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bradshawsbaby · 3 months

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Sprinkles of Love

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: It's Bob's birthday and you want to do something special for him. The problem is that you've only been on two dates, and you can't get out of your head about making that first move.

Word Count: 6.6k

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday to my #1 Guy, Lewis Pullman! I thought we all deserved some sweet Bob fluff to celebrate!

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, featuring the jitters and nervousness that comes with a new relationship.

You glanced at your phone for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, your fingers itching to reach for it where it sat taunting you on the counter near the cash register.

Biting down on your lower lip, you peeked surreptitiously over your shoulder before finally picking it up, your finger hovering hesitantly over the green messages icon.

“Are you finally going to text him or are you just going to keep staring longingly at your phone all day?”

Your cousin’s teasing voice startled you, pulling you out of your silent reverie as you fumbled the phone, nearly dropping it to the floor in your haste to get a grip on it and shove it inside your apron pocket.

Alexandria just laughed in response, her dark eyes sparkling as she slid a tray of freshly baked oatmeal raisin cookies onto one of the display case shelves. Normally, you would have complimented her on how amazing they smelled, but given the knowing smirk she was sending your way, you stuck your tongue out at her instead.

“Stick your tongue out at me all you want,” she told you, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “But I know you, and I know how badly you want to text him. So why don’t you just do it already and save yourself all the torment?”

“Lexie,” you groaned, your phone suddenly feeling like a rock inside your pocket. Why did your cousin have to know you like the back of her hand?

You were saved from having to elaborate, however, when one of the timers dinged in the kitchen, signaling that the newest batch of muffins you and Lex had put in a little while ago was finished. She shot a pointed look in your direction, making it clear the conversation wasn’t over, before turning on her heel and going to take the muffins out of the oven.

Since it was the usual mid-morning lull and the only customers currently inside the bakery were a college student working on her laptop near the window and two elderly ladies enjoying conversation over scones and tea, you figured you should be both a good cousin and a good employee and go help Lexie in the back.

Despite the fact that you had already been working at the bakery for a few months now—ever since you had moved to San Diego—you still couldn’t help but be blown away whenever it hit you that your cousin had really accomplished the dream she’d been chasing since you were little girls. For as long as you could remember, Alexandria had been wanting to open up her very own bakery, a cozy little spot where people could come to read, hang out, and relax, all while enjoying some homemade treats and delicious coffee. It seemed like just yesterday that the two of you were playing with her Easy-Bake Oven, and now here she was—living the dream as a successful small business owner. You couldn’t have been more proud of her. Or more grateful that she’d given you both a job and a place to live when you’d decided to follow in her footsteps and make the move out to California.

Lex was like the big sister you never had. She gave the best advice and she knew you inside and out. Which was normally a good thing, but judging by the way she was looking at you from under her dark lashes, you knew today was going to be one of those days where she insisted on pushing you out of your comfort zone.

You sighed in exasperation as you helped her set the freshly baked orange cranberry muffins—a favorite among her loyal customers—on the cooling rack. “I wish I hadn’t even mentioned it. It’s not that big of a deal,” you insisted, supremely conscious of the weight of your phone pressing against your thigh as you worked.

“If it’s not that big of a deal, then why do you seem to be making it one?” Lexie replied with that razor-sharp wit of hers, winking when you shot her a dirty look over your shoulder.

“I’m not!” you insisted, although you knew that was a complete and total lie. You were being ridiculous and you knew it, but every time you even thought about sending him a message, your heart started pounding inside your chest and your palms got all gross and clammy.

Lex crossed her arms over her chest, throwing an exasperated look heavenward. “Babe, you’ve already been on two dates with him and he wants to take you out on another. Do you seriously think you’re going to send him running for the hills if you send him a text wishing him a happy birthday?”

When you heard it out loud, it did sound pretty stupid. He was such a great guy, so sweet and attentive and caring, and he had done nothing to indicate that he was losing interest or that he would be freaked out by such a simple message. But still…

“I do want to text him,” you confessed, biting your lip as you carried the empty muffin tray over to the large sink where your cousin washed all her baking supplies.

“So what’s holding you back?” Lexie asked, her voice gentler this time as she leaned her hip against the counter, clearly trying to understand. She’d seen your heart get broken enough times to know that you were much more cautious now when it came to entrusting it to other people.

You sighed softly, fiddling with the strings on your pink-and-white striped apron as you tried to put your feelings into words. “It’s just—we’ve only been on two dates. I mean, they were really amazing dates, but still. Only two. And our birthdays only came up once in passing on our first date. He never mentioned it again, even when he called the other night to ask me if I’d like to go out this weekend. So on the one hand, I do want to text him to wish him a happy birthday, but on the other hand, what if it weirds him out that I remembered? What if he thinks I’m some kind of obsessive stalker and gets the ick and then ghosts me?”

“For wishing him a happy birthday?” your cousin questioned skeptically, her eyebrows rising until they were practically touching the edges of her blunt bangs.

“I’ve been ghosted before for less,” you muttered in embarrassment, knowing that your love life was a disaster compared to your cousin, who had been with her soon-to-be-husband since high school.

Lex softened immediately, stepping beside you and wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders. “I know,” she murmured soothingly, rubbing your arm with a gentle hand. “But those guys were jerks who didn’t deserve you. From everything I know about this guy, he sounds so great. He seems like the kind of guy who would be happy that you remembered his birthday.”

Honestly, you couldn’t argue with her there.

Bob Floyd was unlike any man you’d ever met before. He was everything you’d ever hoped to find but had feared you never would, the kind of perfect that seemed too good to be true, the gentleman that you had thought existed only in fairytales.

It had been over a month now since he’d stepped off a storybook page and walked into your life.

You could still remember that afternoon so clearly. It was a Saturday, and the bakery had been surprisingly dead. Lexie had decided to run to the bank, leaving you in charge of things in her absence. You’d been rearranging some of the pastries in the display case when the bell over the front door chimed, signaling a customer.

Stepping up to the counter, the words of greeting died in your throat when one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen in your life approached, a shy smile stretching across his face.

“Hi,” he greeted you in a soft-spoken voice, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, and yet you’d never seen a guy look better.

“Hi,” you echoed, your eyes widening as you got lost in a gaze as blue as the cornflowers that grew in your grandparents’ backyard.

The two of you just stared at each other for a couple minutes, neither of you saying anything, even as the air between you seemed to spark and hum with electricity.

“Um, I was, uh, hoping that you still had some cupcakes left. I know it’s a little later in the day and my neighbor who recommended this place said that you should always get here early, but, um, I have a little barbeque that I’m going to and I wanted to bring some dessert. I’m hopeless at making anything myself,” he rambled, his eyes crinkling as he laughed somewhat nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

It was only when he cleared his throat awkwardly a moment later that you realized you hadn’t yet responded to him.

“Oh! Cupcakes!” you exclaimed, your voice coming out a little louder and squeakier than you had intended. “Of course!” Running your hands down the front of your apron, you shook your head slightly to try to knock some sense into it. You walked over to the display case, indicating that he should come take a look. “Normally we’d already be sold out of a lot of these, but it’s been quieter today than usual, so we still have plenty left. I guess it’s your lucky day.”

“Seems like it,” he smiled, his blue eyes latching onto your face.

Something about the way he said it made your insides feel as gooey as the batter Lexie used to make her double chocolate fudge cake.

“How many cupcakes do you need?” you asked, working overtime to keep from getting flustered.

“I think two dozen should be fine,” he replied, his eyes roaming over the display case shelves. “Hmm, they all look so good, I wouldn’t know where to start. Do you have any recommendations?”

“The lemon zest cupcakes are really popular. So are the red velvet and the coconut cloud. Oh, and the German chocolate.” You laughed sheepishly. “Honestly, they’re all really good.”

He laughed in response, a small dimple appearing in his cheek that only further endeared him to you. “Which one is your favorite?” he asked, his voice so earnest it made your chest ache.

You didn’t even have to think about it. “The funfetti,” you told him, indicating the vanilla cupcakes baked with rainbow chips and topped with swirls of vanilla frosting and an extra dash of sprinkles.

“I’ll take a dozen funfetti cupcakes then. And you can surprise me with the other dozen,” he grinned, making you smile.

“I hope you and everyone at the barbeque enjoys,” you said after you finished ringing him up, sliding the two boxes of cupcakes towards him.

“I’m sure we will. This place comes highly recommended,” he replied with a smile. “Are you Lexie, the owner?”

“No, no, I’m her cousin,” you explained, introducing yourself by name.

“I’m Robert Floyd,” he said, holding out his hand to you. “But everyone calls me Bob.”

“Very nice to meet you, Bob,” you beamed, sliding your hand into his and shaking firmly. His hand was large and warm and calloused and it felt like yours had been made to fit inside it.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he murmured softly, holding onto your hand for another second or two before slowly releasing it. He was quiet for a moment, then added, “I’m sure I’ll be back again soon.”

“We serve really good coffee,” you said suddenly, desperate to find a reason to get him to come back. “And we open really early. You know, if you want to get some on your way to work.”

Bob’s beautiful blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “I’ll be sure to do that. Thank you.” He picked up his boxes of cupcakes and turned towards the door. Before he left, he shot you one last smile that melted your insides. “See you around.”

After that, Bob Floyd had found plenty of reasons to stop by the bakery. The following Monday, he’d stopped by in the morning to grab coffee for him and his friends on his way to work. That was when you’d learned that he was a naval aviator stationed at North Island.

