because you blamed yourself for at least half of it. “And unfortunately, she’s my sister.”

“Wait so you’re… Y/n Harkness?” Alice questioned.

“Yeah,” sometimes that name scared even you yourself. “And believe me there isn’t a day I didn’t wish I was there back then to stop her. But at the same time… she’s my sister, you know? And she wasn’t always bad… she was a good witch, corrupted by her powers too young,” you turned to Teen. “It’s like having an emo kid, you think it’s just a phase and fun and the next day they’re smoking pot and running around at 1 a.m. playing Batman.”

“You think dark magic is just a phase?” Jen laughs.

“Well who hasn’t ever tried a bit of it, right?” you brush it off with a guilty smile.

“Wow you’re acting like I’m the only one wicked here. I clearly remember you set your ex-boyfriend’s car on fire… with him in it,” Agatha snaps back as she joins your circle.

“Hey, that was your idea! And I was only a 100, you led me to it,” at your response she snorts and gets up again to rather get a walk.

With a sigh you get up off the ground to follow her this time, which wasn’t any hard of a task. Your relationship with Agatha was complicated at the very least, but to you, she was still the only family you had left, even if it was her fault. Gently brushing her clearly tired shoulder she refuses to look at you.

“Agatha… I know I haven’t always been the nicest to you, but you’re my family, I love you. And I want you to know I will always stand by your side, even if I don’t agree with you,” after all you would be a little lost in this world without her.

Giving into your comforting words she turns around embracing you in a tight hug. It was hard being mad at you, after all she was the one who always caused the problems in your relationship. No matter how much you wanted to talk sense into her, she was always selfish and short sighted. As she hugged you, she felt herself finally catching the first break in at least the last five years. You could feel all the trauma and exhaustion from the past few days getting just the littlest bit lighter when you shared it together.

“I miss him so much,” she admitted into your shoulder.

“I know. I miss him too,” you assure her, her lost son clearly being a constant on her mind lately.

“I don’t know if I can save him,” Agatha whispered with vulnerability you didn’t see often.

You thought of something comforting to say. „I know you will try everything you can to get him back,” you kissed her cheek lightly.

Holding onto her, you didn’t feel completely lost in the wide world, and you realized no matter how bad she screwed up, you’ll always be her light, just like she was your torch, hurtful when held too close for too long but helpful, warm and comforting at the same time. You didn’t know if there was any chance her son was still somewhere at least a little alive, but you knew that if there was one parent in the world who would move mountains and rivers to find their child, it was Agatha.

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness fluff #agatha harkness x you #kathryn hahn #fanfiction #fanfic #agatha #agatha all along fanfic #agatha all along spoilers #kathryn hahn x reader #kathryn hahn fanfiction #kathryn hahn x you #agatha harkness x sister #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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seospicybin · 11 months ago

Text

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

EXTRA HOT REUNION

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist.

Synopsis: You and Minho are having a Too Hot To Handle reunion with other contestants to catch up on the life after the retreat. (7,2k words)

Author's note: Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoy my gift to you ❤️

HOST: Welcome to the Too Hot To Handle reunion! Today, we're going to get all the updates on your favorite couples and what happens once they return to the real world. And I know, you're all dying to know if the couples are still together or not but in the meantime, let's find out if our sexy group of people remember all the times they broke the rules.

AGNES: Uh, I did a lot [cringes]

LUCA: I wish I had broken more rules. [Laughs]

YOU: The kiss Agnes and I did with Jack.

JAI: [Counts with fingers] There's just a lot of 'em.

BRYAN: Uhm... I'm the accountant, remember?

MINHO: The sex?

YOU: Then I broke more rules with Minho.

AGNES: Oh, the kiss with Jack!

JACK: Just once but I kissed the two hottest girls in the retreat [grins]

HOST: Here's the couple who broke half of those rule breaks and managed to win the show. Welcome back, lovebirds!

MINHO: [Waves hand]

YOU: Hi, gorgeous! [Smiles]

HOST: You guys won. Congratulations! [Claps]

YOU: Thanks, girl!

MINHO: Thank you.

HOST: So, what are you guys doing with the money? Are you guys sharing it? Or maybe... saving it for the wedding? [Chuckles]

MINHO: I make her keep all the money.

YOU: He insists that I handle it.

HOST: Uh-oh. I sense something wrong. What is it? Tell us all about it...

MINHO: [Shrugs]

YOU: Ugh!

MINHO: We were supposed to go on this trip together.

YOU: [rolls eyes]

HOST: Girl, I can see you holding back. Spill!

YOU: [Sighs] Well, since I'm taking care of the money, I thought it would be nice to go on a trip together with the money we've won. On the day we were supposed to leave, we had an argument so yeah...

HOST: Oh, no [frowns]

YOU: I booked the flights, the Airbnb... I have to cancel all of that because he canceled last minute like... [exhales air]

HOST: Minho, you want to add to that?

MINHO: That's all true. We argued on the day of the flight and I canceled.

YOU: And I texted him, you know, he could have still come, we could sort things out face to face but no, he didn't reply to any of my texts.

HOST: If I were you, I would have still gone on that vacation.

YOU: Honestly, I was looking forward to that trip, I want to spend time with him and have fun... [sighs] I was a little heartbroken by that.

HOST: Just to clarify... are you still together or not?

YOU: I'm just going to let it out of my chest that I... I will always have love for Minho and I support him, I'll always be attracted to him. I—

HOST: I'm sorry, girl but you have to hold it right there and we'll get back to you later.

HOST: If there's one thing that the villa proves is that people are complicated and one person knows this more than most... it's Zara!

ZARA: [Blows kisses] Hi, hello! That's actually the nicest way to put it, it's complicated [laughs]

HOST: Let me tell you, I was sad to see you got eliminated [pouts]

ZARA: Aww... but that's the thing, I came home not feeling sad at all, and to feel that, I usually have to go out with friends and have a few drinks. But I was sitting at my home thinking of what Lana taught me and what I'd learned... [smiles] It was all a good life lesson.

HOST: What made you feel that way about your elimination?

ZARA: I don't know, I woke up feeling like I learned enough in the retreat, obviously, I didn't want to keep hurting myself and get myself into more drama... [inhales] it's for the best.

HOST: Are you seeing anyone at the moment?

ZARA: Yeah and he's amazing, he's sweet and fun and he's just as obsessed with me as I do for him [chuckles]

HOST: I love that, yeah. You just feel like want to eat him, right?

ZARA: [Laughs]

HOST: But in regards to what happened to you and Bryan, have you spoken to each other ever since? Are you on good terms?

ZARA: He sent me some texts once the show ended but that's just that [thinly smiles] let's just leave it at that.

HOST: It was fun catching up with you but I have to go and talk to Agnes and Jai.

ZARA: Send my love for them [Blows kisses]

HOST: And I am sending you my love. Cheers, babe!

HOST: I cannot wait to find out if they're still horny for each other, it's one of my favorite couples, Jai and Agnes!

AGNES: Hi, hi! [Makes smooching sounds]

JAI: G'day! [Grins]

HOST: I never knew I missed that grin of yours, Jai! [Chuckles]

JAI: I know [grins] I'm doing it for you.

HOST: Shush it, boy! Your girl is here!

AGNES: I'm very aware of how flirtatious my man could be. But I'm watching you [squints eyes]

JAI: [Holds both hands up]

HOST: Tell us what happened after the show. Are you guys still naughty and horny?

JAI: Oh, yes.

AGNES: [Laughs]

JAI: She stayed with me for a while, back when I was still having a roommate and he asked me if we were alright. We kept going at it that it concerned him.

AGNES: Oh, my God!

HOST: Oh! You two are just so passionate [laughs]

AGNES: [Nods] [giggles]

JAI: We are!

HOST: Now, for the most important question, are you guys still together or not?

JAI: We had a little break then we just kind of... found a way back to each other.

AGNES: [smiles] We are still together. Yay!

HOST: Oh, thank Goodness!

JAI: A month ago, is it? We took a trip together and eventually met her sister and her family.

AGNES: It was unplanned! [Laughs] [shows hand] There's no ring yet, everyone.

HOST: Jai? Any plans to put a ring on it then?

AGNES: [Laughs]

JAI: Uh... to be continued?

HOST: It's been lovely, you guys. I hope you two stay happy.

AGNES: And horny?

HOST: Yes [laughs] Thank you and see you [blows kisses]

HOST: Before we get to the final interview, the guests are sharing their best moments in the villa.

AGNES: Oddly enough, I missed the dressing room, I guess that's because we gossip so much in there [giggles]

JACK: The kiss, obviously [laughs]

LUCA: The first party in the villa. That was... just wild and so much fun.

MAISIE: The final date I had with Luca was just romantic, probably the nicest date I ever had.

YOU: It's all the times Sabine and I hang out in the pool. Then there's also the time when Minho said he likes me, with the cushion and everything [laughs] that was just so special.

BRYAN: Just having with the guys, I guess, we were fooling around a lot, just lots of laughs.

HOST: Finally, we have come to the most awaited moment. Let me take a deep breath first [inhales] [exhales] Okay, we're ready now.

YOU: Where were we? [Laughs]

MINHO: The canceled trip and you were sad about it.

YOU: Yes, that... we had arguments like that not once or twice, I think that's just our love language [laughs]

HOST: That's kind of sexy, actually.

YOU: At that time, I just knew I had to be the one putting on the big girl pants, again [rolls eyes] if he didn't want to come to me then I'll just come to him.

HOST: Oh, my God! Is it like one of those movie scenes where the girl chasing the guy—

YOU: yeah, it's pretty much like that but the problem was... it was around Christmas and you know how hard it is to get a flight during holidays, it was a nightmare but I went through all that to see him.

HOST: And...?

YOU: It was cold and snowing, I dragged behind me, and knocked on his door, expecting that his face would light up when he saw me...

HOST: Oh, no, I sense a 'but' coming...

MINHO: I was just telling you to stop knocking [shrugs]

YOU: That's what he did, he scolded me for knocking on his door.

HOST: It keeps getting worse... I don't think I want to hear the rest.

MINHO: We're still together, we made up that day.

HOST: Oh, thank you Minho. I was close to having a cardiac arrest [clutches chest]

YOU: [Smiles] I didn't mean to scare anyone, sorry. We're still together, we still argue sometimes but we're still together, thank God!

HOST: That's good to hear so what are the plans now? Besides trying to be civil with each other [laughs]

YOU: Oh, before I forget, Minho also said the L word that day [giggles]

HOST: What? How could you hide it from it?

YOU: We were exchanging Christmas presents and he casually dropped the L bomb.

MINHO: Casually?

YOU: Honey... [laughs] I didn't say I don't like it. See? [Sighs] We need a couple counseling.

HOST: That's not a bad idea [chuckles]

YOU: I think it was special that there were only the two of us, it was intimate and heartfelt, and it couldn't be more perfect [smiles]

HOST: Minho, that... I didn’t know you were such a gentle guy.

MINHO: I've been meaning to say it, I just... didn't have the right time to say it.

YOU: Because we're always arguing.

HOST: [Laughs] I love that you guys complete each other's sentences.

YOU: I know, that's why I love us. That, and also because the make-up sex is just... [moans] [thumbs up]

HOST: Ugh, okay, you got me jealous now. I'll leave you two back to arguing then [laughs] Best wishes to you two, my loves! [Blows kisses]

HOST: It's been a blast catching up with all the casts of Too Hot To Handle Season 2. Thank you so much for watching, see you next time!

LAST CHRISTMAS

"I don't chase, I attract."

You say those words out loud and manifest them to the world when you meditate in the morning but here you are, getting off the plane to chase a guy who canceled your planned trip at the last minute and not replying to your calls or texts.

You might have attracted him but nobody tells you that you have to chase him around too.

The layers of clothes that should have shielded you from the cold only make your body hot and soon drenched in sweat.

Why there are so many stairs? Why Minho has to live up on the hill? Why is your suitcase so heavy? Why did you pack so many clothes? Why are you here at all?

Despite the fatigue that slowly taking over you, you manage to conquer the last flight of stairs and arrive at his house.

After hours of bustling through the airport and the traffic, not to mention, dragging your luggage through the street, you're aware of how you look and it's not how you want Minho to see you when he opens the door.

But he should be appreciative of your intentions to come here and surprise him.

Right?

Can't believe you have second thoughts when you're already standing right in front of his door, why couldn't you have these thoughts before you got on the plane?

You throw away your worries and stop thinking altogether, your hands start knocking on the door. Once, twice... no one opens the door.

Oh, God? What if he's not home? What if—

You keep knocking on his door in case he didn't hear you the first two times. Your knocking is almost turning into a banging when he finally pulls the door open.

Minho stands there and looks at you with your hand hanging mid-air.

"You can stop knocking now," he says, scolding you for the aggressive knocking.

You don't expect confetti or cake or grand entrance music, but not this either, just you and him, looking at each other in silence.

Another moment passes and Minho opens the door wider, "Why are you just standing there? It's cold, get in!" He scolds you again.

It's only been a few minutes but he has scolded you twice already and weirdly, you obey him, getting into his house, pulling your luggage behind you.

Something is beeping from inside the house and Minho runs to check it, you allow yourself to go further inside. You take off your coat and purse, putting them on top of your suitcase before continuing to look around his house.

It's not small, not big either and it's obvious that he keeps it tidy and clean. You expect nothing less than that.

It's like seeing a movie scene, except that it's real. Minho looks exceptionally gorgeous in his dark sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and one hand that is busy stirring something in a pot.

"Go wash your hands!" He orders.

You're too deep in your daydream to listen to him the first time and only get what he said the second time.

"Dinner is almost ready," he adds, closing the pot with a lid and then turning off the stove.

"Where's the—"

"The door behind you," he answers your unfinished question.

You're too tired to bicker with him and the smell of the soup he's cooking is appetizing, making your stomach rumbling in hunger.

Is it why Minho is not that happy to see you? You look horrible with your eyes looking dark and heavy with exhaustion, your hair is greasy and stuck to your forehead.

There's no time to dig into your suitcase to get your toiletry bag so you do everything to make yourself look presentable, wash your face, and brush your hair with your fingers, hoping that it's enough for now.