“You were right about those funfetti cupcakes,” he told you, patting his stomach with a grin. “I think I ate about half the box before I thought to share them with anyone else.”

Your eyes crinkled and you felt your skin grow warm as you smiled in response. “Good, I’m so glad.”

You made sure to slip a cupcake in with all his coffee orders, a gesture which he didn’t fail to notice, judging from the extra large tip he left in the jar.

“See you soon,” he smiled, balancing all that coffee in his large hands as he backed out of the bakery.

From then on, he was there practically every day, stopping in for coffee or for some cupcakes after work. He often picked up things for other people—his friends or his neighbor who had recommended the bakery to him. But for himself, he always stuck with the funfetti cupcakes.

“I know I should branch out and try something new,” he told you one day through a mouthful of sprinkles. “But I can’t help it—these are just so good.”

It had taken nearly two weeks for Bob to work up the nerve to finally ask you if you might be interested in getting dinner with him sometime. You’d had to bite your tongue to keep from immediately screaming, “YES!” in his face,

The two of you spent your first date at a gorgeous little seafood restaurant right on the water, and then went for a long walk on the beach afterwards. It was truly the best date you’d ever been on. Bob was a perfect gentleman, attentively listening to everything you had to say and making you feel as though he actually cared about what was important to you. He’d even draped his jacket over your shoulders as you walked by the water, noticing the way you were shivering slightly in the dress you’d worn. You had been hoping he would kiss you at the end of the night, but like the gentleman that he was, he’d simply brushed your cheek with his lips, asking in a hushed voice if you’d like to see him again.

You wanted that very much.

On your second date, Bob took you mini golfing, something you’d told him that you hadn’t done since you were a little girl. You didn’t think you’d ever laughed so much as you did that night, no matter how terrible you turned out to be at miniature golf. Just like on your first date, Bob walked you to your door at the end of the night, his hand resting on the small of your back as you turned to look up at him, your eyes begging him to give you a proper kiss goodnight.

He had to duck his head slightly as he leaned in closer, a lock of his honey-colored hair draping across his forehead as his gaze latched onto yours, your breath mingling as the two of you inched closer and closer.

It was a soft kiss, sweet and chaste. His lips just barely brushed against yours, sending a shock of electric currents up and down your spine. When he pulled back, the both of you were flushed and stammering.

“C-can I call you tomorrow?” he asked, still so shy even after two dates.

“I hope you do,” you whispered with a smile, squeezing his hand before slipping through your front door.

Faithful to his word, Bob had called you the next day. The two of you were supposed to be going out again this weekend.

But that brought you back to your current dilemma—his birthday. You knew you were being stupid about this. Texting him for his birthday wasn’t tantamount to a marriage proposal. It wasn’t like you were trying to throw him a surprise party or invite yourself over for cake. It was a text message for crying out loud. And even though it had only come up once, he had told you when his birthday was. It wasn’t like you had gone to North Island and asked to see his personnel file.

The truth was, you were just terrified of screwing things up. You’d gone on plenty of dates with guys who had seemed really nice, who you had really thought were into you, only to be ghosted or flat-out rejected. Deep down inside, you knew that Bob was different from all those other guys, but still—the thought of sending him running made your stomach twist into knots.

“Babe, you know what I’m going to say,” Lexie murmured, your cousin’s voice pulling you out of all your convoluted thoughts. “If you never take a risk, then nothing’s ever going to change. I know you’re nervous, but just go for it. The worst that happens—seriously, the worst case scenario—is that he ghosts you. But you know what? If he does that, then he wasn’t worth your time anyway. And if he doesn’t? Well, maybe he’ll start to fall even harder for the gorgeous girl who remembered his birthday.” She grinned, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Ugh, why do you always have to be right?” you grinned ruefully, pulling back from your cousin’s embrace and fiddling nervously with the scrunchie on your wrist.

“It’s a gift,” she replied with a wink, turning to look over her shoulder when the bell over the front door chimed. “I’ve got it,” she told you, squeezing your arm before heading back out to the front.

That left you alone in the back kitchen, your phone burning a hole in your apron pocket and your heart hammering inside your chest.

“Okay, don’t be an idiot,” you murmured to yourself. As far as pep talks went, it was far from the most inspirational, but it did the job as you pulled your phone out. “It’s not too much too soon. It’s just a text,” you breathed out. “It’s just a text.”

Opening your messages, you found Bob’s name—he was right near the top after texting you just yesterday—and opened up your conversation thread, chewing on your bottom lip.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you tapped out a quick message that you hoped was short, sweet, and to the point and hit send.

Happy Birthday, Bob! I hope you have a wonderful day! 🥳🎉

You felt hot all over as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, your pulse stuttering in your veins as you wondered how long it would take him to see it. From what he had told you about his job, he often spent hours in the air each day, so chances were good he didn’t even have his phone on him right now.

You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and determined not to think about it. A task that was much easier said than done. But as you walked back out into the main part of the bakery, you found that a small crowd had formed, so you jumped into assisting your cousin behind the counter.

“Well?” Lexie asked under her breath as you helped her fill a couple boxes with a dozen cinnamon chip muffins.

“I sent it,” you murmured in reply, purposely avoiding her direct gaze. “But I haven’t heard anything back yet.”

As much as you had tried not to, you’d been compulsively checking your phone every five minutes.

Lex shrugged and waved it off. “It’s still early yet,” she said confidently, carrying the boxes over to the patiently waiting customer.

You threw yourself into various tasks around the bakery, anything that would keep your mind off your phone. You restocked the shelves in the display cases, organized the money in the cash register, wiped down the counters in the kitchen, scrubbed the baking pans, frosted cupcakes, replaced the coffee beans, and waited on any customers who walked in.

A couple of times, your phone buzzed in your pocket and your heart jumped into your throat, only to sink down to your stomach when you pulled it out and found that it was just an email notification or a text from your mom.

The longer you went without hearing from Bob, the harder you had to work to convince yourself that he wasn’t ignoring you.

No. He wasn’t ignoring you. Bob wasn’t like that. You were sure of it.

It was a little after noon, just when you’d taken a cup of coffee into the back for a short break, when you felt your phone buzz again, vibrating against your thigh through your apron. Swallowing nervously, you put your coffee down and reached into your pocket, a small gasp escaping you when you saw Bob’s name on the screen.

You could scarcely unlock your phone fast enough, opening up the text thread to read his reply.

Wow, you remembered! That means so much to me. Thank you! ☺️ Sorry it took me a little while to respond—we were doing some test flights, but I’m on my lunch break now and I’ll be on the ground for the rest of the day. How are you?

It took every ounce of self-restraint you had not to scream and jump up and down like a little girl. It felt like a boulder had been lifted off your shoulders. You hadn’t freaked him out! He hadn’t ghosted you! It was just like Lexie said—he was happy that you remembered.

Grinning like a fool, you leaned against the counter and typed out a response, not caring that your coffee was getting cold.

I’m doing great! Glad to hear you got some flying in on your special day ✈️ Doing anything to celebrate?

It was only after you had sent the message that you began to fret that it sounded like you were being nosy about his plans, or worse, trying to insert yourself into them.

But then Bob responded a minute later and put your worries to rest.

Nothing too fancy. My friends ordered lunch and got me a cake. They sang “Happy Birthday,” too, even though I begged them not to lol. I usually keep it pretty lowkey on my birthday.

You smiled as you wrote back, Was it a funfetti cake?

His next response came in no time at all, and it made your stomach flutter to imagine that he was focusing entirely on you and your conversation during his lunch break.

If only! It was really good, but I don’t think anything compares to those funfetti cupcakes 😋

At that moment, Lex walked into the back, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the huge smile plastered on your face. It felt like it was going to get permanently stuck there.

“Well, well, well,” she grinned, sidling up next to you. “Should I take that glowing smile to mean you finally heard back from your lieutenant?”

You ducked your head shyly, your cheeks growing warm. “He isn’t my lieutenant,” you insisted.

“Mhm, sure,” your cousin grinned, laughing loudly when you nudged her in the side. “So it worked out after all? He didn’t say you were a freaky stalker? I shouldn’t be expecting the police to burst down the door any minute?”

“Okay, okay,” you groaned, realizing how ridiculous you’d been behaving that morning. “You were right. It all worked out. He was very touched that I remembered his birthday,” you murmured, sheepishly scuffing your sneaker against the floor.

“I’ve gotta say it—told you so,” Lex smirked victoriously, wrapping her arms around you and planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, feigning annoyance even as you grinned and returned your cousin’s hug. “You know, Bob was actually just texting me that his friends at work got him a cake, but that it just doesn’t compare to your funfetti cupcakes,” you told her with a proud smile.

“What can I say? They are pretty damn delicious,” she winked, her chest puffing up with pride. A sudden thought struck her as she looked at you. “Hey, what time does Bob get off from work?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Usually around six or seven, I think,” you told her, your brow wrinkling in confusion. “Why?”

“Hmm, perfect,” Lexie mused, tapping her chin as she glanced over her shoulder.

“What do you mean?” you asked, arching an eyebrow. Your older cousin was always plotting something.

“I mean that the bakery closes at five-thirty,” she said, as if you weren’t already well aware of that fact. When she realized that you weren’t exactly catching her drift, she went on, “Which means you could invite Bob over for a little after hours birthday treat if you’d like,” she grinned.

“Lex!” you gasped, scandalized.

Your cousin threw her head back laughing. “I didn’t mean that you should jump his bones in the middle of the bakery! I’d actually prefer it if you didn’t do that,” she chuckled teasingly. “I just meant you could surprise him with something sweet, on the house. Something we make here,” she added with a pointed look that made your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment.

“Oh,” you mumbled, nodding your head slowly. “Right. Of course.” You cleared your throat slightly. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not! Anyone who makes my cousin this happy is welcome to free cupcakes anytime,” Lex said firmly, cupping your face in her hands and beaming at you.

“You’re the best,” you told her, throwing your arms around her and squeezing her in a tight hug. “I’ll text Bob now and see if he thinks he’ll be up for it.”

“If you’re the one asking, I’m sure he will be,” she winked, nudging you playfully before turning to go back to the front counter.

Once she was out of sight, you turned your attention back to your phone and bit your lip, trying to think of the best way to phrase what you wanted to ask him.

Speaking of funfetti cupcakes, any chance you’d want to swing by the bakery on your way home from work? We close at 5:30 today, but we make special after hours exceptions for our best customers 😉🧁

Was that stupid? That probably sounded stupid. Would he think that you were suggesting a quickie on the bakery floor the way you thought your cousin had been suggesting? Oh God, could you unsend that message before he got it?

I would love to! Is 6:45 too late?

This man didn’t cease to amaze you.

No, that’s perfect!

See you then ☺️

You tried your hardest to smother the smile that was threatening to completely overtake your face, but you couldn’t do it. This man gave you butterflies like you’d never experienced before in all your life, and the thought of getting to see him in just a few hours made you feel like you were going to burst from excitement and anticipation.

You didn’t even have to tell Lexie what Bob had said. The second she saw your face, she just smiled knowingly and told you, “I’ll be out of here by six.”

Time had never seemed to move so slowly as it did that day while you waited for closing time to finally come around. Lex observed your growing impatience with amusement, giving you as many odd jobs as she could to hopefully make the minutes go faster.

When the clock finally chimed five-thirty, you practically sprinted towards the door, locking it and flipping the closed sign around to ward off anyone who might have tried to stop by for a last minute treat.

“Good thing business is so good or I might get mad at you for scaring off customers,” Lexie teased.

True to her word, your cousin helped you clean up and then was heading out the door by six o’clock.

“Have so much fun,” she told you, blowing you a quick succession of air kisses. “And tell Bob happy birthday from me,” she added with a wink before slipping out the door.

With your cousin gone, that left you about forty-five minutes to finish getting ready before Bob arrived. You quickly set a playlist of classic 60s tunes to play softly through the speakers—you and Bob had discovered you had a similar taste in music about halfway through your first date—and then hurried into the bathroom to fix up your hair and apply a little bit of make-up. You usually didn’t bother with much when you were working, but you wanted to look nice for Bob.

Once you were done getting ready, you went into the back to get his little birthday treat set up—Lexie had made a fresh batch of funfetti cupcakes towards the end of the day just for the occasion. You had just finished placing one of the cupcakes on a small plate with a lace doily and inserting a candle into it when you heard a faint knock on the front door.

Your heart rate immediately began climbing as you ran your hands over the T-shirt and jeans you’d worn today, hoping you looked halfway presentable. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, you stepped out into the main part of the bakery and felt your legs instantly turn to Jell-O at the sight of Bob standing at the door, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. You’d only told him once in passing how much you loved them, and he had remembered.

Wow, that really did mean a lot.

“Hi,” you greeted him, standing in the open doorway and beaming up at him.

“Hi,” he echoed, that little dimple making an appearance as he smiled down at you. After a beat, he seemed to suddenly remember that he was holding the flowers in his hand. “Oh, these are for you,” he said, holding them out shyly.

“They’re beautiful, Bob,” you breathed out softly, accepting them with a smile and pressing them to your nose. “My favorite. You remembered.”

“Just like you remembered my birthday,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, but which you knew you felt just as much as he did.

The two of you stood there like that for a few moments, just gazing into each other’s eyes and smiling dreamily. Then you came to your senses.

“Come in, come in,” you told him, stepping out of the doorway so that he could enter and then closing the door behind him. “Gosh, these really are such beautiful flowers. That was so sweet of you. You didn’t have to get me anything. It is your birthday, after all,” you said, guiding him to a table in the center of the room.

“I wanted to,” Bob replied, taking a seat. He was still in his flight suit and he looked so handsome. “I’m happy that they made you smile.”

“It’s hard not to smile when I’m around you,” you told him, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could think twice about them. Your cheeks grew warm when you realized how vulnerable they were, and you buried your face in the bouquet once more.

Bob’s cheeks had grown rosy as well, and you noticed that his leg was bouncing nervously underneath the table. “I feel the same way,” he murmured softly.

You could have thrown your arms around him and kissed him right then and there, but then you recalled the actual reason why you had invited him over.

“I have a surprise for you,” you said suddenly, smiling brightly as you laid the bouquet of flowers down on the counter. “Wait right here and close your eyes,” you told him, waiting until he had done so before hurrying into the back and lighting the candle you’d tucked into his cupcake.

When you stepped back into the main room on quiet feet, you found that Bob was still patiently sitting with his eyes closed. Your heart swelled with deep affection—and was it possible something even deeper? You had never met anyone like him and you were certain you never would again.

It was at that moment that you realized “Be My Baby” by The Ronettes was currently playing through the speakers, as apropos a sign as you could imagine.

You cleared your throat slightly as you approached the table, the candle sparkling in front of your face as you brought it closer to the birthday boy.

“I know you said you weren’t a big fan of being serenaded with ‘Happy Birthday,’ so I’ll spare you my vocals,” you teased, setting the plate down in front of him. “But Happy Birthday, Bob.”

Opening his eyes, Bob glanced from your face down to the cupcake and then back up to you again. He seemed at a loss for words, his eyes growing wide behind his glasses.

“This is—this—thank you,” Bob finally said, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

You smiled, sitting down beside him and gently resting your hand over his. “Blow out your candle before it melts into your cupcake,” you giggled.

He grinned at the sound of your laughter, leaning in closer to blow out the single candle, though he kept his eyes fixed on you the whole time.

“Lexie baked them fresh this afternoon. There’s a whole bunch more in the back that I’m going to be sending you home with,” you told him, your heart skipping a beat at the way his face lit up.

“What did I do to deserve all this? This is the best birthday present ever,” Bob chuckled, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing lightly.

“I’m glad you think so,” you murmured, glancing down at the table shyly. “The truth is, I was a little nervous to text you earlier.”

Bob looked surprised at your admission. “Why?” he asked, astonished.

You bit your lip and hesitated, but then decided to be honest. Like Lexie said, if you never took a risk, then you never got to see anything change. “I know this is going to sound so stupid, but I was worried you would think it was too much if I texted you for your birthday.”

“Too much?” he repeated, his brow crinkling in obvious confusion.

“You know, just because you had only mentioned your birthday once. I thought maybe I would seem too desperate or clingy or something if I reached out. I thought it would freak you out,” you confessed. “I know that sounds pretty dumb when I say it out loud.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Bob assured you, shaking his head slowly. “I know what you mean. To be honest, I think I’ve had that problem myself. Y’know, coming off too eager and scaring girls away,” he admitted, blushing as he ducked his head.

“Oh, Bob,” you murmured in understanding, lacing your fingers through his. With all the other things you two had in common, it shouldn’t have surprised you that a crappy dating history was something else you shared. “You could never scare me off,” you promised him.

Lifting his head, he smiled at you and reached out slowly, his fingertips stirring a few wisps of your hair as he brushed your cheek lightly. “And you could never freak me out. It meant so much to me that you remembered my birthday. It made my whole day, in fact. Even more than the funfetti cupcakes,” he said, his eyes crinkling. He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, then added softly, “I remember everything about you.”

“You do?” you whispered, feeling a sudden surge of emotion well up in your throat.

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Your favorite movies, the fact that you like tomatoes but hate ketchup, the way you throw your head back when you laugh really loudly. Your favorite flowers. I remember it all.”

“Bob,” you breathed out, the tears brimming in your eyes as your gaze dropped from his eyes down to his mouth.

You weren’t really sure who moved first, but soon enough, Bob was holding you in his arms, your lips pressed together in a kiss that was much less chaste than your first one, but just as sweet. Your arms snaked around his neck, one hand burying itself in his soft hair, the other resting on the nape of his neck. He let out a soft groan in response, one of his large hands resting on your hip and the other splaying across your back, holding you close.

It was a kiss that was so much like Bob himself—gentle, kind, tender, sweet, affectionate, attentive. He didn’t demand more than you were willing to give, he didn’t try to take anything from you. He just wanted to make you feel how much he cared about you, wanted to make you feel special and cherished. And he did. You hoped more than anything that you were doing the same for him.

Because the truth was that you were already falling for Bob Floyd, and falling hard.

When the two of you finally pulled back—a mutually hesitant parting borne solely of the need for oxygen—you smiled breathlessly, closing your eyes as Bob rested his forehead against yours.

“Okay, maybe that was the best birthday present ever,” he chuckled quietly, his lips brushing against your temple.

“I think so, too, and it’s not even my birthday,” you grinned, resting your head against his shoulder. “Are you going to have your cupcake?” you asked, glancing down at where it sat on the plate, still untouched.

“Mhm,” Bob nodded, wrapping an arm around you and brushing his fingers up and down your arm. “But there actually is something I’d like to ask you first,” he said, suddenly sounding nervous.

Lifting your head, you looked up at him, trying to figure out why he suddenly looked so flustered.