Minho has already set everything on the dining table when you return from the bathroom, looking at the food he's serving, your stomach is getting impatient on being filled with some home-cooked meals.

"This looks good," you say, taking a seat on the dining table.

He doesn't say anything to your compliment but goes to the kitchen to bring back a pitcher of water, then sits opposite you.

Minho immediately starts digging into his food and as much as you want to do the same, you're hoping to hear something from him other than commands.

"Do you perhaps... want to say something to me?" You carefully say.

He continues eating, taking a few things from different plates and eating them with a spoonful of rice.

"Like... 'oh, what a nice surprise!' or 'I'm happy to see you, honey'," you recite a few lines you wished to hear him saying yet he seems to enjoy his food too much to pay attention to what you're saying.

You softly sigh and pick up your spoon, "A hug would be nice," you mumble.

He glances up from his bowl of rice and looks at you, "You must be hungry. Eat!"

You cave in, obeying him again, and eat the food just like he ordered. Maybe because you were hungry, you feel less upset now that your stomach is filled.

You help with the dishes after dinner, drying your hands with a towel once you're finished then refill your glass with more red wine before leaning against the counter, watching Minho slicing up fruits, he looks so relaxed but maybe because he's in his element, in his own place.

"You're different at home," you mutter, then take a small sip of your wine.

He glances at you for a second before focusing back on the task in hand, the hand gripping the knife showcasing the evident veins on his forearm.

"Off-guard," you point out.

He pauses cutting an apple then looks at you, "Should I be on guard?"

To other people, Minho may seem like he's trying to pick a fight with you but that's just how he communicates, a bit snarky with a whole lot of nonchalance in it.

It's a good thing that you've been with him long enough to know how to handle him. You put your wine glass away and smile, "You're the one holding a knife, I should be the one on guard."

He smirks hearing your words and it took you this long to make him do that.

"So... will you put the knife down so you can kiss your girlfriend who came all the way to see you?" You sweetly ask, tilting your head to the side and batting your eyelashes at him even though you're not sure these flirting tricks would work on him.

You see that he loosens the grip around the knife and you come closer to him, "That's it, easy, easy..." you playfully say.

You take his other hand and let the knife drop onto the cutting board, turning him to face you. Holding his eyes in a gaze, you slide your hands up his arms then reunite them on the nape of his neck.

"I missed you," you softly mutter but your heart is close to shattering.

"So much," you say all of those words out while deeply looking into his dark brown eyes as they stare down into yours.

"Do you miss me?"

Minho hates it when you're insecure like this but you can't help it, it's just happens when you care so much about someone so let's hope he still knows that.

Then he leans in and kisses you, answering your question with a fiery kiss that melts your worries away until the only thing that remains is the warm feeling he brings with those lips.

When he pulls away, you forget the reason why you ever doubted him.

He then rests his hand on your back, he then slowly and deliberately blinks his eyes before saying, "I missed you too."

It's nice to hear that you're not the only one suffering from the longing. You smile knowing that he thought of you when you weren't here with him even though you're sure not as many times as you thought of him.

"Okay, good, the feeling is still mutual," you awkwardly say with a dry chuckle.

What can you say? Dating Minho is not for the faint of heart, it takes a lot of patience and courage, and it takes... a lot of things.

But is he worth it? The answer is Minho worth everything and more.

The shower helps you get rid of the stress that’s been clinging onto you and you come out refreshed, not feeling tired at all. If anything, you feel excited to spend the rest of the night with Minho, catching up on a lot of things.

Before that, you make yourself presentable this time, putting on your night dress and drying your hair real quick. You notice the toiletry bag Minho brought to the villa is on the sink and it seems like he packed it recently. You shrug it off, keeping your skincare routine brief, impatiently wanting to join Minho on his bed.

On your way to the bedroom, you also notice that he packed a suitcase in his closet, you wonder if he’s planning to go somewhere soon.

Minho is sitting on his bed reading a book, doing it so elegantly like he’s in a furniture TV ad.

“Are you going somewhere?” You get on the bed and lay on your stomach facing him.

“Huh?” He asks without looking away from his book.

You peek over to see the book he’s reading, from the cover you can see that it’s either a mystery, thriller, or horror book, it could be all of that combined.

“I saw your suitcase, packed,” you tell him.

He lowers his book to look at you, “unpacked, you mean,” he says.

Ah, that explains it but looking at how he keeps his things in his house tidy, there’s no way he lets his things stay in his suitcase for too long.

“You should dry your hair. You’ll catch a cold,” he says nonchalantly yet oozing with affection.

This is why you love him, he’s hot and cold, always keeping you on your toes, dating him is one endless thrilling ride.

“I just didn’t dry the end,” you tell him.

The talk about the suitcase reminds you of something. You roll over to the side of the bed and open your suitcase, taking two gift boxes you actually prepared for tomorrow. You bring them over to the bed, sitting next to Minho and place the smaller box first onto his lap.

“Merry Christmas,” You say with a bright smile on your face.

Minho raises an eyebrow at you then glares down at the gift on his lap, “What is it?”

“Your Christmas present from me,” you simply answer.

He seems way too calm for someone who receives a gift from his girlfriend and not sure you’re going to get used to this.

“Open it!” you impatiently say because he keeps observing the box and doing nothing to find out what’s inside.

He finally takes the lid off and sees the bracelet inside. You’re smiling as he takes it out to observe it. You hurriedly help him putting it around his wrist.

“Do you like it?” You ask once you clasped the ends together.

“Did you buy it with the prize money?” He asks with a sly grin.

Why he’s making it hard for you? You must admit that Minho makes you realize that you have a lot of patience in you. You take a deep, deep sigh and put on a big smile for him.

“I’m glad you like it and you’re very welcome,“ you respond, not going to make this supposed-to-be-a-heartfelt-moment into an argument.

It’s time to hand him the second box, instead of putting it on his lap, you drop it right on his crotch as a way to get back to him. He doesn’t flinch but pulls the box closer to his chest before opening it. You put your hand on top of the lid, stopping him from opening it.

“It’s not for you,” you tell him.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Then why did you give it to me?”

“Because I know you don’t have a Christmas present prepared for me so I got you one,” you explain.

It takes him a moment to process your words, “So, you bought this for me to gift to you?”

“Yes,” you answer without a beat.

He bursts into laughter and the box is shaking along with his body as he laughs, “So it- this one for you?”

You take the box from him and smile at him, “Thank you for the present, honey,” you say, then place a quick peck on his lips.

You put on an act, pretending not to know what’s inside the box and slowly uncovering it, taking the lid off with low exciting squeals coming out of your parted mouth. You tear through the wrapping paper and gasp at the sight of the content.

“Oh, my God! Honey…” You coo at him.

You take the pair of lingerie out of the box and show it to him, “This is so beautiful!” You exclaim with excitement even though you were the one who bought it.

“You like it?” He’s slyly smiling as he asks you.

“Are you kidding me? I love it!” You dramatically ask, clutching the gift close to your chest.

You lean in close and tilt your head to the side, “Ugh! You know me so well,” You sneer, then peck his lips.

“I’m glad you like it,” He coyly asks.

You put everything into the box and sigh, “I wanted to put them on and show them to you but…”

You put the lid back onto the box, excessively raising your shoulders, and slump them down as you let out another dramatic sigh, “I’m not in the mood.”

Minho snorts and puts away the boxes, stacking them on the bedside table, “Yeah, you’d better rest, you must be tired.”

And Minho always picks the worst time to be considerate towards you, you roll your eyes and stomp your feet as you walk back to your suitcase, tossing the lingerie into your suitcase and angrily shut it.

“But if you’re not tired, I would love to see you in them,” he says with a devilish smile dancing on his beautiful face.

Hate that you melt right away to his sweet consolidation, your foot is tapping the floor as you pretend to consider his request.

“Well… if you insist,” you say, grabbing the lingerie back from your suitcase.

You’re giggling as you walk to Minho’s closet, changing out of your night dress and putting the lingerie on. As you’re changing, you see Minho’s backpack sitting next to his “unpacked” suitcase. You don’t mean to snoop but it’s open, you can see what’s inside. Using your fingers, you pry it open wider and see that he has a plane ticket clamped between his passport, you reach down to take a look at it when he calls from you from the bedroom.

It feels as if you got caught stealing, you scramble to leave the closet and Minho is putting something into his bedside drawer when you come back. He looks at you, confused to see you standing in a silk robe that comes with the lingerie.

“That’s not the same as what I bought for you,” he playfully says, sitting on the edge of the bed facing you.

You come up to him and stop right in front of him, “Jeez, Minho! You’re not a kid anymore, unwrap your gift yourself,” you tell him with a cheeky smile.

It’s a good thing that he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating right now and it’s beating faster when he looks up, staring into your eyes as his hands reach for your silk robe, untying it until they part open.

You do the rest, sliding the silk robe down your arms and letting it fall onto the carpeted floor. You take a final step, closing the gap between you and him.

He places his hands on each side of your waist, his fingers teasing the thin straps of the lacy underwear but his eyes never stray away from yours even for a moment

“So…?” You curiously ask since he’s not saying anything the moment he sees them on you.

He glides his hands up to your back and draws you close until his lips land on your abdomen, inhaling your scent as he kisses it, making you flutter inside. After a while, he glances up at you and says, “Glad I bought it.”

That sends you into a laughing fit and at the same, he pulls you until you both collapse onto the bed.

A breathless gasp escapes your parted mouth as Minho inserts his fingers inside you, he uses two digits to find that spot that makes you let out another gasp, louder, almost inaudible.

He’s hovering above you as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace and his face is so calm, a contrast to your state: a moaning mess under him.

He presses a kiss on you with tongue and teeth clashing in your mouth, his kisses are hungry, it feels as if he wants to eat you whole.

“Oh…” You moan again, feeling his fingers curl inside you.

Minho then drags his mouth down your chest, using his free hand he yanks down the cup of your bra just so he can suck on your nipple and leave it soaked and wet with his saliva. He continues his trail of wet kisses down your body and he stops with his head hanging between your legs, watching your eyes fluttering as he keeps pumping his fingers.

He pulls your underwear to the side and keeps it there, without wasting another second, he plants his mouth on your cunt, not caring how wet it is. He lifts his head for a moment, using the tip of his tongue to trace your folds and gently, circling your clit that is pulsating with so much desire.

Minho dives down into your wetness again and this time, he lands right on your clit and sucks hard on it.

“Oh, fu-“You can’t even finish your profanity, your voice is shaking and so are your legs.

You slip your hands into his hair, tugging at it as he keeps on sucking and it’s a fruitless effort to try to stop him, the more you try, the harder he sucks on your clit and the faster he pumps his fingers, making you overwhelmed with pleasure.

The only conclusion is Minho won’t stop until you

“I’m- oh, I’m cumming…” you whine, helplessly tugging at his hair.

He hovers above you again but now, he slowly puts his body on top of you, pinning you as he presses kisses on your lips, making you dizzy as he can’t stop kissing you until you run out of breath.

“Honey…” you sigh as you gently push his chest away.

You smile at him and put your hand on the back of his head, wanting to keep him close to you. As you catch your breath, you allow yourself to take a moment to enjoy this moment with him, placing a sweet kiss on his lips and then letting out a low sigh as you pull away.

“Gosh…how I missed you!” You pour out all of the emotions you’ve been keeping inside you and seal the hole in your heart with a kiss that yet again, takes your breath away.

It’s time to show him how much your body misses him. You pull the hem of his sweater and take it off of him to continue kissing him. Slowly, you roll him to the side until he lays next to you and overlaps half of his body with yours.

Minho lets you have the pleasure of doing whatever you want to him, he puts his hands over his head as your hand goes lower and slips it under his sweatpants, palming his member before letting it out.

You glance down to see how his cock is hardening in your hand, “Oh, he’s excited to see me,” you playfully mutter to him.

“What are you going to do then?” He coyly asks.

“Mmh…” you delightfully sigh as you pretend to think of an answer all the while your thumb is circling the tip of his cock.

“I just have so many ideas,” you answer him with a seductive tone.

To execute your ideas, you first get rid of his sweatpants then sit on his thick thighs. You seductively smile at him as you take hold of his cock in your hand again, slowly stroking it with your clothed cunt only inches away from it.

You both wanted it but what’s the fun in giving in to the temptations right away?

His cock is swollen and hard, so ready for you and you are just as eager to take him but refrained yourself. Instead of that, you lean down to lick the tip of his cock with your tongue. The second time, you place a lick from the base up to the tip and then stroke it again.

“How you like that?” you tease him.

Minho doesn’t say anything, he remains calm but his body tells you otherwise, not only his cock, his body reddens all over, his chest, his ears, his cheeks… he’s completely turned on.

You tease him by rubbing his cock to your clothed core, “Mmh… yeah,” you hum in pleasure.

To tease him more, you put his cock inside your underwear, soaking it with your essence as you start grinding on him, unknowingly teasing yourself too in the process.

The yes he’s giving you… oh, it’s so intense, so full of lust, he looks at you like you’re the sexiest thing he ever laid his eyes on, making you feel so wanted, and admired. You suddenly feel a charge of confidence surging all over you and you lean down, kissing him with so much passion until you drain all the air in your lungs.

“Screw this!” you mutter.

Carefully, you push his cock inside you and ease yourself down, taking him little by little until he’s fully sheathed inside you. You just sit there to adjust yourself to his size, closing your eyes as your hands start touching yourself.

Minho gets his hands on you too, he places them on your thighs and glides them up the sides of your body. You take his hands, using them to cup your breasts and fondle them together. You’re lowly moaning as he squeezes on them.

Minho only stops just to pull you close so he can kiss you, putting his arms around you to not let you go and without warning, he starts bucking his hips into you. You can tell he’s smirking against your lips while you let out a broken moan.

“That’s not-oh, not fair!” you mumble yet pressing another kiss on him.

Minho insists on you keeping the lingerie on, he ends up being the one taking it off of you and tossing it onto the bedroom floor. He made you climax twice already but Gosh, looking at him passionately making love to you, you can already tell you’re going to climax for the third time.