“Of course. What is it?” you questioned, resting a hand on his arm.

“Well, all of this has been amazing,” he began, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. You had noticed they had a tendency to slide down when he was particularly nervous. “But there actually is one more thing that I’d really like for my birthday this year.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously. “What is it?”

Bob swallowed deeply and then looked directly into your eyes. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your lips parted as a little gasp of delighted surprise escaped you. It may have been Bob’s birthday, but it felt like you were the one being showered with gifts today.

“Oh, Bob, yes! Yes!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him and pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Yes?” Bob repeated between kisses, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes,” you told him seriously, cupping his cheek in your hand. “Nothing would make me happier.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed out, the term of endearment falling easily off his tongue in that adorable midwestern accent of his. He pulled you into his arms once more and kissed you soundly.

You giggled softly as you reached for the funfetti cupcake and removed the candle, holding it up for him to take a bite. “Happy Birthday, Bob.”

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

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daisies-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Here and Now (Husband!Ghost x Wife!Reader)

Pairing: Husband!Ghost x Wife!Reader (Papa!Ghost AU) Category: Fluff and Smut (18+) Warnings: Tooth Rotting Fluff, Swearing, Slight Roleplay, Implications/Mentions of BDSM, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), P in V Sex, Unprotected Sex (You Know the Drill), Creampie Word Count: 5k+

Summary: Simon surprises you on Mother’s Day. 😊

Author’s Note: Happy Mother's Day! 🌸 Lily is almost three in this fic while Tommy is ten months old. (BF/N) = “Best Friend’s Name”. I hope you all enjoy!

“HAPPY MAMA’S DAY!”

Lily’s small, sweet voice drew you out of your sleep. You fluttered your eyes open, smiling at the sight before you. Lily was carrying a plate of scones to your bedside, Simon trailing behind her with Tommy in his arms. You yawned and stretched, your legs shifting beneath the covers. You beamed as Lily tried to balance the plate in her small hands.

“Is this for me?” you smiled. She nodded and raised the plate above her head, the scones nearly sliding off. You placed a hand over your heart before you took the plate from her.

“I helped Dada make them!” she chirped. You set the plate on your lap before taking a bite. The dough was still warm and fluffy, the buttery goodness melting over your tongue. You hummed as you chewed it. Tommy gurgled in Simon’s arm as he reached his chubby hands for you.

“That was so good!” you sang. Lily squealed and clapped her hands. Simon stepped forward and laid a kiss on your lips. Tommy softly cried out for you, his hands still reaching out.

“Aw, Tommy,” you cooed. Simon bounced your son in his arms before resting him next to you. His rosy cheek squished against your arm as he tried to balance himself. You smiled and brushed the tuft of brown hair on his head. He gurgled as you helped him sit up, staring at you with his papa’s dark eyes.

“Happy Mother’s Day, sweetheart,” Simon beamed. You grinned and pecked his lips again. Lily began to reach for your scones. Simon chuckled, giving her a raised brow.

“You hungry too, Lil?” he asked. She flicked her hand away, hiding it behind her back while her eyes grew wide.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded. Your husband grinned before scooping her up into his arms.

“Let’s go downstairs and get some breakfast, yeah?” he hummed. She raised her hands.

“Yay!” she cheered. You giggled. Tommy latched his mouth onto your arm, slobbering over your skin. Simon looked over to you.

“Want me to take him, too?” he asked. You looked down at the babe, his eyes sparkling as he gazed up at you in wonder. You shook your head, keeping your hand on Tommy’s back.

“Actually, I was thinking all of us could have breakfast in bed?” you suggested. Lily gasped.

“Bed! Bed!” she squealed loudly. Simon laughed.

“Well, you heard her. Let’s get our grub, Lil,” he chuckled as he rubbed noses with your daughter’s. She giggled as he carried her out.

“Bye, Mama! Be back soon!” she called, waving her hand as Simon went down the hall. You waved back before turning to your breakfast. You let your back rest against the headboard as you slowly chewed on your sweet-savory food. Your eyes flicked over to a card resting on your nightstand. Curious, you slid the card between your hands.

(Y/N)

You heard your husband’s lumbering footsteps grow louder as he walked in through the door. Lily jumped up into your bed, picking up Tommy and setting him in her lap.

“Do you want me to open this now?” you asked Simon. He shrugged before giving Lily her plate. She happily began to eat her scones, doing a little dance as she chewed.

“It’s up to you,” he said, taking his seat on the other side of the bed. You looked back down and tore open the envelope. Lily watched you curiously, Tommy drooled over his chin as he played with your blanket. You smiled at the dandelions that were pressed inside of the card. Lily’s eyes lit up as you took them out.

“I picked them, Mama!” she exclaimed. You smiled and brought them up to your nose, smelling the squished golden flowers.

“They’re very pretty! Thank you Lily,” you beamed. Your daughter smiled before squeezing you with her small arms. You kissed the top of her head, squeezing her back. Tommy huffed, annoyed with being squished by his big sister.

“Sorry, bubba,” Lily said before kissing Tommy’s cheek. He cooed softly, as Lily pulled him into her arms. You grinned and went back to the card, reading the message:

Dear (Y/N),

Happy Mother’s Day! You are such a brave, kind, and incredible woman. I’m so thankful to have you as my beautiful wife and the amazing mother of our children (who get their good looks from you, by the way).

You rolled your eyes at Simon. He chuckled, knowing exactly which sentence you just read.

I love you so much. I can’t wait to see the new memories we’ll make in the years to come.

Love,

Simon

P.S. Make sure you dress up for tonight. I have a surprise for you.

You raised your brows.

“A surprise?” you asked, tilting your head. Simon nodded, taking a bite of his scone. “Do I at least get a hint?” you giggled. He shook his head and swallowed.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he drawled.

***

“Thanks again for watching the kids, (BF/N)!” you called from the front door. Your best friend smiled as they sat at the table painting pictures with Lily. Tommy gurgled in his high chair, banging on it with his tiny fist.

“No problem. Have a good time you two!” they replied. You grinned before a sudden thud drew your attention down the hall. Simon was wearing his skull balaclava, the tattered, grim mask a sharp contrast to the crisp suit he wore. His phone suddenly fell on the floor as his eyes raked over you.

“Like what you see?” you purred, striking a pose. He dipped down and grabbed his phone, his eyes still on you all the while. His pupils were blown as he quickly came closer, his shadow overcasting you.

“You look gorgeous, darling,” he breathed, taking your hand and pressing it to where his lips would be. You chuckled and caressed his cheek.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Casanova,” you winked.

“Love you, Mama! Love you, Dada!” Lily yelled from the kitchen, waving her paintbrush in the air. You smiled and waved back.

“I love you too, baby!” you grinned.

“Love you, sweetpea. Be good for (BF/N), okay?” he asked. She nodded.

“Okay, Dada!” she chirped. Lily danced in her chair as she went back to her painting. Your husband turned back to you.

“Ready to go, Mrs. Riley?” Simon hummed while hooking his arm around your own. You smiled and pecked his cheek.

“Whenever you are, Mr. Riley,” you smiled. He waved to your friend before stepping through the door, walking you to the car. You smiled as he opened your door for you.

“Why thank you kind sir,” you replied with an exaggerated tone. You gasped as his hand slipped to your backside as you slid inside. “A little handsy, are we?” you mused. Simon simply shrugged.

“Not my fault you have such a cute arse,” he stated. You rolled your eyes as he closed the door.

Your heart fluttered with excitement on the drive over. It’s felt like forever since you’ve had a date that wasn’t just dinner at your table or a movie night in the living room. Your eyes trailed down to Simon’s free hand resting in his lap. You smiled as you slid your hand into his, your wedding ring reflecting off of the lights as he turned onto the motorway.

“Seriously, where are you taking me?” you asked. His eyes remained trained on the road as he squeezed your hand.

“Afraid that’s classified,” he droned. You sighed. Your shoulders raised as an idea popped into your head.

“What would happen if the information got leaked, hm?” you inquired, your index finger poking out to trace circles on his thigh. Simon’s fingers clenched on the steering wheel as his foot pressed slightly harder on the gas pedal.

“You’d be charged with insubordination,” he replied with a crack in his composure. His Adam's Apple bobbed in his throat as you continued to motion your digit across his dark slacks. You leaned over, your seatbelt tugging on you as you pressed your lips close to his ear.

“And what would be the necessary disciplinary actions, Lieutenant?” you whispered. You could see his resolve begin to crumble as you unlatched your hand from his grip, tracing your fingers over the top of his belt. You knew calling him by his rank or call sign was a quick way to get him riled up. Your husband cleared his throat.

“I can think of a few ways to deal with a disobedient soldier like yourself,” Simon responded, a dark shadow reflecting in his eyes. Your throat hitched as he trailed his fingers up your arm, goosebumps erupting in their wake. “One, I could have you bound and gagged,” he rumbled, his hand sliding down to your hand, tracing over your wrist. You bit your lip, your legs squeezing tightly together. His hand came and rested on top of your thigh, his fingers splayed across the bottom hem of your dress. “Two, I could search you…if there’s probable cause,” Simon murmured. His gravelly voice sent shivers down your spine as his fingers bunched up your dress. You shifted in your seat, face flush with a dark merlot as he exposed your upper thigh.

“A-And three?” you swallowed, eyes blown with lust. Your mouth went agape as the pads of his fingers brushed the inside of your plush thigh. His dark eyes glanced over at your desperate expression before flicking back to the road.

“Corporal punishment,” Simon grunted as he roughly squeezed your thigh. Your teeth captured your bottom lip, tightly encasing it at the pressure that grew between your legs. The pads of his fingers dug in deeply as he emitted a smooth groan. You moaned quietly, your core beginning to feel wetter the longer he touched you. Your eyes were lidded and mouth watering as he released his grip. You sighed as he rubbed the red marks before slipping his hand back to the wheel. His expression remained a mystery behind his menacing mask as he continued driving. Your chest heaved, his marks still sending a dull pain that melted into a pleasure that leaked into your heat. You wiggled your hips, leaving your dress still hiked up as you eyed him.

“Almost there,” Simon stated as he made a right turn. He peered over at you again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. You bit your lip, your eyes flicking down to the beginning of a tent in his slacks.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me...Ghost?” you drawled, your hand cupping the inside of his thigh. You heard his jaw click, his fingers drumming across the steering wheel as he made another turn.

"(Y/N)..." Simon warned, his eyes locked onto you briefly. You gave his a coquettish smirk, hand hovering above his clothed cock. You yelped as he came to a sudden stop. Your brows furrowed as he chuckled, proceeding forward on the road.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Can't just blow through a stop sign," he shrugged. You pouted, then wiggled your hips ever so slightly.

"I'll show you what I can blow through," you muttered.

"What was that?" he mused, You opened your mouth, only to gasp when something caught your attention. Twinkling lights brightened your vision as you drove closer to a rather elegant looking hotel. A valet waved and came around while Simon put the car into park. You hid a laugh when the man’s friendly expression quickly became hesitant when your husband stepped out of the car.

“G-Good evening, sir,” the valet squeaked. Simon nodded with a grunt. He slid the keys into the valet’s hand before he grabbed a bag from the backseat. He walked around and opened the door for you. His eyes were dark yet warm as he watched you slip out of the car. Your heels clicked on the pavement as Simon helped you up. You looked up in disbelief at the intricate detail of the building. A large, crystal chandelier hung in the foyer as you two made your way inside, your arm wrapped around Simon’s. He chuckled at your bewildered expression.

“Happy Mother’s Day, love,” he said before pressing his masked lips to your temple. The receptionist, a brunette woman, smiled widely as the both of you approached.

“Good evening! Welcome to the Tour de Marbre!” she chirped, unphased by Simon’s appearance. You were still gaping at the decorations, watching as lobby boys and guests passed by.

“Evening. Reservation for Riley,” your husband stated matter-of-factly. She nodded before turning to her computer. She looked back up, her bright, blue eyes lit up when she saw you.

“That dress is absolutely lovely,” she complimented as she typed away. You grinned bashfully, shifting where you stood.

“Thank you,” you replied, your heels echoing along the polished marble floors. You looked up at Simon, wishing you could rip off his mask and kissing him deeply right then and there. His brown eyes met with yours as he squeezed your arm.

“You didn’t have to do this…this place looks so expensive,” you whispered worriedly. Simon tilted his head before leaning down to your ear.

“For you, my dear, it’s worth it,” your husband murmured back. Your heart nearly burst, warmth flooding into every corner of your chest. Just as you opened your mouth, the receptionist made a triumphant sound.

“All set!” the receptionist beamed as she slid two room keys to him. “You’ll be staying in Suite 808,” she hummed.

“Thank you,” Simon said. She nodded.

“Enjoy your stay!” she sang. You smiled, almost telling her the same thing before quickly sealing your lips. Both of you were quiet as you made your way up the elevator. The small enclosure smelled crisp as the doors closed gently. You immediately jumped up, not caring about any passerby who could walk in as you tackled him. He puffed out a quiet laugh as you kissed the sides of his mask repeatedly. “I take it you like your surprise?” he asked. Your grin was so wide, you thought the corners of your lips would have reached your ears.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you breathed out. Simon smiled, holding you close as the elevator dinged.

“Of course, love. Anything for my lady,” he grinned. Your eyes scanned the hallway that was adorned with beautiful, dim lighting as you made your way to your room. Simon’s footsteps were nearly thunderous compared to yours as you moved through the labyrinth of rooms.

“Here we are,” he smiled. He tapped his card on the lock and the door clicked. You went to step inside, yet he kept a hand out. You knitted your brows.

“Hold on,” Simon said. You cocked your head as he slipped inside. He came back out, the bag removed from his shoulder. You released a small laugh when he showed you a silky cloth in his hand.

“Were you not kidding about the punishments you mentioned earlier?” you teased. Simon chuckled, though you didn’t miss the pink that filled his cheeks. He spun his finger in a circle. You sighed as you turned around, making sure to jut your hip out. You could practically feel him shake his head as he wrapped the fabric around you.

“You’re a little minx,” he muttered. You smirked, rubbing your ass against his crotch ever so slightly just to prove his point. Simon’s large hand gripped your waist. “Careful, love. Someone could see us,” he warned with a low growl. You tilted your head back, lips curled into a smirk. A low rumbling noise rose from his throat. “Such a naughty wife I’ve got on my hands. Maybe I should combine those punishments,” he rumbled while leading you inside, his hand sliding down to cup your ass.

Your heartbeat pounded percussively with each step you took. The scent of vanilla and rosewater immediately floods your senses, drawing you into a state of relaxation. Your body lurched forward slightly when Simon suddenly stops you.

"Let’s take our shoes off real quick,” he said. You nodded, hearing his dress shoes thud against the floor before he helped you out of your heels. You sighed when the cool air hit them, stretching your toes out.

“Alright. Keep your eyes closed, sweetheart,” he softly commanded. You nodded, biting your lip as he undid the knot. After the fabric fell, he stepped back. “Okay, you can open them now,” Simon said. You blinked a few times, your eyes adjusting to the shift of lighting. You nearly fell back into the wall. Before you was a plush bed sparingly covered in rose petals. Candles were lit on the nightstands, their soft glow the only light pouring across the merlot-colored room. You slowly turned to your husband, mouth agape. His mask was off now, resting on the dresser. He smiled with his hands tucked in his pockets.

“How…when?” was all you could mutter. He shrugged.

“I might’ve had a little help,” Simon said as he squished two of his fingers together. You crossed your arms.

“Johnny helped you, didn’t he?” you asked. His shoulders tensed.

“Maybe,” he replied curtly. You laughed before wrapping your arms around him.

“I love it. Thank you, babe,” you smiled. He grinned down at you, tilting his head so he could capture your lips in a deep kiss. You sighed and closed your eyes, soaking in his warm presence before his own arms circled around your form. Your heart raced as Simon pulled back, his eyes beaming as they raked up and down your body.

“What?” you giggled. His hands snaked down and grabbed at your ass. You squeaked as they moved beneath your thighs. Simon grunted as he carried you over to the bed, laying you down on the end. Your legs were draped over the rose-scented comforter as he hungrily kissed up the side of your face. You sighed blissfully when he took the shell of your ear in between his teeth.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” Simon breathed. You shivered, a wave of arousal shooting down your spine and straight into your empty cunt. You bit your lip as he hovered above you, his eyes staring deeply into yours.

“Si,” you cooed. He smiled before kissing down your jaw and suckling where it met with your neck. Your legs spread on their own as you arched your back.

“Such a sweet wife, you are,” he muttered, his hands wandering from your shoulders to gently rub over your breasts. You squirmed beneath him and yelped when he flipped you over, exposing your back to him. You felt Simon’s strong thighs cage around your waist as he sighed, his fingers gripping the zipper. You swallowed and turned your head to the side, watching him with enlarged pupils. Simon purred as he slowly undid your zipper. He leaned over, lips dancing over the shell of your ear.

“Let me take care of you tonight, love,” your husband hushed. You wiggled beneath him as he finished with your zipper.

“Please,” you begged softly, body burning like a raging fire. You heard him make a noise of approval as he spread your loose dress around your shoulders. Your mind was in a haze, thoughts scattered as he peeled your dress down. He shifted above you and tossed it aside. His chest rose and fell as he stared at your nearly naked form, how your bra and panties perfectly hugged all of your curves. Simon looked at you like you were the most delicious, succulent dessert: and all for him to indulge.

“Everything about you drives me wild,” Simon purred, his fingers undoing the clasp of your bra. You shifted your thighs together as heat rose to your cheeks. He groaned when he flung the bra elsewhere, his fingers dipping down and tracing over the curve of your spine. You shook, the feather-light touch making your pussy start to flood with arousal.

“Every curve,” his teeth nipped down your spine, making you shiver. “Every scar,” his hands splayed over your hips, rubbing the flesh in circles. You gasped as he pulled your panties down, a wet string of arousal clinging between your folds and the fabric. He groaned, his lips coming even further down, kissing over the globes of your ass before stopping just above your cunt. “Every stretch mark…everything makes me want to fuck you right into this mattress,” his hot breath fanned over your lower lips.

“Simon, please,” you gasped out. Your husband grunted before he grabbed your waist and slowly turned you back around. Your heart nearly ruptured in your chest when he eagerly spread your legs farther apart, mouth nipping at the stretch marks that adorned the inside of your thighs. He eyed you, silently asking for approval. You nodded, thrusting your hips towards his parted lips. "Please, baby-I want to feel you so badly," you whined. He growled before licking his lips, his hands splayed on the inside of your legs.

"Finally, been wanting to get a taste of your perfect pussy," he rumbled. You shuddered as he leaned down, pressing light kisses over your clit. You squealed as his lips puckered around your nub, applying just the right amount of pressure for your core to ignite.