“Oh, my God! You feel so good,” You murmur into his shoulders with your fingers clawing his back.

Minho crashes his lips on you, deepening his kiss as he thrusts harder into you. He can sense that you’re about to cum again, he adds intensity to his thrusts and goes as shallow as possible.

Your eyes are screwed shut, feeling the knot inside you keep tightening, getting close to your-

Minho slows down, knowing that you just cum around him and the way he kisses, it’s so gentle as if he knows that you’re already overly stimulated.

You hold him close as you come down from your high, returning his kisses while keeping him inside you.

“You’re not going to stop, are you?”

You brush his hair back with your fingers, putting all the hair covering his face and holding his jaw, “Don’t stop, honey,” you whine.

Nothing gets him off than hearing how needy you are for him. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist and pull him closer, “I don’t want you to stop until you cum inside me,” you whisper into his ear.

That seems to work as planned, Minho picks up the pace of his thrusts, harder and deeper, giving what you both wanted.

You give up on holding in your moans, you let them spill out of your parted mouth and as he gets closer to his release, you press a haste kiss on his mouth.

“Want you to cum inside me, honey,” you whine again.

You have to pause a few times as he mercilessly pulsates his hips against you and the bed creaks along to his movements.

“Oh, please, please!” you sigh.

“Minho, please!”

At this point, you can’t tell if you’re begging him to stop or keep going, the pain and pleasure start to blur into one. You hold onto his shoulders with fingers digging into this flesh and forming crescent marks on his warm, honey skin.

It takes Minho a few more thrusts to finally cum inside you, releasing all of his seed inside you as he collapses on top of you. You embrace him, holding him with so much love, and kiss him with all of your heart until it quakes inside your chest.

Minho hastily kisses your lips, then drags his mouth close to your ear, you’re already drowsy and tired from the day that you barely can keep your eyes open anymore. You can hear him mutter something into your ear but when you’re about to tell him to repeat it, you fall asleep instead.

"Honey, wake up!"

If it isn't because of the hand squeezing your asscheek, you wouldn't have budged from your sleep. When you try to open your eyes, they are heavy and you feel like taking another hour of sleep.

Then Minho bites at your arm, making you jolt on your bed in reaction.

"Minho!" You sharply gasp.

"Wake up!" He says again, now slapping at your ass cheek.

Your feet are kicking the duvet as you whine like a fussy kid, "It's too early."

You turn over on the bed, lying on your side to face him, and croak, "What time is it?"

"One."

"One a.m?"

Minho presses a kiss on your shoulder then gets up from the bed, "Come on, wake up!"

He walks out of the bedroom and leaves the door ajar. You force yourself away and rub your eyes before opening them.

The daylight is almost blinding you and you immediately shut your eyes again, scooting to the side and your hand reaches for your phone on the bedside table.

You tap the screen until it lights up, showing you that it's indeed one o'clock in the afternoon. You must be tired from the flights, dragging your suitcase up the hill in the cold, and then there was the sex, a lot of sex. You remember how you passed out not long after he cum inside you.

Oh no, you missed the whole Christmas morning and that's not the plan. You thought of how nice it would be to snuggle together with Minho on the sofa while having hot chocolate on Christmas morning.

Instead of that, you stand in front of the sink and feel horrified to see your reflection in the mirror, how tired and miserable you look after ten hours of sleep.

Instead of wearing your clothes, you stop by his closet and borrow one of his comfiest knitted sweaters. His suitcase and his backpack are still there, you assume he didn't know you were snooping into his stuff.

Well, there's another reason to snoop in further to see where he's going with the flight ticket. You check for the situation first and waddle back inside, taking his passport out of the bag.

Minho looks so hot even on a government-issued ID photo and before you forget the main goal here, you flip it open to see the details of his flight ticket and you see it.

Unless he has someone else to see in the city you live in, you can safely assume that he planned on coming to see you too, and probably wants to spend the new year with you.

"I knew it!" You exclaim to yourself with a giddy smile on your face.

You wanted to remain calm and pretend that you didn't see the flight ticket and everything but... you can't help but smile when you see him sipping his coffee in the kitchen.

Minho is what people say as one with the softest heart builds the hardest shell. He acts cold, nonchalant, and a bit mean, but that's how you know he really cares for you, and he's genuine and sincere about you.

You come up to him and throw your arms around him, not wasting time kissing his lips, putting all of your affection into this long kiss, and pull away with a gasp.

"Merry Christmas," you happily say to him.

Minho smiles and returns the kiss with a quick peck on your lips, "Coffee?"

You eagerly nod and you wait on the sofa, taking a cookie out of a plate full of them, watching the snow floating in the air through the window.

"Thank you," you mutter as he hands you your cup of steaming hot coffee.

"This is good," you tell him, taking another cookie from the plate.

"I made them," he casually says like he didn't put any effort into baking such delicious cookies.

Minho is good at a lot of things so when he said he made these cookies, you didn't doubt him even for a second.

You place a kiss on his cheek, "These are really good," you tell him again.

You might have missed the Christmas morning but there's always a time to snuggle close to him. It's quiet and warm, it's such a nice moment and to be able to spend it with him is one that you're most grateful for.

Suddenly, Minho takes something from the end of the sofa and shows it to you.

"For you?"

You stop chewing your cookie and put the rest away, "For me?"

He nods and coyly sips his coffee, watching you excitedly unwrapping the gift to find out what's inside.

You gasp as you see a necklace inside, white gold with a small pendant, delicate and beautiful.

"I love it," you tell him with a gleeful smile.

It's always the thoughts that counts. The fact that he thought of you when he picked this gift worth more than the gift itself.

"You should be. I bought it with my own money," he pokes fun at you.

You pout at him, handing him the box so he can put it on for you. You hold all of your hair up in your hands as he puts the necklace around your neck, safely clasping the ends together.

"I love it," you mutter again, letting go of your hair so you can bring his head close and give him a sweet little kiss on his lips.

"Thank you," you say as you break the kiss with a soft caress on his cheek.

He smiles and places a kiss on your cheek, then your jaw. When you think he's going to kiss your neck next, he brings his mouth close to your ear, and ever so softly he murmurs, "I love you."

Your heart shrinks and the next second, it expands twice its size, overflowing with warm feelings. You feel like flying, riding on the clouds of those three words.

"What did you say?" You ask with a foolish smile on your face.

He slyly smiles and sips his coffee, "You heard," he says.

"I heard but..." you lean in close to his side and hold his hand, "can you say it one more time?"

Your sweet smile and the fondness in your eyes are not enough to make him cave in. You should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

You pout and then sigh, but you feel the need to return those words to him. It's not because you have to, but you have known for a while that he is not just a passing fancy, you see a future with him, and as silly as it sounds, you can see yourself growing old with him.

What you have for him is real and it's powerful, it's taking over you.

You hold his jaw and turn his head to look at you, you lean in close until your noses meet in the middle, softly you nuzzle them together while softly smiling at him.

"I love you," you say back with all of your heart that it aches.

Then you place your lips against him and let your heart pour out, flowing all of your emotions into the kiss.

When you open your eyes, his eyes are staring straight into yours. He holds your gaze and lovingly, he says those three words again for you.

"I love you."

And in his eyes, you find comfort, safety, you find a home you want to live in, forever.

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planchettewrites · 4 months ago

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"Red Hair" Shanks (One Piece)/AFAB!Reader

DESCRIPTION: Imagine being "Red Hair" Shanks' wife.

CONTENT: Angst (Shanks losing his arm, talk of infidelity), Fluff (Weddings, Falling in Love)

A/N: Shanks my beloved. While I work on an ideally long Sanji fic, I needed something to post. Hence, this Shanks imagine. This can be read as OPLA!Shanks or Anime/Manga!Shanks. My friend Claudia always tells me being Shanks' wife would be a rather depressing endeavor, but to that I say, bring it. Enjoy bbys!

653 words | Safe!

Imagine being Shanks’ wife.

You’re not a pirate; you’re far from it. You worked at Party’s as a barmaid; you just happened to be the lucky lady to catch Shanks’ eye. Red Haired Shanks, a feared pirate, was nothing but a man with his hat in his hand asking to marry you. You had feelings for the pirate for a while, so of course, you accepted his proposal. You still remembered his words: “Would you marry me, darlin’? Make me the happiest man alive?” His words made you melt. Everything about him made you melt.

The wedding was nothing special in the grand scheme of things; it was what would be considered a “courthouse” wedding. It was held at the very bar you met, and you dolled yourself up nice: your nicest dress, your best available makeup, and you did your hair the way you like it. Shanks wore his Sunday best—which frankly wasn’t much, but you were always a sucker for the rugged look. The rest of the Shanks’ crew and all your friends were there too. Your officiant was the town elder, who looked at you and Shanks with a smile. He grabbed your hands, wished you eternal happiness, and told the pirate that he better not let a single tear slip down your cheek. Shanks promised.

There were two days he couldn’t keep that promise, the first being the day he lost his arm. As he and Luffy came to shore, you noticed the blood draining from the lost limb and screamed. You screamed so loud you were sure they could hear you around the East Blue. As Makino ushered Luffy away, you practically threw yourself at your husband. You were sobbing, grabbing at his shirt, asking what the hell had happened. He shushed and cooed you quietly, telling you what happened. You wanted to punch him, scream at him for his recklessness, but he was protecting a child that he cared for, and you couldn’t fault him for that. As you ushered him to the medic, you continued to cry. You loved your husband more than anything, and nothing would ever change that.

The second time he made you cry was when he left for the Grand Line, telling you that you couldn't come with him. You were enraged, and you showed it with tears. Thoughts raced of him with a hoard of different women, him getting hurt, or getting betrayed, or worse, his death. You couldn't stand any of those things; you needed to be there with him. You rarely got angry at your husband, but today was the day you became livid at him. Instead of screaming out of sheer horror, you screamed in sheer anger. How dare he? How dare he find it acceptable to leave you here forever? Alone. Alone, without the man you promised to spend the rest of your life with. Beck Beckman and the rest of the crew watched this unfold; you were not one to make a scene, but you weren’t going down without a fight. Beckman had approached Shanks, saying he was more than welcome to bring you.

Shanks shook his head and said: “I couldn’t live with myself if she got hurt.”

You fell to your knees. You weren’t going to beg. You had to accept this fate, the fate of a wife with a husband out at sea. Until you feel Shanks lift your chin and help you return to your feet. He kissed you with passion and pulled you into the tightest hug he could: “Where would I be without my wife by my side? You can come along, darlin’.”

From that day forward, you were on the sea with the Red Hair Pirates. More importantly, you were on the sea with your husband, the feared pirate Red Haired Shanks. Your souls in the ocean together would be, and that’s all you needed to be happy.

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eevees-hobbies · 5 months ago

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This One's for the Dads!

Authors Note: This was originally going to be a spicy one-shot with Satoru Gojo, but then it turned into something else.

Synopsis: Father’s Day is among us and it impacts Gojo, Geto, Toji and Sukuna (yes, even him) differently.

Content Warning: There is some smut below. None in Toji’s and it’s kind of angsty. Female ReaderXCharacter, Mentioning of fathers day, breeding kink, implied child abandonment, reference to spitting in someones mouth, playing with nipples, almost getting caught, making out fingering, sex, etc. Minors DO NOT Interact.

Likes, comments and reblogs always appreciated!

The Dads Who Stepped Up

Satoru Gojo

“Happy Father's Day, Satoru!” You shout while simultaneously setting off a loud party popper. The red party string erupts from the boisterous instrument and floats to the floor onto the accented rug. The love of your life and least funniest person in the world, Satoru Gojo—who had just walked into the door of your shared home—looks at you in surprise.

Truth be told, it was the end of a particularly long and stressful workday, and he was looking forward to coming home and collapsing into his king-sized bed without further thought of carrying the world's weight on his shoulders. But here he was, being accosted at his own front door—by you.

“Happy Fathers D-?” His voice trails off as his eyes wander down your frame and settle on your midsection. Your face grows hot as you follow his eyes; instinctively, your hand shoots down to cover your stomach. You scold yourself quietly for not thinking of the implications behind your gesture.

“Yeah, I should have thought this through. Don’t worry, I’m not pregnant.”

“Oh”

You make a mental note of his change of tone. He sounded disappointed, but you can’t imagine why since pregnancy scares have always stressed you both out in the past.

“Then, why are you wishing me a Happy Father's Day? I’m not exactly a dad.” Gojo closes the door behind him and opens his arms, allowing you to approach him and melt into his embrace. His familiarity calms you, as does the scent of his cologne and the way he rests his chin on your head. For all the things that Gojo is for you—and he is a lot of positive things—he also is a sense of security, comfort, and unconditional love.

“But you are, Satoru. I know I joke about you having an army of secret kids out there-“

“I meaaaaaaan-”

You pinch his bicep playfully, earning a pained chuckle from him.

“You’re a father figure to Megumi, Yuta, and Yuji, to only name a few. Think about how much you’ve stepped up and mentored them in their darkest moments. I want you to consider where those kids would be without you, Satoru.”

While you’re talking, Gojo lifts his blindfold from his eyes and rests it on his forehead. His usual playful gaze is gone, replaced with something more reflective as he considers your words. It’s almost enough to unnerve you, but you continue in an attempt to convince your partner that today is a day for him, too.

“I know you’re always bragging about being the strongest, to the point where you’re downright annoying, but please accept that you serve in this capacity, too. Look,” you break free from his embrace, walk over to your dining room table, and pick up several envelopes.

Gojo follows behind you, peering over your shoulder. “What are those?”

“Signed Father's Day cards from the boys.” You hand them over to Gojo, who then opens the one on the top of the pile, which just so happens to be Megumi’s

Gojo can’t help but smile as he reads it aloud: “Thanks for everything. If I had to choose between being sold off to the Zenin clan and you, I would choose you every time.”

He looks up at you, his voice soft and devoid of his usual arrogant tone. "That’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to me.”

You smile as he reads through the other cards. Yuta’s is the sweetest and tugs at your heartstrings as he describes a point in which meeting Gojo meant not having to live in fear anymore.

Yuji’s card makes Satoru chuckle with the use of an inside joke that doesn’t sound too appropriate for a student-teacher relationship, but you don’t press it.