"Oh God," you choked. A wave of bliss rolled over you just like how you rolled your hips on his broad chin. He smacked his lips before slipping his tongue out, gently sliding it across your puffy folds. You moaned when he licked a long, languid stripe up your gushing slit, tapping your clit once he reached the top. The tip of his wet muscle repeatedly flicked at your swollen nub, making your thighs clench.

“Simon, baby-feels so good,” you keened while arching your back. Simon groaned as your slick gushed into his mouth, his tongue swirling around your engorged nub. You moaned and rocked your hips at a faster pace, your wetness smearing across his chin. His eyes fluttered closed, his face mirroring that of a man devouring the most savory cuisine. You cried his name when he nibbled on your clit, capturing it between his teeth.

"You taste so sweet, doll,” Simon rumbled before diving back in. He pressed a full, open mouth kiss over your cunt, moaning as the full, heady taste of you spilled onto his tongue. You mewled, your breasts jiggling with each uneven breath you took. He shook his head side to side. You could feel heat begin to bubble up in your lower belly when his fingers came down and spread open your labia. His eyes glowed at the sight of your dripping, puckering hole. Your entire body shook as his tongue lashed at your aching pussy. Your hands came down and clung at his locks, bunching them in between your fingers.

He kept your lower lips spread open with his thick fingers as he painted an array of wet, sloppy ‘I-LOVE-YOU’S’ over your soaked cunt. You felt your eyes roll into the back of your head when he audibly slurped some of your arousal into his parched mouth.

“Si,” you cooed, your body shivering as you careened closer and closer to the precipice of your orgasm. He hummed into your pussy before spreading your entrance open with his wet muscle. You cried and shook around him as he thrusted his tongue in and out of your walls, hungrily lapping at your juices. “‘M gonna cum!” you slurred, arms now squeezing the sides of his head. Simon only sped up at your words, his tongue lashing into your shivering cunny. The whole room spun as you felt your walls constrict around his tongue before your hips snapped up.

“SIMON!” you wailed, legs shaking as you came into his mouth. He greedily ate your nectar, drawing out all you had to offer him while you rode out your high on his face. His nose bumped into your clit, sending waves of overstimulation crashing over you as you cooed and babbled, mind completely drunk with ecstasy. You whimpered when your love pulled his face back. Your eyes widened at the sight of his lower face completely drenched in your juices.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how messy I was-” you blushed. You moaned when he took the slick off with his fingers and dipped them into his mouth. He hummed as he slipped them out slowly.

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. What you call a mess, I call dessert,” he sighed before licking his lips. Lava coursed through your veins and spilled into your dripping cunt. You watched he slid off the bed, quickly stripping himself of his crisp outfit. You bit your lip as he unbuckled his belt, his pants and boxers falling to the floor not long after. Your eyes raked over his sculpted body, landing on his cock raised to the dimly lit ceiling. Simon gave you a wry grin as crawled over top of you. He leaned his face down.

“Gonna go slow this time. That alright?” Simon asked as he crawled back on top of you. You nodded your head. His hand came up to grip your chin, his fingers and thumb squeezing your cheeks. “Use your words, hun,” he said.

“Y-Yes,” you mewled, your hands coming up to grip his scarred upper back. Your husband groaned as he kissed you deeply, setting his length down over your folds. It was burning. Simon nodded, locking his lips with yours he grinded his hips into yours. You gasped, fingers clenching deeper into his shoulders with each delicate stroke of his dick. You whined when he slowed to a stop, only to feel your mouth swell with drool as he guided the tip of his throbbing cock to your weeping entrance.

"You ready, baby?" he asked. You shifted your hips upwards, his cock threatening to slip past your tight hole.

"Fuck me...please," you begged. His dark eyes lit up with a hungry gaze.

"Yes ma'am," he chuckled. He sucked in a sharp breath as he pushed himself inside of you. Your fingers curved into his back as his bulbous tip pressed into your walls, spreading your cunt wide open. “Fuck-you feel so good, baby,” Simon groaned as he reached farther into your heat. Both of you gasped as he bottomed out, his full balls lightly tapping against your ass.

“Simon,” you keened below him, gripping onto his back for dear life. His lips immediately found yours, his kiss only igniting the heat that spread across your body.

“What’s wrong, lovie?” he asked with furrowed brows. You shook your head, lips curved into a smile.

“Y-You just feel so good-filling me up,” you gasped as you felt his cock throb against your cervix. Simon groaned before stealing a heated kiss from you.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted when he parted from you. You playfully took his bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on it gently. A deep rumble erupted from his throat as he began to pull his cock out. You felt your skin tingle from head to toe as he rocked his hips into you at a slow, tender pace. The vanilla and rose-scented room began to mix with the smell of sex as Simon raised your legs slightly, spreading them further with his leviathan grip. “So perfect, so good to me,” he growled as he began to pump into your pussy more deeply.

His cock stroked your gummy walls so deliciously, hitting the right spots every time. You keened and threw your head back as he pounded up into your g-spot, euphoria bursting from your core. Your sex squelched lewdly with every single hearty thrust, your slick from earlier gushing from where his cock was pistoning into you.

“Love you, Si. Love you so much,” you keened. Simon’s eyes snapped open, his pace relentless as he dove down to hungrily kiss your lips. You felt him fall towards you, spreading your legs farther up, causing him to sink even further into your clenching walls.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Love you-” his words were cut off when your walls spasmed around him, hugging his cock in a vice. Simon continued to pump his cock into you, helping you ride out your second orgasm. “That’s it, that’s my girl,” he cooed as you writhed below him, jaw slack as your body trembled with a warm ecstasy. You felt so heavy and light at the same time as your high began to fizzle out. The sound of your wet sex being relentlessly fucked would’ve made you blush had you not been swimming in a pool of bliss.

“Gonna cum soon, sweetheart. Where do you want me?” your husband asked, his head kissing your cervix with every snap of his hips. You moaned, his words seeming distant in your euphoria-clouded mind.

“I-Inside,” you slurred, your face painted with a deep crimson. He nodded before going into overdrive, pistoning his hips into you with a feral hunger. Simon growled when his whole body tensed, cock twitching inside your plush walls as he released rope after rope of his thick cum. He thrusted into you a few more times before slowly pulling out, his cock softening. He dramatically collapsed next to you, his lips quickly finding your cheek as he enveloped you in a bear hug. Both of you remained quiet, the only sounds in the room being both of you gasping for air.

“That was, that was incredible,” you smiled. Simon mirrored your expression, his eyes twinkling as he rocked you in his arms.

“Maybe we should do this every once in a while,” Simon said. You turned to face him.

“Have sex?” you teased. He chuckled and shook his head.

“You know I can’t resist you for that long, love,” he mused before pinching your asscheek. You scoffed and slapped him playfully. “No, I mean getting a hotel room and having the night to ourselves,” he stated. You hummed.

“That sounds lovely,” you sighed. He smiled, pressing soft kisses to your temple. “But…” you began. You were pleased when you emitted a gasp from him, guiding him to rest on his back before you straddled his hips. His brows shot up when you rubbed your soaked folds over his flaccid cock, a concoction of your slick and his cum smearing across his length. “Why don’t we focus on the here and now?” you asked coquettishly with a slow roll of your hips. His hands wandered up to your hips, his cock throbbing beneath your lewd ministrations.

“I like the way you think, Mrs. Riley,” Simon murmured with a wry grin.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

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joelscurls · 4 months

Text

a heart for melting

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: post-outbreak, implied age gap, themes surrounding child loss and grief, some angst but mostly festive fluff, grumpy x sunshine dynamics (Joel is a grinch & reader loves the holidays), reader is described as having long-ish hair

summary: Jackson's first annual Holiday Market brings about more than just cheer.

a/n: Merry Christmas @thetriumphantpanda; I'm your pedrostories secret santa! I hope you enjoy this lil festive take on grumpy!joel x sunshine!reader — I had lots of fun writing it 🤍🎄 🥧 🪵 🦌

Joel doesn’t want to be here — surrounded by garland and ribbons and so much unadulterated joy, it’s nauseating. No, he was forced to be here.

Please, Ellie had begged, it’ll be good for you to do something other than patrol or drinking with Tommy. Plus, they’re too good to keep to yourself.

They, being wood carvings — the tiny sculptures of deer and bears and birds, tufts of hair and bunches of feathers drawn out of driftwood with the tip of his blade. It was only ever meant to be a hobby, a way to busy his hands after they’d been wrapped around the cold metal of his rifle all day. Something lighter, creative rather than destructive, an act of giving rather than taking.

But sharing them with other people? He hadn’t been interested. Maybe he’d make one for Ellie or Tommy. Wrap it up in a piece of cloth and offer it as a gift for their birthday.

Not that he thought they were any good, really.

With the announcement of Jackson’s first annual Holiday Market, though, came Ellie’s pleading. “I’ll help you,” she’d bargained. “You don’t even have to give me anything!”

“Who said I would anyway?” he’d grumbled, digging his spoon into the bottom of his bowl of stew and sifting out a chunk of meat.

Joel despises the Holiday Season. He’d welcomed its disappearance with the end of the world. Because he had no reason to celebrate, with Sarah gone. Her absence stung like salt in an open wound on any normal day. But on Christmas, memories of her hanging her favorite ornaments on the tree and sneaking one of the cookies baked for Santa burned behind his eyelids. Left him heaving through hot tears.