You watch Gojo, enjoying this moment in which he feels valued, something his thankless job often fails to offer him.

After Gojo places the cards on the refrigerator via the picture magnets of you two, he turns to you. “Baaaaaabe!”

There he is, you think as he throws his arms around you and nuzzles his face into your hair, “I’m not gonna’ lie. I kind of wish you were pregnant, though.”

Suddenly, the arrogance is back, his voice absolutely inundated with it, “I like the idea of a little Gojo running around, and you make me sound like a perfect dad.”

You recall your conversation from minutes ago in which he sounded disappointed when you said you weren’t pregnant, “Gojo, we’ve talked about this. When you get horny, you start talking about making a family.”

He whines, “Come ON! It’s Father’s Day! MY day! Humor me.”

You laugh and nod, not entirely sure what you’re consenting to, but he’s right. It is Father's Day, and it was your intention to make him feel like this was a day for him, so what was the harm in playing along?

Gojo picks you up and places you on the counter, his fingers gripping the edge of your skirt and hiking it up. He’s on you in an instant, attaching himself to you as if you’re his lifeline.

You loop a finger around the hem of his blindfold, removing and flinging it across the room. His white hair falls into his face, adding a breathtaking contrast to his sky-blue eyes.

“Would it be so bad, Y/N?”

“W-would what be so bad?” Gojo’s warm mouth is on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses but still somehow managing to speak against your skin.

“Making me a dad,” he pauses. “Letting me make you a mama.” Gojo leans closer to you, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders. You’re situated on the counter, but his proposition makes you feel like you’re falling. And what he says next shakes you to your very being.

“Let me put a baby in you, Y/N.”

You open your mouth, ready to list why you both shouldn’t even be entertaining this conversation—but, to your surprise, you can’t find the words to say no. And perhaps it’s because it’s something you actually want, or maybe it’s because Gojo is now positioning his cock at your entrance, and when that man pulls his dick out, you get a little dumb. Honestly, your only flaw.

You have follow-up questions. You’re unsure if he’s being serious; he often talks like this during sex, a consequence of a man with a breeding kink, but this sounds different. Feels different. So, is he serious? Your second question is, how did he pull his dick out so quickly?

You don’t get much time to ask as he smacks the fat tip of his dick against your sensitive clit; the sound of his meat hitting your already moist cunt echoes through the kitchen. The action sends shockwaves through your body, and you arch your back, pressing yourself further against his body, which almost doesn’t feel humanly possible.

Gojo smirks, “Mmm, so receptive for me, baby. What if I juuuuust put the tip in, like this?”

He’s a man of his word as he presses the head against the entrance of your tight cunt, watching as it does what it does best and welcomes Gojo’s dick. But he doesn’t push in any further, only allowing you to feel moderately stretched and not as full as you’d like.

“Don’t tease me, Gojo.” You attempt to make your demand sound menacing through gritted teeth, but it comes out more like a whine. Pathetic.

He wraps a hand around your chin and pulls your face within mere inches of his. “I will if you ask nicely.”

You huff. God, for all the reasons you love this man, he can be fucking exhausting. But your body deceives you; your cunt grasps at the head of his cock, part of you enjoying his little games.

“Please, Saturo, make me a mommy.”

As the last syllable leaves your lips, he pushes forward until his dick is flush against your pussy. The momentum of the push bounces you back, and some of the appliances on the counter tip over. Gojo’s hand shoots over your head to get leverage, resting on the cabinet while the other wraps around your waist.

“Fuck,” he groans as he slides in and out of you. “I swear to GOD I’m getting you pregnant tonight. You want that? To carry my babies?”

Fantasy or not, you’re into it. You tighten your grip around his neck and moan into his ear, your honeyed voice only making him thrust more aggressively.

“You’re going to be a great Daddy, baby!”

The arm that was around your waste is now in between you both, his long fingers rubbing your clit, the friction making your inner thighs clench—a telltale sign that you’re getting close.

“You’re going to look so fuckin’ beautiful pregnant. How many are you going to give me? Cuz once we start, I won’t be able to stay off ya.”

You moan in approval; Satoru is a pervert, a menace, but never a liar. You know that if he promises to keep you barefoot and pregnant, he fucking means it.

“Stick out your tongue for me, baby.”

You happily oblige as his mouth absorbs your tongue, sucking harshly on it. Kissing while fucking is something you both often do, but you and Satoru are just so comically bad at it—taking intermittent pauses, too caught up in the pleasure you’re both feeling to move your lips. But he never allows your tongue to retreat back into your mouth, sucking on it while he continues to pound your core.

You dig your nails into his shoulders, realizing that he never removed his shirt—he was so horny that he only had time to drop his pants down to his ankles and fuck you right there on your kitchen counter. And the thought alone has you grabbing his hair and gushing on his dick.

Gojo lets out a whimper as your cunt spasms, sending him over the edge, and shooting ropes upon ropes into your sex.

You’re both left panting, forehead to forehead.

“Happy Father's Day, Satoru.”

Suguru Geto

“That’s the last of it,” you say as you dump an endless supply of glitter into a trash bag. The living room was a mess.

For this Father's Day, Mimiko and Nanako begged to be in charge of the activities. You were touched. The girls were obviously happy to hold this responsibility, so you willingly passed the baton to them.

And you had to admit, you were impressed by the itinerary. They planned a trip to some of Seguro’s favorite places, including a Soba restaurant that typically had an extensive waitlist. Tonight was no exception, but the girls had made reservations months in advance.

You all concluded the day at home with home movies, cake, and a poster board with bright red glitter proclaiming that Geto was the “World's Best Dad.”

Hence, the mess.

The girls were now tucked away and asleep in their respective bedrooms. You and Suguru were taking the time to clean up the living room, but a quiet lull had settled between you both. You looked back at him as you tied the trash bag closed.

Geto is sitting on the couch, a smile on his face that you can’t help but return. He looks perfect like this, you think to yourself. He is wearing black jeans and a loose grey sweatshirt, and his signature hair, which is often tied up, flows freely past his shoulders.

“Y//N, this is the happiest I’ve ever been, and I owe a lot of this to you. This wouldn’t be a home without you.” He gestures to the room around you both, and you take it all in—it’s not the most luxurious of homes, but it belongs to your family of 4, and it’s brimming with character.

You can clearly see what he’s referencing—the pencil marks on the walls indicating the measured inventory of the girls over the years, the pile of shoes near the door (the girls have far TOO many, you often say to no one in particular) and the framed family photos of you all on every wall.

Suguru interrupts your thoughts as he pats the vacant seat on the sofa beside him. You accept his invitation, sitting down and draping your legs into his lap. He gently pushes you back so you’re lying underneath him, his dark eyes penetrating your soul.

His voice is soft, and his touch is even softer as he slides a hand up your shirt, your bra removed hours ago, “I couldn’t do this without you. I wouldn’t want to do this without you.”

His deft fingers circle your nipples, making them unbelievably hard and earning a moan from your lips, “Suguru, the girls could hear us!”

“Sounds like you better be quiet then” His head disappears under your shirt, and while you can’t see what he’s doing, you can feel his hot mouth on your nipples, rolling them around his tongue, sucking and teasing the flesh, making the heat between your legs grow exponentially stronger.

You begin to grind against him, trying to rub against any part of him to feel some semblance of relief. He chuckles, slipping a hand into your waistband and past your underwear. He lets out a murmur of approval as his hands dip into your needy sex, immediately stroking the soft-spongy spot deep in your core that drives you crazy.

Geto’s fingers are a godsend as they curve, stroke, and scissor you, adjusting to different motions depending on the sounds you make. His mouth still hasn't left your nipple, his suckles getting more aggressive as you feel his teeth nibbling.

Suddenly, you both hear a door open from within the hallway and freeze. You hear someone—one of the girls, but you aren’t sure which—pad their way to the bathroom.

You both stay as still as humanly possible, knowing that if you duck down enough, whoever crosses in the hallway won’t be able to see you on the couch.

Suguru pulls his hands out of your pants, which you assume means that your sexual escapade has concluded until those same fingers, which are covered in your essence, are now pressing against your lips.

He doesn’t give you much of an option as he pushes them into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on your tongue, swirling his fingers around to mix with your saliva.

The bathroom door opens, and you hear the footsteps back into their room.

“Good job,” Suguru coos, pressing his lips against your stomach and pulling his fingers from your mouth.

“And thank you for an excellent Father's Day, my love.”

The Dad Who Stepped Out

Toji Fushiguro

“Here’s what you asked for.” Toji enters the kitchen and drops a grocery bag on the table. You glance over your shoulder at your stay-at-home boyfriend, who seems grumpier than usual today.

“Thanks. Hoping to try this Carbonara recipe out.” You rifle through the bag and pull out the ingredients.

Toji lingers in the kitchen—-unusual for him as he never offers to help cook, but you don’t press it, not wanting to catch the strays from whatever has him pissed off.

“I forgot…I forgot what day it is,” he mumbles softly.

Oh, you look over at the calendar on the refrigerator and nod. The date is circled in bright red marker. There’s a note to yourself that reads, “Father's Day!”

“There were so many brats at the store today with their moms pickin’ out dinners. Barely could find anywhere to park.”

He’s rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes look anywhere but at yours. You can tell that this is bothering him as Toji wears his stress on his shoulders, which are now hunched in a way that looks far from comfortable.

You learned early in your relationship not to bring up Father’s Day; it’s a sore spot for him. Much of what you know about Toji and his relationship with his son was shared reluctantly as a result of an ultimatum by you: open up or get the fuck out.

You choose your following words carefully. “Do you want to talk about it, or is this you venting?”

Toji sighs and shrugs, “Let’s hear it.”

“I think you should call your kid, Toji. He’s probably thinking about you, too.”

He holds his hand up, signaling that he doesn’t want to hear anything else about the topic, and exits to the bedroom. You glance sadly at your ingredients and conclude that dinner is going to have to wait as you follow Toji.

He’s lying on your bed almost as if asleep, but the scowl on his face and the way he’s biting his bottom lip gives him away.

You sit on the edge of the bed, “what do you need right now?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah, but within reason, Toji. Because it seems like you don’t want to do what makes the most sense which is to pick up the fucking phone and call your son, so yeah, what do you need that I can give you right now?”

Toji’s face goes slack, and he opens one of his eyes. “Just sit here with me, yeah?”

You nod and crawl beside him, laying your head on his bicep as he wraps his arm around you.

Dishonorable Mention

Ryomen Sukuna

“Woman! Isn’t there something that you’re forgetting?”

Sukuna taps his foot as he sits at your dining room table. You would think that a modest two-bedroom apartment would humble the king of curses, but it doesn’t.

“What is it now, Sukuna?”

“I was watching the news, and every segment specified that it’s Father's Day?”

You nod, not entirely sure where he’s going with this.

“Well? Where’s my gift? My words of adoration? Your mouth on one of my cocks?”

You blink slowly, “Sukuna, Father's Day is for those with children. Are you telling me that you have-?”

‘He waves his dismissively at you, “Don’t be absurd, woman. You know how I feel about those disgusting creatures.”

“Then?”

Suluna’s patience with you is running thin. You sometimes like to play games with him to get a rise out of him. He’ll remember to spit in your mouth when he beds you tonight.

He speaks through gritted teeth, “you call me daddy every chance I have you split open on my dicks. Now wish me a happy fathers day.”

You consider your options here; on the one hand, pissing off Sukuna could be fun; on the other hand, he is right, you do call him daddy in the bedroom, so you relent, “happy fathers day, Sukuna.”

His chest swells in triumph. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #toji x reader #suguru geto x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #geto suguru #toji fushiguro #smut #angst

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maryleclerc · 1 year ago

Text

𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 — charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: in which after everything, charles and reader end up back together. become a family!

warning: use google translate, english is not my native language. this is the first ending, which mean reader will end up with charles, i’ll post 2nd ending soon. i do not claim any of these images as my own

i know i know, why’s so peaceful? i wanted if reader end up with carlos than i’ll make it more dramatic! so wait for my ending with carlos!!

please if you wanted to be tag in any of my future work, you can reply or dm me! thank you!! 🤍

read part 01, part 02

deuxmoi

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deuxmoi Our first image of Y/n and Charles today in NYC together. Taken by a fan today!!

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brianng If they are really back together, i’d be real happy to know that my wishes finally came true

ynscharlesleclerc They’ll always be the best couple of my heart

megancharles She’s ruining other people happiness, she’s the reason why Charles broke up with Meg

charles_leclerc

Liked by yourusername and 4,091,672 others

charles_leclerc I think today is a suitable day to write this article. Just like the rumors these past few weeks, about Y/n and I, I want to confirm that Y/n and I are back together and we are very happy now. We also prepare together to welcome our little angel. Also thank you for all of your concern

tagged: yourusername

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ynusernamefan I am happy for you

charlessgoddess It’s seems like this is their fate, after so many things had happen to both of them, they still find their ways to get back together without even trying

yourusername

Liked by yoursisterusername, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername Sharing all of my favorite saved in my gallery while enjoying few weeks left in my last sem 🤍

tagged: yoursisterusername

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uhbbjorn_ What’s your favorite part of being pregnant Y/n?

⤷ yourusername The most favorite part of being pregnant is when you can feel the baby’s kicking

jenniej__ Have you had any ideas for the baby name yet?

⤷ yourusername Actually me and Charles both like the name Ceres and Agnes, but haven’t will fit her

charles_leclerc with yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 6,180,044 others

yourusername Ceres Faye Leclerc decided to come on her own schedule 4 weeks early. Born 12/20 at 20:20 👶🏻🧸 and her papa @charles_leclerc was made it in time.

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arthur_leclerc ❤️ my niece

geeherst Congratulations and blessing! This is so incredible

kathykeeth She’s so little, I can’t 🥹

shhanann Her name feel so like goddess

wired

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wired [HIGHLIGHT] Some of the most cutes moment of Autocomplete Interview Couple Edition with Y/n and Charles Leclerc today.

CHARLES: Hi! I’m Charles Leclerc

Y/N: I’m Y/n Y/l/n soon to Y/n Leclerc and today we’re with WIRED Autocomplete Interview

BOTH: Family Edition

Q: Have you ever google yourself?

Y/N: Oh yes I have, only once

CHARLES: I never google myself —

Y/N: Why?

CHARLES: I mean… I don’t know

Y/N: Okay first question, are you ready Charles?

CHARLES: More than ready soon-to-be Mrs. Leclerc

Y/N: [Chuckle] Stop it, first question “Is Y/n Y/l/n single?”— Well guess what, I’m still available

CHARLES: What? No you’re not, you’re mine [Laugh]

Y/N: Okay okay I’m just kidding, so is Y/n single? No, I’m not single and already engage to this gorgeous man sitting next to me

CHARLES: Next up “Is Charles Leclerc nice?”

CHARLES: I don’t know, ask her [pointed at Y/n]

Y/N: Yes he’s the nicest person I’ve ever met

Y/N: “How did Charles and Y/n met?”

CHARLES: Well we met through Y/n mom, like everyone already knows. So it’s was on Christmas Eve and my family just casually having dinner together at this restaurent called and then all of a sudden my mom just point at Y/n whom also sitting with her family and said “Oh my god, Charles ressemble à un ange, va lui parler, Charles” which mean “Charles she look like an angel, go talk to her, Charles” and everything started from there.

Y/N: [Laugh] Yea, I remember that I heard something in French and just right the moment I look up, I saw his face. But there is something I haven’t told you, that when I step into that restaurent I already like really like into you.

CHARLES: Awww I know you do had crush on me baby

CHARLES: Next question is “How many childens do Charles and Y/n have?”

CHARLES: We have a daughter and her name is Ceres Faye Leclerc, she’s my treasure

Y/N: And she’s a spitting image of Charles

Y/N: “How many children do Charles want?”

CHARLES: I’m a family guy you know, I got to say that my ideal is to have 3 kids but —

Y/N: Wow that’s take lots of work to do Charles

CHARLES: But after witnessing what Y/n went through during the birth of Ceres, and all the difficulties that came with it after giving birth, I have reconsidered this. Actually, for me, how many children I want is not as important as whether Y/n wants it or not. After all, the one who gives birth is still Y/n not me, so I always prioritize her choice.

Link in bio for full WIRED Autocomplete Interview with Y/n and Charles Leclerc

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charles_leclerc Thank you WIRED for the best Interview 🙌🙌

yourusername We have so much fun time with WIRED Autocomplete Interview. Thank you WIRED!!🙌

helenaandersson THEY’RE ENGAGE!!!

lulnan One of the best interview WIRED had done so far!!

macharlesitan Never knew Charles could be this sweet

kitt._ I need a man like him in my life 😩

⤷ alexandraandersson Too sad, a man like him on this planet are RARE

( taglist ) @janeholt3 @formulas-bitch @celestialams @aundercover @1655clean @amalialeclerc

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #carlos sainz fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc smau!#charles leclerc one shot

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uplatterme · 2 years ago

Text

“Say my name.”

—happy birthday to xiao! this is my first time writing for him? i hope it is okay :D

—sub!xiao/softdom!reader, gn!reader | nipple play, handjob, rimming (all xiao!receiving)

Xiao doesn’t really care for what mortals think of him.

That’s what he tells himself, at least. He doesn’t care whether humans are put off by him as long as he does his job well as a protector of Liyue.

He doesn’t care if his ways of punishing monsters are to be considered savage or brutal by others.

Most of all, he doesn’t care if you’ve never cared to call him by his name.

The yaksha snaps his chopsticks just thinking about it.

He sighs, wondering if he has said something that you may have misinterpreted. Sure, he knows that his words aren’t the nicest unlike the other adepti but there’s not a specific situation that comes to mind.

Perhaps he’s overthinking it…

“Thank you so much again, Sir Adepti!” Your voice is nothing but praise. There’s no hint of aggressiveness at all.

Yet the thought of his name actually being said out loud by that voice seems so unreachable.

So this time it’s “Sir Adepti”, huh?

He supposes that’s better than the time you called him “Mr. Conqueror of Demons”.

“It’s no problem.” He replies, seeing the last hilichurl fade away.

Xiao finds it impressive that you manage to spot him whenever you’re in trouble despite not really stating his name yourself. He thinks about the possibility that you’re actually capable of defending yourself if needed, even if there’s no basis for such thought.

“As swift as ever,”

He tenses up at the compliment. It’s just a simple observation but he clenches his fist at the way you say it. Pure genuinity.

You’re not saying it just because you want to be on his good side (even if you already are), you mean it and that idea brings unwanted emotions that certainly keep him distracted even if he doesn’t want to be.

“I apologize, what was it that you were saying?” He asks, seeing the way your lips move but not truly hearing it.

You chuckle, covering your mouth and uttering apologies that sound sweeter than dreams.

“A mora for your thoughts?”

“I have no need for mora, I helped you out because I wished to do so.” He completely diminishes the joke, instantly flying over his head. You didn’t speak much of it however, preferring to focus on what he said instead.

“Is that so? That’s interesting, I thought you did it because it’s your obligation.” You tease.

The reply catches him off-guard.

“You…are twisting my words.” He says, a much quieter tone than his stern ones earlier when he was warning you about the dangers of being out this late.

“Am I, Dearest Yaksha?”

There proceeds another title.

“I—You are aware that I’m the only active Yaksha? That title is not something I should be benefiting from.” He clears up. How longer were you going to play this game of yours? Is saying his name really that much trouble for you?

Your laugh surrounds the air once again, “It’s a wonder how you aren’t surrounded by fans all day with the way you are.”

He shrinks at the imagined situation. He would never, never allow himself to be near a large number of people just for reputation’s sake.

“I do what I do not for the people’s idea of me.” Xiao states.

“I know.”

He watches you look fondly at him before speaking up. “You need to loosen up a bit more, especially today. Don’t you think so?”

But before he can even ask for you to expand on what you meant, you had already walked far enough, and all he could do was stare at your back, his hands reaching out for something that’s already gone.

The feeling isn’t something new to him.

He returns to Wangshu Inn troubled, ready to sit down and ponder alone when Verr Goldet greets him with a smile.

“How did your patrol go?” She stands by the counter, getting something from under the desk while she awaits his answer.

“Nothing unusual.”

“I’m pretty sure that Liyue would have been alright without your attendance for today.” She adds, giving him a small envelope that seemed to contain some letters.

“Some letters from everyone. Do read it when you have the time.”

He reads through the names on the letters. A few are from the residents of the inn themselves, some from the other adepti (which is surprising considering their reserved attitude), some from the townspeople of Liyue…

But what garners his attention is the last letter in the envelope stuck with a qingxin, a name that’s all too familiar to Xiao.

He places the other letters on the desk beside his bed, wanting to read what it is that you’ve said to him.

He reads through the content easily, and the way it’s worded easily strikes through his heart. In his private room, he flushes a deep red while reciting the words under his breath as if saying it will free him from the pounding in his chest.

Xiao reads out the last sentence,

“Call out my name, Xiao.”

There’s no hesitation when he finally does.

He notices the presence on his balcony and he decides to see who the intruder is at this hour, only to find out that it’s you.

How long had you been out there?

“Happy Birthday. I hope you appreciate those letters because I cooked multiple batches of Adepti’s Temptation just to get an actual written letter—”

Xiao cuts you off as he jumps into your arms, hugging you tightly as if you’re going to perish any second now.

He doesn’t say anything, just continuing to hold onto your warmth and not knowing what to do next.

“My, which letter got to you? Was it the—”

“No.” Xiao boldy says.

“No?”

“Say my name, please.”

You pull him away from you and stare into his eyes, wiping away the few drops of tears that have somehow escaped his tough shell.

The feeling of relief, warmth, and caring that he experiences when your voice finally says what he’s been wanting to for so long breaks Xiao. You didn’t need to confess your feelings in any other way, that was enough for him to know that you reciprocate his own.

He hugs you once more, burying his head onto your body.

“Thank you.”

Xiao had never thought he’d be caught actually using his bed for resting. Well, if what’s happening right now actually counts as “resting”.

He writhes at the feeling of your tongue through the thin cloth of his top, him being pinned down by your left hand gripping his wrists.

He has never thought that his chest would be so sensitive, but the way your lips pinch his nipples has his legs moving more than they should, no matter if he wants his body to stay still.

Keeping himself composed when it comes to pain is easy. Unfortunately, the opposite could be said with pleasure, since he is now instinctively grinding himself on your leg while you play with his erect nipples.

“Hnn—Aah. Please…”

He wants more. He bites his lip at the thought of being greedy, a needy whine escaping his throat despite that.

“Speak up, Xiao.”

The embarrassing noise that slips out of him when you call his name sends him flushing. Perhaps it’s because you’ve deprived him of such pleasure for so long that it causes cute spurts of precum out of his dick.

Your finger traces on the green markings on his lower region, slightly glowing with the way the light in the room is slightly dimmed.

“W-Want more…” The plead easily comes out of his mouth due to him being in such a dreamy state, it only registers to Xiao what he says when he feels you separating his legs away from each other.

It’s such a sight to see the adepti’s hole clenching and unclenching, his cum that leaked down from earlier beautifully surrounding it.

Xiao’s figure is quite small but that doesn’t take away from how his ass is nicely shaped, with a few scars on the side of his thighs from the battles that he’s suffered through.

Your gentle caressing of his cheeks makes his dick twitch slightly.

“N-No, you don’t have to…!”

It’s a strange sensation to have himself licked with such enjoyment, he feels a bit guilty enjoying this so much already but when he observes you devouring him with such hunger, the resistance falls flat on his tongue, easily replaced with soft whimpering.

“Xiao.”

You call for him once again but before he could even reply with something coherent, your tongue slips inside of him.

He struggles to lay flat on his back, his lower body inching towards your face.

The texture of your tongue against his rim has him breathing deeply and quickly, your hands spreading his ass apart so you could easily eat him out.

The soft kisses that you plant in between, the way your fingers dig into his soft skin…it’s ungodly.

And if that wasn’t already hypnotizing enough, your other hand slowly makes its way from his thigh to the base of his cock, just circling it with your fingers and squeezing softly.

Xiao grinds even more on your tongue but immediately apologizes when he notices how closer that brought him. He tries to move away but is immediately pulled back down, shivering from how your tongue enters him once again, stretching him out.

He bites his teeth together at that, his head hitting the soft pillow when your hand that’s only been gripping him has now started to stroke his length, never reaching his tip and only keeping your hand on his shaft.

“Wait…I—”

Xiao doesn’t know where to focus, his eyes meeting the ceiling of his room. He’d be lucky if the residents of the inn were to not hear of the noises he’s making right now, though he finds that to be impossible.

He moans your name, begging you to let him take a break at least but also wanting more at the same time. He’s too confused on whether he should be enjoying it this much.

When you told him to loosen up, he didn’t realize you’d take it literally.

He feels his muscles tightening, his knee gently hitting the side of your body. He won’t—can’t last long.

Xiao fumbles with his words, he should warn you, shouldn’t he? If he orgasms like this, surely his cum would be a mess for you to clean up, right?

He tries, he really does. However, what comes out of his mouth are completely incomprehensible, just soft but loud moans. “Ah, uh! Hah—Can’t!”

He doesn’t miss the way your hand seems to be stroking him even roughly, using the leaking cum out of him as lubrication. The way his cum falls on your tongue, acting like that’s no bother for you as you continue to eat him out.

Soon enough, it takes everything in him to hold onto nothing, clenching his fists empty as he knows that he’ll end up ripping the sheets if he does that instead.

His cum splatters everywhere but mostly around his stomach and your face, the scream that erupts from him is humiliating and he only hopes that no one can tell that it’s him who’s the owner.

Xiao’s entire body, especially his legs, quiver.

He lays there weak on the bed, letting you go on top of him as you press your lips against his, the taste of his own cum turning him on.

He’s still breathing heavily, panting and moaning into your mouth. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you down and deeper into the kiss.

Once you two separate, a trail of saliva follows and gets left on the side of Xiao's mouth.

The grin that appears on your face right after flusters Xiao and he looks away, only to have his face be grabbed by your fingers, turning his head towards yours for a quick peck.

“Happy Birthday, Xiao.”

#plattered writings #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #sub xiao #sub!xiao #dom reader #dom!reader

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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months ago

Text

With You, Even When I'm Not

Requested Here by the amazing @newobsessionweekly!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: When one of Tim Bradford's enemies is released from prison, he sets out to hurt Tim by hurting you. You trust that Tim will save you, but time is not on your side.

Warnings: angst, car accident, torture (injuries to r), based on 2x11 but this isn't a rewrite (for once lol), crying, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 5.5k+ words

A/N: I didn't include a scene with Tim threatening someone like he does in 2x11 and I kinda regret it because it was hot, but I also really like how this turned out...

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“The almighty Tim Bradford isn’t coming to save you. You know why? Because you’re already dead.”

You force your eyes open and ignore the pain and fear to say, “So are you.”

Less than eight hours ago, you sat beside Tim in roll call. You force yourself to remember that rather than consider what Ferguson plans to do to you.

- 8 Hours Ago -

Your day starts like any other: you wake up, get ready, go to the station, and take your seat beside Tim for roll call. The sun is bright, the sky clear, and Los Angeles is event-free for once. So, it has the makings for a good day.

“What is up with you?” Tim asks quietly.

“What do you mean?” you counter.

“You’re all smiley and happy. Someone puked in my shop yesterday and you’re acting like this is the best job in the world.”

“It is!” You chuckle at his look before explaining, “It’s going to be a good day. Just let me enjoy this one for every hundred bad ones I’ve dealt with.”

“Sure.”

Wade enters, and you give him your full attention, though you never forget about Tim. He’s a constant in your life, and you wish you could have him by your side every moment, not just during roll call.

“Nolan, Harper is back so you can return to your TO,” Wade says.

“That’s why you’re so happy,” Tim muses. “You got rid of Nolan.”

You shake your head and smile before you stand. You’re patrolling in one of the nicest Los Angeles neighborhoods today, so you probably won’t see or hear Tim much today.