The holidays had no place in his world, but they certainly had a place in Jackson. The first time he and Ellie had strode through those gates, they’d been met with that damned Christmas Tree, towering over the settlement like a beacon. And he hated it, hated the way it brought about that pounding in his chest and that spinning in his head.

How could anyone find any good in such a poignant reminder of loss?

Tommy says it’s about new beginnings, finding ways to be happy again. And what’s happier ‘n Christmas? God damn Santa Clause, hot chocolate, children singin’ carols?

Still, Joel isn’t convinced — not yet.

Standing across the mess hall, at your table piled high with baked goods, you are far too cheerful. You’re humming some song with a jovial beat, absentmindedly swaying as you rearrange rows of gingerbread and muffins and scones — all of which are draped in white icing, like flocking on Christmas trees. You pause to wish a happy holiday to everyone who passes through.

Joel knows he’s seen you before, flitting in and out of the community’s kitchen, always with that signature smile scrawled across your face.

And god, you’re so bubbly, taking to everyone you meet like a bee to honey, letting them in without a care in the world. Popping from table to table, making sure they have enough to eat. That they’re doing well.

It shouldn’t surprise him that you’re so…spirited, too. You seem to find the good in everyone and everything, after all.

It infuriates him, nonetheless.

Joel groans to himself. Stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans as an elderly couple rounds on him.

He grumbles a hello to them when they approach. They offer him half-smiles in return, beginning to pick up some of the carvings laid out on the table — turning them, inspecting them.

“This one’s nice,” the man says to his wife. She hums in agreement.

“You got any tigers?” the man asks.

“Tigers?”

“Yeah — I used to love ‘em as a kid.”

“Got what’s on the table,” Joel grumbles.

“You make ‘em custom? I can offer some homemade jam in return — elderberry.”

Joel sighs in annoyance.

“Don’t make ‘em custom. Got what I got.”

The man seems defeated, nodding and walking off without another word. The woman follows closely behind.

Just as they leave, Ellie appears. She sidles up to Joel and shrugs her jacket off. Pulls a chair up next to him.

“There’s so much cool shit here!” she exclaims, too loud. A judgemental set of eyes flit her direction. She glares right back at them.

“Do you mind?” Joel huffs, jaw ticking.

“Jesus, who pissed in your Cheerios?”

“How do you even know what Cheerios are?”

“Don’t,” she admits. “I read it in a book.”

“Of course you did.”

Ellie leans back in her chair, pulling an apple out of her backpack and biting into it. She shuffles some of the carvings around on the table. “Gotta fill in these gaps, man,” she says, juice dribbling down her chin.

Joel ignores her. He sneaks a glance at you; finds that you’re already looking. Your expression is unreadable, gaze unmoving as he studies you.

Despite your upbeat disposition bothering him, he can’t deny that you’re gorgeous: bright, beckoning eyes, siren-like smile — it’s like you’re peering into his soul.

He didn’t think he still had one of those.

“Dude.” Ellie nudges him. He peels his eyes from you reluctantly. “I asked how many takers you’ve had.”

“Uh.” He pretends to think.

“You have no fucking idea, do you? Too busy staring at that girl.”

“Wasn’t starin’,” he clips defensively.

“No? Well she’s coming over here, man.”

Sure enough, you’re striding right toward him, abandoning your post. Joel barely has time to prepare for impact.

He unconsciously straightens up and pulls his hands out of his pockets. He brushes them on his jeans just as you stop in front of his table.

“Hi there,” you say.

“Hi!” Ellie chimes.

You pick up a carving of a two-headed deer. His favorite.

“This is beautiful,” you coo. “The craftsmanship is lovely.” You’re running a finger along the grooves in the wood, holding the piece delicately in the palm of your hand — as if it’s made of glass, not wood. “You have a real gift…”

“Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeat. He ignores how sweet his name sounds coming out of your mouth. You tell him your name, and it fits you, he thinks. It’s pretty.

“How long have you been making them?”

“Just since I got to Jackson. ‘ts somethin’ to pass the time.”

You nod. Continue scanning over the intricacies of the deer. “I was never much of a baker before I got here, either,” you joke, gesturing back toward your table.

“Good one,” Ellie laughs. “You’re funny — isn’t she funny, Joel?”

In his head, he’s glowering at her. Outwardly, he feigns amusement.

“Real funny.”

“I’d love to see how you make these sometime,” you say, then, placing the deer back on the table gingerly. “Do you have a workshop?”

“In our shed,” Ellie pipes in before he can say anything. “You should come by tomorrow! Joel’s off patrol.”

He shoots her daggers. She pretends not to notice.

“I’d love that! I have to work in the kitchen, though. I could come by after?”

Joel starts to shake his head no. Ellie’s hand wraps around his arm like a vice grip. He stills.

“Sure,” he grits.

“I can bring some pastries, if you’d like.”

“Don’t like sweets.”

“Oh,” you say, a little thwarted, but you’re undeterred. You shift on your feet. Chew your bottom lip. “Well, how about something not sweet, then?”

Your brows lift, narrowed eyes on him as you await a response. Joel still isn’t thrilled about the prospect of a visitor. Really, he doesn’t like anyone on his property that isn’t Ellie, or Tommy and Maria if he’s invited them. But you don’t seem so bad, offering to bring him food.

He can probably deal with your sunny disposition in exchange for a full belly. Lord knows he went too long without that luxury, and he’d be a fool to deny himself of it ever again.

So, he agrees, the garbled sure less than enthusiastic leaving his mouth. Still, you don’t seem too offended. In fact, you smirk at him, wordlessly sauntering back to your table, sneaking glances at him every so often for the remainder of the afternoon.

Sure enough, the next evening, while Joel is whittling in the shed, you show up.

You’re wielding a basket of savory hand pies, as promised, and Joel has to stop himself from drooling. They smell incredible. And they’re still warm, somehow, steam wafting off of them even after your walk here.

“Come in,” he gruffs, his nose following the scent like a dog’s as he trails behind you inside.

His set up is minimal: a rocking chair next to a bench, a couple stools he made for when Tommy comes by to play poker. But his works are scattered throughout, every surface in the small room cluttered with little carvings.

He settles atop one of the stools as you begin to wander around the room, plucking sculptures off shelves and awing at them with such genuine admiration, it causes something to pull in his chest.

Every so often, you make a remark about the details in a piece, how the fur on the deer looks real, how you can practically smell the replica evergreen in your grasp.

And something shifts — carried by your kind words through the stuffy shed.

Taken by the slight lilt in your voice when you speak to him, the almost-shy smile that pulls at the corners of your lips — Joel is attracted to you.

He’s following the line of your neck down to your collarbone, ogling at the exposed skin there when you pick another carving up off the shelf. And he feels guilty — he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. You’re just being nice, being neighborly, and he’s gawking at you like you’d have any interest in him.

No; you’re young, beautiful, could do a lot better than an old grump like him.

He averts his gaze quickly when you suddenly set down the tiny, carved bird that had been in your palm, round the workbench and perch yourself atop the stool next to his. You retrieve a handpie out of the basket and pass it over to him.

“It has braised rabbit and carmelized onions in it,” you explain, taking a bite and letting the steam roll out.

He follows suit and — it tastes just as good as it smells, if not better. He’s salivating again, letting the dough melt in his mouth before swallowing.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, getting through the entire basket in mere minutes.

When you’re finished, you ask him where he’s from.

The question shouldn’t feel like such a shock to the system. But after a year of being in Jackson, successfully avoiding conversation about his life before the outbreak, it sets off a panging between his eyes, a dull ache in his viscera.

“Texas,” he tells you plainly. “From Austin, originally.”

You nod. And you must be able to tell that he’s not used to talking about himself — by the tick of his jaw or the lack of eye contact — he’s not sure. Because you don’t pry. Instead, you say, “you can ask me something.”

He nods. Thinks on it for a moment.

“When did you arrive here? To Jackson?”

Unlike him, you do not grimace at the intrusion. Instead, you tell him: about your parents, their untimely deaths, the harrowing road that led you here. You do not cry, but Joel can see the pain in your shiny eyes.

It’s inevitable; there isn’t a single person here who hasn’t been dealt a bad hand. But you wear your past like a badge of honor, like you’re still grateful, after it all, to be alive.

Joel envies your tenacity.

So when you ask him about Ellie, if she is his daughter, he lets the walls around him down — just an inch. He doesn’t get upset when he stumbles over his words while telling you about Sarah. He finds comfort in confiding in you, in the way you so attentively listen, quietly nodding along as he recalls his version of the end of the world.

“Thank you,” you say when he’s done, burying his hands back in his pockets.

“For what?”

“For sharing that with me. I know it can be difficult to relive it.”

“I relive it everyday,” he admits. “Everything reminds me of her in one way or another.”

“I understand,” you nod. He believes you do.

So sweet, gaze like honey, you are an enigma to him. He hasn’t met many people who are kind just for the sake of it — not in a long while. Maybe that’s why he’d been so bothered by it at the market. It had felt almost unnatural to him, bound to be laced with an ulterior motive.

He’s still learning how to trust people again. It doesn’t come easily after twenty-odd years of rationing it like the pills he’d stowed. Still, there is something innate about baring his soul to you. Letting you in through the cracks in his battered being. You are safe, he’s sure of it; benevolence radiating from you like warmth.

It drips off your tongue when you ask him to show you how he does his craft — slips down your fluttering lashes. No longer can he deny you of anything — he’s accepted this swiftly — and so he obliges.

A half-whittled fox materializes from his coat pocket, along with his blade. He passes both to you and pulls his stool closer to yours.