“Have a good one,” you tell him.

“Be careful,” he replies.

You exit the room, and Tim watches you go. Lucy walks to his side and stops, aware of what he’s looking at and longing for.

“Let’s go, boot, don’t just stand there,” Tim demands.

“Bradford,” Wade calls. “A word? Chen can stay.”

Tim nods and follows Lucy to the front of the room.

“Ferguson was released on parole this morning,” Wade says. “Sorry to tell you like this, but I thought you should know.”

“He had fifteen years left; how did this happen?” Tim asks.

“Who’s Ferguson?” Lucy inquires.

“Someone I arrested,” Tim answers. “He threatened to kill me when he got out.”

“Oh. Uh, should we-“

“That is up to Officer Bradford,” Wade interjects. “If you want to sit today out, I’ll understand.”

“No. I’m not letting him ruin my life, too. We can handle Ferguson if he’s stupid enough to show his face.”

“The parole board seems convinced he’s reformed, but we both know he’s a good liar and a better manipulator. Keep your eyes open, Tim, and don’t hesitate to call in anything you think is a threat.”

“Yes, sir. Let’s go, boot.”

Tim leads Lucy to the shop, and he's quieter than usual. Lucy hasn’t been a cop as long as him, but she knows what it’s like to have a criminal blame you for the consequences of their actions. She won’t push Tim, not about this, but she has questions about everything she heard.

“Pull up Roscoe Ferguson,” Tim says as he turns onto the road. “Get familiar with his face. If you see him, I want you to know it’s him.”

“You really think he’ll do something?” Lucy asks as she turns the dashboard computer toward her.

“I’m counting on it.”

“Dispatch, this is 7-Adam-9, are there any alerts in my area?” you ask into the radio.

“Negative, 7-Adam-9.”

You nod to yourself and place the radio back in the console. The morning has been quiet and slow. You know you shouldn’t complain; a sunny drive in the hills is rarely a bad thing, but you’re a cop, and you’re getting bored.

“7-Adam-9, switch to channel 4 for Sergeant Grey,” dispatch instructs.

You turn the channel dial and let Wade know you’re there. He doesn’t answer, and you slow at a stop sign as you bounce the radio against your thigh.

“You’re in the hills, right?” Wade asks suddenly.

He doesn't use your name or call number, only asks a rushed question. It concerns you, but you remain professional.

“Yes, sir,” you answer. “Do you need me to come back?”

“No, stay up there. Just wanted to double-check.”

“What’s going on?”

Wade goes silent again, and you repeat the question.

“Nothing, I hope. Just trying to keep everyone connected to Bradford out of the heart of LA today.”

“Why?”

“Ferguson was released.”

“He has 15 years left on his sentence!” you exclaim into your empty car.

“I know. I’m trying to get everything figured out and petition for it to be reversed, but for now, just keep working.”

“Yes, sir.”

You turn the channel back and set the radio down. Roscoe Ferguson hates Tim and would do anything to get to him. Tim knows you're here for him, so you focus on your assignment. The Hollywood hills are quiet this morning, but you know better than to let your guard down.

As you turn onto Tahoe Drive, you notice a black truck in your rearview. He gets close to the tail of your shop but slows suddenly and turns onto Tahoe Place. You roll your eyes; the people who live in the Hills drive like they own the hills. They probably do, but it doesn’t excuse unsafe vehicle operation.

You round the bend where Tahoe Drive turns into Lake Hollywood Drive, and the Hollywood Reservoir comes into view. When you glance up, you see the black truck speeding toward you again. You hit the lights and leave them on for a few seconds as a warning, but the driver doesn’t slow. If they pass you, you’ll stop them and issue a ticket, you decide.

There’s a point on Lake Hollywood Drive where there’s less than 200 feet of terrain between the road and the reservoir. It’s covered in sparse foliage, but it would be easy enough to get to the water or hide in the trees. You realize too late that the truck isn’t slowing down or moving to pass you as you near that point. It rams into you from behind, and you lurch forward before the seatbelt catches and snatches you backward. Steering is pointless as the shop slides into a small patch of dirt. The truck is still driving, pushing your car forward. The driver stops just before you collide with a tree, and you reach for the radio.

It's fallen from the console, and the seatbelt holds you uncomfortably tight to your seat. As you wrestle to free yourself and get the radio, you don’t see the man exit the truck or approach your window. He hits it with an illegal tool used for breaking into cars, and you turn your face away as glass showers over you.

“Hi,” he greets. “7-Adam-9, right?”

“And you’re Roscoe Ferguson,” you answer.

“Bradford, get back to the station,” Wade radios, “Now.”

“What’s going on?” Tim asks as he makes a U-turn.

“Ferguson stole a truck. We don’t know where he went after or what he’s planning to do.”

“We should find him,” Lucy says.

“And don’t say you should go look for him,” Wade adds. “You’re too close to this.”

“He’s not going to kill me, Grey,” Tim argues. “Let me help. I caught him once; I can do it again.”

“Get back to the station. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tim sighs as he continues driving toward the station. The last time he worried about Roscoe Ferguson, you were sitting beside him. Though you’ll never take the credit, Tim thinks you’re the main reason he finally got Ferguson in cuffs.

“What now?” Lucy asks.

“We find a way to help find Ferguson,” Tim replies.

“Get out,” Ferguson demands.

He pushes the gun closer to your face, and you raise your hands slowly. Your left shoulder aches from the impact of the seatbelt, and as you reach through the broken window to open your door, you feel the tiny scratches littering your face and neck sting. Ferguson pulls you away from the shop and pushes you toward the reservoir.

“What’s your plan here, Roscoe?” you ask.

He taps the gun against your back to make you keep walking. With your back to him, you slide your hand into your pocket and remove the laminated piece of paper you keep in it. It falls to the ground, and you hope it’s enough to help Tim find you and Roscoe.

“Kill me to get to Tim? Hurt him without touching him because you know he won’t let you get the chance?”

“Shut up!” Ferguson yells. “Walk!”

Taunting him may not be your brightest decision, but making him mad will make him careless. When you reach the water, he grabs your belt and pulls you backward. Your breath rushes out as your back hits the ground, but you smile through the pain.

“You will never beat him,” you say.

“Tim Bradford took everything from me. Let’s see how he likes the feeling,” Ferguson responds.

He raises the gun to your face and pushes the barrel against your forehead. You keep your eyes on him, unwilling to flinch in the face of death. He changes his mind, however, and brings the butt of the handle down against your temple instead, and everything goes dark as the water blows in the wind.

Tim and Lucy have been relegated to desk duty. With Ferguson on the run and numerous threats against Tim’s life, Wade decided it would be best for him to stay here. Wade watches them from his office and shakes his head when Lucy begins twirling her handcuffs around her finger. His phone rings and Wade steps away from the glass door to answer it.

“Sergeant Grey,” he answers.

He listens silently before lowering the receiver and stepping out into the station. Tim looks up, and his expression drops immediately.

“What happened?” Tim asks as he stands.

“They found the stolen truck. It was involved in an accident near the reservoir. He, uh… Ferguson ran a cop off the road, and they’re both missing.”

“Who?” Tim asks, urgency and panic lacing the syllable.

Before Wade can answer, dispatch reads your badge number in a missing officer alert, and Tim’s blood runs cold. He freezes, staring at Wade as he realizes what has happened and that it’s his fault. Tim never anticipated Ferguson going for the people Tim cares about – loves – and he should have.

“Let me go out there,” Tim demands lowly. “I can find her.”

“I shouldn’t,” Wade answers. He looks to Lucy and adds, “But I will. Don’t try to do this alone, Bradford. Take help where you can get it.”

“I don’t want the credit; I want her back,” Tim snaps.

“Then get to the reservoir and do what you do best, Tim.”

Lucy nods at Wade, an unspoken promise that she’ll do her best to help him and keep him from spiraling. They both know that it’s easier said than done.

“Tim,” you call out when you wake.

“Nope, just me,” Ferguson says.

He’s sitting across from you as he carves a piece of wood into a chipmunk. Your arms are tied tightly behind you, and one of your ankles is secured to a metal pole with your handcuffs. Whatever he’s planning to do to you will hurt you, but it will hurt Tim much worse.

“I hope you’re asking for a lot of ransom,” you mumble.

“You and I both know this isn’t about money. It’s about that little partner of yours and what he did to me.”

“Making you pay for your crimes? Yeah, he’s a terrible person.”

Ferguson moves forward quickly. The half-finished wood carving falls to the floor as he presses the knife under your jaw.

“These whittling knives are small, but I can cut an artery before you can call out to him again,” he threatens.

You swallow, causing the knife to bob in his hand. He presses harder and turns to the left before standing. Warm blood trickles down your neck, and you wonder what he plans to do to you before he kills you. If you didn’t have so much faith in Tim, you’d be tempted to anger Ferguson and trick him into killing you early. It’s a terrible thing to think, but at the end of the day, you’re a cop, and you know when your chances aren’t good enough. Right now, they are.

“When he gets here, he will put a bullet in you this time,” you tell Ferguson.

“You stopped him last time,” he answers.

He’s planning to use you as a human shield; let Tim be the one to finish you off in the darkness. Perhaps that’s why you’re underground. The only light you see is from a small lamp; when it goes off, you will be plunged into complete darkness.

“Stop talking,” Ferguson demands as he retrieves his chipmunk. “We don’t have much air in here.”

You try not to let your shock show, but as you look around and fail to see a single air vent, you worry that Tim won’t make it in time. Forcing yourself to take a steady breath, you close your eyes.

“No, no, no,” Ferguson chides. “No napping. We have to stay awake for the pre-game, and the final score.”

He tips your head back, and your eyes open instinctually. When he sees that, he tightens his grip on your jaw and circles you. Looking at him upside-down, you tug against your restraints. He raises a foot and places it on your bound hands before stepping down hard and fast. Your shoulders pull backward at a painful angle with no room that makes you yell in pain. Ferguson’s laugh drowns out your scream, and he keeps his hand on your jaw as he lays a rope over the back of your neck to hang over your shoulders.

“He’s going to kill you,” you say between pants when Ferguson releases your face.

He hinges at his hip, invading your personal space as he smiles and says, “You too.”

“Bradford, there’s blood,” an officer alerts.

Tim steps to your open shop door and sees a few small, oblong blood drops on your seat. Based on the shape, you were in motion when they fell, and it wasn’t enough blood to kill you.

“Probably from the glass,” he decides. “Let’s move toward the reservoir. We can’t tell footprints apart but watch where you’re stepping!”

“Tim!” Lucy yells from just past the tree line.

He jogs to her side and looks down. She found a small, laminated piece of paper, and Tim recognizes it immediately. Your self-proclaimed “perfect fortune” from one of your first dinners together as P2s rather than rookies. He picks it up and looks toward the water. He’s looking in the right place, you made sure to tell him that, but he feels like he’s missing something else.

“Please,” you whimper, even though you know he can’t hear you.

“How many more times do I have to tell you?” Ferguson asks. “He’s not here.”

The only thing on your mind is Tim because if you stop thinking about him you’ll only know the unbearable pain and the man inflicting it. Ferguson places his foot between your legs, pushing against the chair slowly. It tips back, and you close your eyes and imagine Tim catching you. It doesn’t stop the initial pain of your leg being held in one place by the handcuffs as the rest of your body moves back or the scream you release as you hit the floor, but it does give you a reason to keep fighting. Ferguson pulls you up nearly as fast as he tipped you over, and the rope digs in against the side of your neck.

“This is the best workout I’ve ever had,” he says.

He wipes the sheen of sweat from his forehead, and you notice how hot and thick the air seems. Ferguson admitted that the air supply was limited, so if you start wasting it, maybe he will leave.

“If you call him…” you begin slowly. “Let me hear Tim Bradford’s voice one more time, and I will lure him here for you.”

“Do you think I’m dumb?” Ferguson asks.

You nod and immediately regret it when he pulls the rope and forces your head down toward your chest.

“I’m not letting you take control. This is my plan, and it ends beautifully.”

“I can’t do this!” Tim yells.

He runs his hands over the back of his head and down his face as he squats by the reservoir. There are no other hints about where Ferguson took you, nothing to guide Tim toward saving you, only dirt and broken promises. He told you that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you; Tim whispered the promise in the dead of night when you were asleep during an overnight patrol, yet he’s holding himself to keeping it like it will kill him if he doesn’t. Because it will.

“Tim don’t give up yet,” Lucy encourages. She lowers beside him and lays a hand on his back. “We can do this, but we have to work together. The paper means something right? Could it be more than an indication she was here?”

Tim wipes under his eye, and Lucy’s eyes widen as she realizes tears are streaming down his cheeks. He stops them quickly, but she pats his back to remind him he’s not fighting alone. You’re fighting, too, and Tim needs to remember that.

“Lucy, I lo-“ Tim stops suddenly, though Lucy is confident she knows where he was going. “I know what it means.”

He stands quickly, and Lucy follows him to the place where they found the fortune. The little strip of paper from a fortune cookie has been in your pocket since you read it, but not only for the encouraging message on the front.

“34831,” Tim says.

“Your badge number?” Lucy asks, tilting her head to the side. “What about it?”

“It was on the back of my fortune that night. Hers, though, didn’t have a number. So, we wrote one on it.”

“What’s the number?”

“2 25 12 9. I didn’t think she’d know what it meant.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s an alphabet cypher, but backward.”

“B, Y, L, I,” Tim rattles off. “If she had this, she may have left more clues at those points: 2, 25, 12, and 9.”

“This would have been about 2,” Lucy says, gesturing to the ground. “That’s what, 2 meters from the car?”

Tim furrows his brows at Lucy’s use of meters but nods anyway.

“We can’t walk 25 meters forward, we’d be in the water,” Lucy points out.

“Then we need to spread out in every direction we can go 25 meters… Unless I’m wrong.”

“Don’t question it.”

“No, she would’ve fought. He wouldn’t have been able to make her go anywhere if she wasn’t willing to. We should assume that she couldn’t leave a trail after this point.”

“Then we’re back where we started?”

“Exactly.”

“Tim, what does that even mean?”

“She’s still here. They both are.”

Tim turns and yells for someone to get satellite imaging of the area and the camera footage from your car. Your body cam and police uniform shirt were discarded by the water but the cameras could tell them what happened before and during the initial attack.

“We’ll find her, Tim,” Lucy promises again.

“Thank you,” Tim whispers.

Running footsteps echo over the top of the tin deathtrap you’re in. Someone yells, and Ferguson ducks his head as he moves out of your sight.

“Tim!” you yell.

Your voice cracks, and as you prepare to yell again, Ferguson pulls the rope around your neck. It digs into your skin and compresses your windpipe. Tears begin leaking from your eyes, and after the day you’ve had, you don’t care to stop them.

“Tim, please,” you whisper.

“Welcome to the final round,” Ferguson says into your ear.

He loosens the rope and pushes your chair forward. His foot pulls down against your hands again, pulling your shoulder muscles cruelly as they stretch to accommodate the impossible movement. You scream in agony as Ferguson pushes you past the point he stopped at previously.

“Did you stop to ask yourself what he’s thinking? Wouldn’t he have found you sooner if he cared? I’ve been out long enough that he knew, yet he let you out by yourself,” Ferguson taunts.

“You won’t win,” you say between ragged breaths.

Ferguson pulls your head to the side to hold the whittling knife against your windpipe, and the cut he made earlier pulls open. Your white shirt is stained with blood and tears, and even as your blinks slow and breathing begins to feel impossible, you trust Tim.

“The almighty Tim Bradford isn’t coming to save you. You know why? Because you’re already dead,” Ferguson says.

You force your eyes open and ignore the pain and fear to say, “So are you.”

Throwing your head backward, you ignore the sting of his knife sliding across the tender skin of your neck. Your skull hits Ferguson’s nose, and he staggers backward with a hand holding his face. Suddenly, you can’t pull a full breath into your lungs. Time has run out, and Tim isn’t here yet. You hold your breath as Ferguson stumbles behind you. He drops, and you see his hand and face are covered in blood. His chest rises and falls slowly, but you’re safe until the rest of the oxygen is used up.

“Tim,” you whisper toward the metal sheet above you.

“Wait!” Lucy calls. “The ground is hollow here.”

Tim returns to Lucy’s side and hears his footsteps echo. It sounds like there’s a metal sheeting under the dirt beneath his boots. He raises a hand to call a few officers over before someone screams. It’s muffled by the metal and earth, but it’s a clear sign of pain. Better than that, it means someone is still alive.

“Find a way in,” Tim demands quietly.

As he searches the area around the hollow spot, he wishes to hear your voice again. Not another scream, but an acknowledgement that you survived whatever caused you such agony.

"Bradford!” Janssen calls.

He waves Tim over and points to a small opening. Together, they lift the heavy steel cover away from the round hole. Another barrier of cloth and metal sheets blocks the entrance, and as Tim digs through, he wonders how much air is getting through, if any. The moment he can see inside the fortified bunker, he pulls his weapon and drops silently into the metal housing.

What was likely meant to be a storm shelter has been converted into a survivalist’s nightmare. A small corridor leads to a wider opening, and a dim light is the only sign that anyone is inside. Tim raises his guns and stays ready to shoot as he nears the opening.

“Tim,” you whisper.

Tim hears your voice and doesn’t hesitate to step into the open room and swing his gun as he clears the small, square area. Ferguson lies unconscious in the corner, and Tim can only see your back, the restraints keeping you in place, and the rope loosely wrapped around your neck and shoulders.

Your shoulders shake as you exhale slowly. When you notice that you can breathe again, you take a deep breath before letting your head fall forward.

“Tim,” you repeat, trying not to think of anything else.

Tim says your name as he holsters his gun. You sit up straight and try to turn your head to the side but are stopped by the pull of the rope and the pain in your shoulders. You hiss in pain before returning to your previous position.

“You can’t trick me, Roscoe,” you mumble.

Tim steps toward Ferguson and handcuffs him. He repeats your name as he moves into your line of sight. His hands are raised to his shoulders, though his expression is pure concern. When he sees the blood, sweat, and dirt covering you and your clothes, he has to fight not to rush to your side.

“Tim,” you say again. Your voice is louder than before but still has an untrusting quality. “Tim.”

When you start crying and lean toward Tim, he kneels before you. He reaches down carefully to use his key and remove the handcuff from your ankle. Your head rests on his shoulder as he moves, and when he sees the damage done to your ankle, the swelling, deep bruising, and handcuff-induced gash, he looks back at Ferguson.

Tim sits up slowly and raises a hand toward your face. He pushes your hair back softly and waits until your eyes meet to speak.

“I need to go get backup,” he says.

“No, no! Please don’t leave me, Tim,” you plead through your slowing tears.

You lean forward and wince when your shoulder meets its new range of motion.

“I need to get Ferguson out of here,” Tim explains. “There’s a lot of people above us waiting for me to signal.”

“Tim, please.”

“Can I yell?”

You swallow as Tim moves closer to you. He stops an inch away from you, with your knees almost touching his ribs.

“I’m not going to yell unless you say I can,” he adds.

Tim waits for your nod, then leans away from you slightly to yell for Janssen and Lucy to come in.

“Help me,” you whisper when Tim’s eyes return to you.

He sits back on his heels as he unloops the rope from around you. It’s heavy, and he sees your shoulders drop once it’s away from you. They drop unevenly, though, and he knows you need more help than he can give you.

“I’m staying with you,” Tim promises, “but I have to untie your hands.”

You shake your head quickly, and Tim moves his hands to the sides of your thighs as he agrees not to leave. He asks Lucy to free your hands and keeps his hands on you as Lucy cuts the restraints.

“Thank you,” you say.

Tim doesn’t answer before you pull your arms forward. With them free, you don’t hesitate to raise them and wrap them around his shoulders. It hurts, and you sob as you fall forward and cling to Tim. He welcomes your touch and wraps his arms around your waist, but he doesn’t touch you, too mindful of how injured you are and where those unseen injuries are.

“I knew you’d come,” you say through your tears.

Tim looks over your shoulder as Janssen and a few other officers carry Ferguson to the opening. He should call an EMT to meet you here, but he can’t let you go yet. His grip tightens around your waist without thinking. When your only reaction is relaxing against him, Tim holds you as tightly as he needs to. Your tears are drying, and you turn your face toward Tim’s neck to speak.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t leave more clues,” you begin. “But I knew you didn’t need them.”

“The paper was smart,” Tim replies. “And I will always find you.”

“He wanted to lure you down here and trick you into killing me. Every time I called out for you he reminded me that we would both die.”

Tim exhales deeply, unsure how to tell you he knows you and he’d never make that mistake. He sits back, twisting you so that he’s holding you against his chest rather than letting you support your own weight.

“It hurts,” you say softly.

“Can you get out of here? Go up the ladder?” he asks.

“There’s a ladder?”

Tim’s brows furrow at your question. How did Ferguson get you down here if you weren’t conscious when you came in? He shakes his head; the detectives (and Tim) will look into the details of your abduction later. For now, your safety is the priority.

“Can you climb out?” Tim asks.

“Not without help,” you answer. “I don’t think I can walk.”

Tim looks at your ankle again, and his eyes catch on the fresh blood pooling against your collarbone. He leans closer to you to find the source. When he sees the cut across the front of your neck, he knows you need help sooner rather than later.

“Hold on,” he instructs you.

“I- I can’t move my shoulder.”

Tim lays you against the metal floor and looks at your left shoulder. It’s out of its socket, but Tim can’t risk pushing it back in without knowing if your muscles or ligaments are still intact.

“Please just get me out of here.”

Tim nods and turns around so your hips are beside his shoulders. He leans down and pulls your legs over his shoulder rather than your arms. With one hand pressing your shoulder to your side, Tim stands and pulls you up in a modified fireman’s carry. You stifle the yell that tries to escape, and Tim’s heart breaks when he hears it. He spent so much time fighting, desperate to find you, that he didn’t consider how different things would be when he did.

With the help of Janssen, Nolan, and Lucy, Tim gets you back above ground. He collapses to the ground but makes sure you’re set down with care. You reach out for him immediately, and Tim pulls your chest to his again. The paramedics are close, but until they arrive, Tim will hold you like he never has.

“I’m so sorry,” Tim whispers.

“You found me,” you reply. “You found me.”

Your right hand squeezes Tim’s shirt in your hand as you hold onto him. You didn’t doubt him for a second. Being in his arms gives you the safety and comfort you need to fall apart because you know he’ll hold you together.

“I know what it means,” you say. “Or I think I do. B-Y-L-I; it’s backwards, right?”

Tim nods against you, and you smile through your tears. The paramedics arrive, and you’re carefully removed from Tim’s grasp, though his hand stays in yours. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to let go, but Tim has already made a new promise, and he won’t leave your side until he’s forced to.

“Where’s Kojo?” you ask as Tim leads you into his house.

“He’s staying with Lucy tonight. He gets excited when he sees you and I didn’t want him to hurt you,” Tim answers.

He guides you to the couch and sits beside you after placing your things in his guest bedroom. Tim refused to let you return to your apartment alone after being discharged from the hospital, and you didn’t need much convincing to stay with him while you heal.

You lean your head against Tim’s shoulder, careful not to jostle your shoulder in its sling. He moves his arm to welcome you closer and tilts his head to rest beside yours.

“It’s I love you backward, right?”

Tim looks down at your hand, surprised to see your fortune in it. He takes it from you and flips it to see his handwriting. He nods and sits up straight. When you turn toward Tim, he wipes under your eyes as if he can still see the tears you cried when he saved you. Your skin is littered with scars and reminders of what Ferguson did to you, but Tim still seems to only see you underneath all of it.

“It’s I love you, Bradford,” he answers. “Whether you wanted that to mean ‘from Bradford’ or something else.”

“I begged for you to save me while I was down there with him.”

“I’m-“

“Don’t apologize. I just- I need you to know I trust you that much because I know you love me. I’ve known for a long time. But I also knew that even if you didn’t find me in time, I would die loving you. And life was worth living because you were in it.”

Tim’s hands rise out of his lap before freezing. He looks down at your neck and back to your eyes before smiling. His eyes look misty, but you know yours are, too, so you decide not to tease him about it this one time.

“I don’t know where I’m supposed to put my hands to kiss you,” he mumbles.

You hold his shoulder as you lean in and kiss him. His hands raise to your waist without thought, and other than the soreness of using your obliques to search for Tim while tied in place, it’s a painless touch. Tim moves slowly and intentionally as he kisses you, reminding you of everything he said and did, even what you weren’t present for.

“I love you, Tim Bradford,” you say against his lips.

“I love you. I will always love you, and I will never lose you again.”

Tim slides the fortune into your pocket as he kisses you again, and every pain and fear you faced disappears because you know Tim will always find you and make you whole.

#hanna writes✯#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #requests #fem!reader #the rookie abc

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cherryredstars · 11 months ago

Text

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Mike Schmidt, Hobie Brown, Miles-42 x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Suggestive Content with Miguel, A Little Bit of Angst with Miles

Summary: How would the boys treat you on your birthday?

A/N: In honor of my birthday (WOO)!

Word Count: 1.7K (Unedited)

Miguel O'Hara

You hang out with him in his office at HQ all day. He has your favorite food delivered to base, and you spend the whole day talking his ear off as he works. Today is the only day he doesn't mind people coming in and out of his office, as long as they do so to wish you a happy birthday.

He has LYLA keep you company, finding her only a tad bit less annoying, even as she randomly breaks out into happy birthday and makes birthday memes pop up on his screen like a virus. He only wants to strangle her when she keeps making birthday sex jokes and hinting a little too much at the gifts waiting for you at home.

When the two of you do make it home, you're excited to see the pile of gifts overflowing in the living room. Some of them are from the spiders in HQ, but more than one is from Miguel. You guys get take out, and spend the rest of the night opening gifts. You guys laugh at the ones from the younger spider-people, and try not to cringe at the more questionable ones (a difference in universe maybe?).

When the two of you finish going through the gifts and ate all the food, Miguel pulls you up off the floor. He gives you a cheeky smile, leading you towards the bedroom for one last birthday present. Huh, I guess LYLA was right about the birthday sex.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

As much as he wants to, he can't ask to go on leave in advance. Even if he did send in the request, it would be hastily denied. Going on leave because of a singular day and for a non-emergency cause? The higher ups would laugh in his face. So, his only hope is to not be deployed during that time.

If he is deployed during that time, he'll keep his eye on the clock, counting down the seconds until it hits midnight in your timezone. Then, at exactly zero hundred hours, your phone will light up with a message from Simon. It's a simple "Happy birthday. Miss you." text, but it makes you smile nonetheless. If you're lucky, you might get a voice message from all of 141 wishing you a happy birthday, horrible, off-key singing from Soap included! And if you're really lucky, you might even get a call if Simon's in a good, secure location where he knows his cellular usage can't be tracked or intercepted.

He already got a gift for you in advance. He'll tell you where he hid it, or tell you to keep an ear out for the doorbell. If he hid it, you rush over to the hiding spot, setting your phone up to record a video for him. You make a big show of it to keep him entertained, and at the end of the video you thank him repeatedly for the gift, adding in that you miss him and you'll see him when he comes back home. When he gets gifts delivered to you, it's usually flowers and maybe something extra like an Amazon package. You put your new flowers in the nicest vase you have, sending Simon a picture and heart emojis.

If-by the grace of god- he's home on your birthday, you get spoiled silly. Today is all about you and what you want to do. Breakfast in bed? Okay, waffles or pancakes? Movie night? Okay, it's your pick. Drinks at the pub? Let's stop to get a pack first. Simon does prefer to stay in with you on your birthday, but again, if you want to have a night out on the town, he's happy to follow along. Though, if you do stay home, don't look in the fridge! You don't want to risk taking a peak at the cake he bought, do you?

Mike Schmidt

Called out of work the day before. He wakes up super early, slipping out of bed to wake up Abby. She complains a little, and you have to pretend you weren't awake the second Mike got out of bed and you have to stifle your laughter at her grumbling out in the hall. The smell of breakfast is strong, and you wait a good 11 minutes (it would be too perfect if it was an even number), before slipping out of bed. You act all surprised when you walk into the kitchen, catching them making you breakfast. They instantly drag you into a chair, making you sit as they plate your food and slide over your coffee. You have to fight your tears when Abby gives you a hand drawn birthday card. Just for that, she can steal a bit of your bacon.

The three of you just spend the day at home. You draw with Abby, thanking her for all the birthday drawings. The three of you make a mess in the kitchen as you make the birthday cake, and somehow frosting gets stuck in all of your hair. You sing happy birthday after dinner, which of course is your favorite meal, and the three of you settle onto the couch to watch TV. You allow Abby to stay up until she falls asleep on the sofa.

Once she's gone to bed, Mike pulls you close to his side, pressing a kiss to your lips and muttering another happy birthday. You smile at him, and it grows wider when he pulls your gift from his pocket. The two of you are silent as you open it, and you gasp when you see what's inside. You thank him with a million smooches on his face, that makes him chuckle. Then, when it gets too late and the both of you remember he has work tomorrow, you retreat back to the bedroom for some much needed rest. Clean up is for another day.

Hobie Brown

Is it really a surprise that he forgets it's your birthday? Hey, in his defense, time and dates are just a social construct made to control the natural world!

He only remembers when one of his (current) band mates or a Spider in the society ask him what he has planned for your birthday. He knows he's fucked the second they ask him. He has nothing planned, he has yet to say happy birthday to you despite talking to you just this morning, and to top it all off, he has only just realized you were hinting about it throughout your morning conversation. And do you want to know what he said in response to your, Hobie, baby, do you think something important is happening today? Trust me, you don't because his answer may or may not have been, Unless 10 Downing is fist bumping a wrecking ball today, then no. Yeah, did he mention he was fucked?

So, in true Hobie fashion, he's gonna think quick and get himself out of trouble. What could he use as the perfect excuse for completely forgetting your birthday? Make it seem intentional! And how do you make it seem intentional? Throwing a totally killer surprise party that would give the PM a heart attack! He recruits the help of his band mates and Gwen, setting up your favorite venue that the band played in for a previous gig. He gets you a cake, a funny card, and some random trinkets he sees along the way. He'll have the band play anything you request or the night. Oh, don't forget your own friends! He'll let them know before he picks you up.

He's totally casual when he returns to the flat, all nonchalant as he tells you to get dressed up. When you ask why, he just shrugs and says riot. You stare at him like you expect him to say something extra, but you sigh when he doesn't. With your back turned to him, he allows himself to briefly flicker red. When he gets you to the venue, you're happily surprised, bumping into him and teasing that you thought he forgot. He chuckles nervously in response, finally wishing you a happy birthday. At the end of the night, after you got the celebration you deserved and the two of you lay at home in a half-awake state, he admits the truth to you when you're too sleepy to get mad at him. Hey, real men admit to their mistakes and fear the wrath of their partners.

Miles 42

He does the thing. You know, the obnoxious thing where you show up to school, and then suddenly you have a brightly colored birthday stash over your shoulder and a gift bag attached to 50 different HAPPY BIRTHDAY balloons? Yeah, he does that shit, and he does it with PRIDE. He will be damned if you aren't walking the halls and a stranger randomly yells out a birthday greeting to you in passing. You better hope you don't have any classes with him, because every class you guys share, he's making them sing happy birthday. Even if you get embarrassed and melt into your chair. At lunch, he's already got a birthday cupcake waiting for you and he did, in fact, skip the last period just so he could go get your favorite takeout to make sure it's still hot.

Rio definitely invited you over for dinner, and he spends the whole meal telling his Ma all about the things he did for you today. It makes her laugh, and she playfully swats the back of his head when you whine about how embarrassed you were all day.

When dinner is done, Miles drags you out of his house and walks you down to the familiar streets to the car lot. He helps you in, and you gasp when you see the inside of the car. He has candles placed carefully around, and a cake sits in the back seat with plastic forks and more gifts. Your smile is goofy as he quietly sings happy birthday to you, and you blow out the candle as he whoops and hollers playfully. The two of you dig into the cake, having quiet conversation until you feel like you'll throw up from all the sugar.

But as you're about to open the last of your gifts, his phone begins to ring. Looks like your birthday wish didn’t come true after all.

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delulujuls · 1 year ago

Text

emotional support rivals | ls18, sp11

hi! i dont know how to comment on this one, basically i thought that i would try to tame sergio and lance a bit because i know that some people may not like them as much. but they did pretty well here!

anyway, enjoy!

summary: reader is having the worst day of her life aka first day of her period, lance and sergio dont know how to act but they tryna be supportive

warnings: none i think

pairing: lance stroll x fem!mclarendriver x sergio perez

This day was terrible. And that was it.

But you might ask, how could a day be terrible when it hadn't even had a chance to start? Y/N just felt in her bones that this would be the case. She also knew her current schedule of duties, which considering the current jetlag that weighed heavily on her mind, added quite a bit to her already full plate.

Of course, days like these were allowed to exist; balance in life was the norm. Nevertheless, Y/N fervently wished for this one to, as soon as possible, come to an end.

Unfortunately, a quick end was out of the question, as her alarm had just rung. She struggled to open her sleepy eyes and saw the gloomy 6:30 on her phone's display.

She sighed and sat up in bed, feeling an unpleasant sensation in her stomach. She was familiar with this feeling and it signaled one thing and one thing only.

"Oh no, it can't be."

Y/N muttered under her breath and quickly reached for her phone, opening one of the apps. The notification confirmed her worst fear. "Your period may start today!"

"Fantastic, just fucking fantastic."

In a already bad mood, she tossed her phone into the pillows and got up with a symphony of groans, sighs and curses. As soon as she got out of bed she checked the sheets but the snowy white fabric assured her that today would be a one big roulette of waiting for her period to start.

When she showered and got ready to leave, she also packed her emergency kit for days like this. She had to use it partially though, because the pain in her stomach was simply unbearable. And it wasn't the typical stomach ache that everyone thinks of when they hear 'oh no, my stomach hurts' but this stomach pain was the Lance Stroll of all stomach pains. It doesn't seem to hurt too much, but it spoils your whole mood with its terrible nature.

Since talking about Stroll, it happened like that she still had practice laps that day, which she failed to pass while everyone else did. As it turned out, the same task was waiting for Lance, because in the cafeteria, apart from the busy employees, there was him. And that damn Mexican, too.

"What time are you supposed to be on the track?"

Checo asked from behind her when she was grabbing breakfast from one of the swedish tables.

"What happened to 'hi, good morning'? 'Buenos dias,' at least?"

She muttered, pouring syrup on her pancakes.

"Normally you don't talk to me, so I figured there's no point in trying."

He replied, somewhat thrown off by her response.

"Hello Sergio, nice to see you too and yes, it just happens that we're stuck with each other today. I'm on at 10am, you're ahead of me at 9, and that Aston idiot is at 11."

Y/N said sarcastically, putting on the nicest tone she could muster.

Sergio didn't know how to respond, so when she turned to leave for her table, he simply stepped out of her way.

Lance ate in silence, observing the scene quietly. He was watching the McLaren sun, today completely covered by stormy clouds, going away and sitting alone. Inadvertently his gaze met with Checo, who just shook his head and returned to choosing his breakfast.

Y/N sighed heavily, sitting at one of the empty seats. She ate absentmindedly, not used to the absence of Oscar and Lando. They had different things to attend to that day, so it wasn't unlikely that they wouldn't even cross paths. Maybe it was even better for them; each of them would probably receive a monthly dose of sulking. The charms of being the only girl in the company could be really tough at times.

And it's not that Y/N was a pain in the ass only for Oscar and Lando. She got along well with most people she interacted with daily. A few times she even went out with other girls; she wasn't limiting herself to the company of guys only. Unfortunately, Oscar and Lando had happened to take a particular liking to each other, which made the trio basically unseparable.

There were people with whom she didn't have frequent contact, or with whom she only exchanged smiles in passing but she had never had the chance to exchange a word.

It's also known that in life you can't be liked by everyone and not everyone can be liked by you. In this case, there was no magical exception. It just so happened that she would spend today in the company of those people who sat at the other end of the cafeteria, occasionally throwing her stolen glances.

After finishing her meal, the girl got down to her duties, wanting to bring this day to an end as quickly as possible. At the appointed time, she appeared on the track, quickly changing into her racing suit. She put on her helmet and after a brief discussion of notes, she sat in the car. That's when she felt that something was wrong. The worst-case scenario flashed before her eyes.

"Can I quickly go to the bathroom?"

She asked, looking at the technician nearest to her.

"We're a bit behind schedule. Can it wait?"

Y/N resignedly nodded. She knew there was nothing left to salvage.

She adjusted her straps and when she got the signal to leave the garage, she drove outside and headed straight for the track. After the radio test and receiving permission to start, she clenched her fists and roared the engine.

She was angry and as it's known, there's nothing worse than a female rage.

She was angry at this day, at herself, at this damn car. She was angry at the bloodstain on her damn orange suit, even though she hadn't seen it yet.

She was so hormonal that if it weren't for the helmet restricting her movements, she would have screamed at the top of her lungs.

However, female anger was priceless.

"Best lap time, I repeat, best lap time."

She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, not responding to the message.

In moments like this, she didn't care about anything. And it's pretty well known that a person who doesn't care has nothing to lose.

When the session ended and she received the message that she could pull into the pit lane, she complied. Mechanics rolled her into the garage and only then did it dawn on her that her hands were still clenched on the steering wheel. When she managed to free herself from the car, she immediately checked her seat. She cursed under her breath and took off her helmet, placing it aside. Quickly grabbing the nearest rag, she began to wipe away the stain of shame on her seat. The technician, whom she asked about going to the bathroom before the start, when he realized what had happened and what she was doing, just gave her an apologetic look.

She unzipped her suit and slid its top off, covering the stain on her backside. Zac wanted to congratulate her on the result and discuss the outcomes, but she apologized and grabbed her emergency kit, heading straight to the bathroom. She changed into her unstained clothes, guarded against another unpleasant surprise and bundled up the suit, muttering under her breath that a visit to the laundry awaited her later that day.

When she returned to the McLaren garage, Zac, upon seeing her, immediately smiled.

"Young lady, you charmed us today! You literally flew in that car!"

"I guess that's good, I think."

The girl replied, mustering a smile as she glanced at the monitors in front of her.

"Good? It's brilliant!"

Zac replied with a smile and checked his notes.

"After checking the car, I would ask you to put on your suit again for a moment because we need to do a few more laps on different tires."

"I thought that was it for today."

Y/N replied, looking at him.

"Now, you were driving on mediums; it would be good to know what time you can achieve on the hard compound."

The girl tightened her suit under her armpit.

"But—"

She started, but it felt silly, so she lowered her voice and approached him, "My suit is not suitable."

"How so? What happened?"

He frowned and looked at the bundle she was holding.

"I won't be able to drive in it anymore today."

Zac looked confused, so she just said "period" without using any words. He quickly understood and immediately nodded his head.

"Ask someone if we have another suit in stock. It would mean a lot to me if we could finish these tests today."

Y/N nodded and walked away, sighing heavily when she was out of his reach. However, as it turned out, racing suits are not as straightforward as one might think and the only McLaren suit in this garage was hers—rolled up into a ball of shame and unfit for use. One of the women upon hearing her situation only gave her a comforting hug and suggested borrowing a suit from Sergio or Lance, taking advantage of the fact that they were only drivers nearby. The situation was exceptional and it was all about internal measurements.

Disheartened by the fact that she would be forced to confront the men, she left the garage and looked around. Checo and Lance were sitting nearby, chatting in front of the Aston Martin garage. Y/N gathered herself and approached them, causing them to immediately pause their conversation.

"Can I borrow a suit from either of you?"

"You drive for McLaren, not for Aston or Red Bull."

Sergio said, taking a sip from his bottle. The girl involuntarily clenched her fists. Be professional, she thought and took a deep breath.

"If I didn't have to, I wouldn't ask. I need a suit; mine... is not suitable for driving."

"What happened?"

Lance asked, glancing at her. His expression lacked the hint of malice that Sergio currently possessed.

"I just need one; is that not enough?"

"Give a good reason and I might even give you mine."

Pérez said, crossing his arms.

"I just got my period which means my suit is having a fucking bloodstain on my ass and even though I feel like they're cutting me in half completely alive I have to do some extra laps because this fucking fat idiot didn't think about pitstop to change my tyres and let me go straight to the track" Y/N she spoke quietly and calmly, but her voice was dripping with fury "So do me the pleasure and let one of you give me your overalls before something hits me, for fucks sake."

Lance and Sergio stood still. Sergio's face lost its fierce expression and Lance suddenly realized that he had started holding his breath out of stress.

"I'll give you mine, no problem."

Stroll spoke up, starting to unzip his suit.

"Yours is light, you idiot; if something happens again, everything will be visible."

Pérez scolded him and turned his gaze back to the girl.

"Wait a moment; I'll bring you mine right away."

Y/N nodded and watched him leave.

"Do you feel very bad?"

Lance asked, looking at her. He couldn't wrap his head around how the girl standing in front of him, bleeding and all, could endure such a great strain and still set the best lap time.

"It's been better."

She sighed.

Lance, not knowing exactly what to do or how to help, reached out his hand with a bottle in it. Y/N looked at the bottle first and then at his face. Seeing that he was genuinely concerned, she whispered a quiet 'thanks' and took the water from him.

Sergio returned shortly after, handing her his suit.

"I hope it'll fit well for you."

The girl handed back Lance his water and thanked Pérez as well.

"Good luck, tigresa."

Y/N nodded at them one last time and returned to the garage, changing into the borrowed suit and taking her place in the car again.

As she sat there, waiting for permission to leave the pit lane, she noticed that she wasn't angry anymore, at least not as much as she was some time ago. When she drove out and headed towards the track, she passed Lance and Sergio once again, who were giving her thumbs up.

For the first time that day Y/N genuinely smiled and who would have thought it would be thanks to her rivals, who had now become her emotional support ones?

#f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #lance stroll x reader #sergio perez x reader #sp11 #ls18

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