He guides you, taking your hand in his, encouraging the press of the blade into the wood. Shows you how to round out a corner with a subtle twist of the knife. You’re a fast learner, Joel notes, attentive, taking every instruction like gospel.

The slow drag of steel, your fingers wrapped tightly around the handle; you’re so focused that you jump slightly when he places a reassuring hand on your knee.

“Doin’ great, darlin’,” he says, and your lips pull around pearlescent teeth. Joel feels as enraptured by you as you do the carving — the loose tendrils of hair that drape over your shoulder, the clinging of cotton to your soft curves. Though he hardened into stone a long time ago, he feels smelted in your presence. So he cannot help it when his fingers begin to drift up your leg, settling at your side as he turns his body toward yours.

The blade stalls, tip still stuck into the wood, puncturing the fox’s non-existent spine, and your face lifts.

“Is this okay?” he whispers. You nod, gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

You’re so close like this; Joel can smell the floral perfume dappled along your neck, can feel your warm breath fanning his face. He has half a mind to stop himself from sealing the sliver of distance left between you. But then you’re sighing, placing the blade and the wooden fox on the tabletop. And it’s your turn to guide him — winding your delicate fingers around his wrist and settling his hand at the small of your back.

The air in the tiny workshop grows heavy with unspoken desire, a longing to disrupt; to create. Your body forms to his languidly, arms interlocking behind his neck, fingers weaving in his hair to pull him closer to you. And then your lips press to his — hesitant at first, then not. You drink from each other until you are drunk, breathless and giddy when you separate.

“That was nice,” you whisper, and Joel chuckles.

“Just nice?”

“Great,” you amend. “It was great. Better than I imagined, even.”

“You imagined this?”

“Yes,” you smirk. “On a loop since I first saw you at the market.”

He pulls you back in. Gives you another chaste kiss. “For good measure.”

“Joel,” you say then, “will you and Ellie come by mine on Christmas? I could even cook — it’s just-”

“Yes,” he’s accepting before you can finish. “I’d love that. As long as you make more of those,” he gestures toward the empty basket on the workbench.

“That can be arranged,” you grin.

As soon as you leave that evening — sent off with a goodbye muttered between slotted mouths — Joel starts on your Christmas present.

end notes: thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you enjoyed <3

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller oneshot #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal as joel miller #pedro pascal #pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories

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chrisevansonly · 5 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: marriage and raising a family is never easy, there are bumps and waves along the way, but even the sun has to come out after a little rain…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: slight angst, mentions of anxiety and mental health, crying, fluff

𝐀/𝐍: alright everyone we are GETTING BACK TO THE FLUFFY GOODNESS AGAIN, and welcome to chapter six, i’ll be honest idk how many chapters this will have yet, so bear with me, this also seems very shitty writing to me so i apologize if it is💀

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Why did you feel so nervous, it wasn’t as if a stranger was coming to your home, no it was Charles, your Charles. The father of your beautiful little boy, and your husband, whom despite everything you loved with your entire being, of course your heart still hurt from the argument a few days ago but you had to recognize that you were in the wrong just as much as he had been

The kitchen smelt like notes of caramel and hazelnut as you brewed a fresh poot of coffee, Matteo’s favourite cinnamon scones on the island awaiting his father who was arriving any second now

“Maman, où est papa?” the toddler asked softly, not wanting to interrupt your meticulous place setting at the breakfast nook

“Il devrait être là dans la seconde, mon amour”

Matteo smiled, sticking to your side wanting to help you as much as he could, it had been a rough couple of days for the little boy, not understanding that his parents were fighting and it wasn’t his fault. Something that you and Charles needed to discuss because the older he got, the more anxious he became.

“Est-ce que papa est déjà là?”

You frowned, brushing some of the unruly hair out of the toddlers face

“Pas ce soir mon amour..”

“Why!”

It wasn’t a surprise to hear Matteo get so upset it had been about two days since he’d seen him, far too long in his mind

“Because Maman and Papa are just having some time apart..”

Matteo looked up at you, his eyes sad as the began to gloss over, sending your heart into a bit of a panic as you watched the gears turn in his brain trying to figure out what that meant

“Est-ce à cause de moi?”

He sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve as you quickly scooped up the young boy into your arms

“Petit amour, ce n’est pas ta faute et tu n’as rien fait de mal”

You paused for a moment

“I promise you Matteo it is not your fault, sometimes parents just need a cool off so we can have some space and then come back stronger than before, I promise you baby papa and maman love each other so so much, and we love you so much more.”

Matteo stayed quiet but snuggled further into your chest, and you knew in this moment you and Charles needed to figure things out and do it fast.

Charles arrived at the house rather quickly, eager to see his little boy and even more excited to see you, he missed being home with the two of you, and was hoping today he could finally come home and work to put this behind him, he would do everything in his power to do that.

“Papa!!”

You looked up in time to see Matteo run off to the front door, straight into Charles’s arms, happy giggles spilling from his lips

“Tu m’as tellement manqué petit prince, papa t’aime tellement.”

“Papa je t’aime tellement, tu m’as manqué encore plus!”

Charles smiled pressing kisses to the little boy’s face as they spent a few minutes reconnecting, it made you feel guilty, thinking back on it maybe you should have fixed this problem right when it happened. Not wanting to interrupt them you waited until Matteo took off with his father’s phone to play games, leaving the two of you in the kitchen together, a soft smile on Charles’s face, yet there was evident worry in his eyes.

“Mon amour…”

Deciding against the slight hurt that remained in your chest you walked over and wrapped your arms around him, closing your eyes as your head rested against his chest

“I’m sorry..”

“No please, don’t apologize, I shouldn’t have pushed you..”

Shaking your head you looked up at him

“I threw my anxiety in your face and-and I know how important racing is to you and you want to show Matteo everything but-”

“But nothing amour please, I understand why you are scared, Matteo is your baby as is he mine and it was wrong of me to push and push when you weren’t ready and I saw that from the very first time I brought it up…”

He paused just enough to catch a tear that slipped down your cheek before he continued, his thumb remaining on your cheekbone gently

“I should have never raised my voice at you like I did, I made a promise to you and I broke it, something I swear to you I will never do to you again, all I can say now is I am so sorry amour…tu es mon soleil, mes étoiles, ma lune et le plus beau cadeau que j'ai jamais reçu. Je ne veux jamais te perdre.”

Charles didn’t have to say anything else in the moment, because you were quick to press your lips to his, his hands holding onto your face gently, cradling it as if you were made of porcelain. A kiss that brought you back to your wedding night, one that was filled with so much love you thought you might pass out, but god would it have been worth it.

“I love you, so much Char…come home please and-and we’ll figure out the rest another day.. I should have never made you stay away from us like that, I’ll kick myself for it…”

“No enough, I’m not mad at all baby I don’t blame you..come lets go have a movie day with Teo”

Nodding your head you let him lead you to the living room where Charles was quick to order your favourite lunch, while recruiting Matteo to make the couch into the comfiest movie watching space you’d ever had. A smile coming to your face at the excitement in his eyes, and excitement you’d missed seeing from him the past few days.

There really was nothing better in the world than having your little family back together, even if there was still much to be discussed and talked about but for right now, this was just perfect. Matteo settled in between the two of you, a happy smile on his face.

“I love you Maman, I love you Papa”

Charles looked over at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead, letting you settle onto his shoulder comfortably, everything was absolutely perfect, there was nothing that could come between the three of you again.

He would make sure of it, no matter what he had to do.

ʚlittle karter taglist

@goldenalbon @goldenmclaren @a1leexxa @treehouse-mouse @therealcap @wintfleur

english translations:

Maman, où est papa? - Mom where is daddy?

Il devrait être là dans la seconde, mon amour - He should be here any second my love

Est-ce que papa est déjà là? - is Daddy here?

Pas ce soir mon amour - Not tonight my love

Est-ce à cause de moi? - Is it because of me?

Petit amour, ce n’est pas ta faute et tu n’as rien fait de mal - Little love, it’s not your fault and you have done nothing wrong

Tu m’as tellement manqué petit prince, papa t’aime tellement. - i missed you so much little prince, daddy loves you so much

Papa je t’aime tellement, tu m’as manqué encore plus! - Daddy i love you so much i missed you even more!

Tu es mon soleil, mes étoiles, ma lune et le plus beau cadeau que j'ai jamais reçu. Je ne veux jamais te perdre - you are my sun, my stars, my moon and the greatest gift i’ve ever gotten, i never want to lose you

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bananami · 23 days

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A Day in the Nanami Household

a/n: this one is for the anon that asked for more papamin content. i went full domestic house, wife (gn), and kids. clearly im delusional and have thought about this way too much. and i didn't proof read it. sue me. i would do ungodly things to marry and have children with this man.

Mornings

They go one of two ways: perfectly smooth or absolute chaos. On mornings that things go according to plan you and Kento get up earlier than the kids to have coffee or tea. Some mornings Kento will even order breakfast to the house (a scone and croissant that you'll split between the both of you, five glazed munchkins for Nobara, a chocolate donut for Yuji, and a blueberry muffin for Megumi). Megumi is usually the first one up and will make his own way downstairs to where he knows you and Kento will be sitting on the couch watching the morning news. He's usually still tired and will curl his little body up on one of your laps and probably fall back asleep for another twenty minutes or so. Nobara is typically the next to wake up and Yuji will almost always have to be dragged out of bed. If the kids aren't being too difficult they'll get dressed easily and eat breakfast quickly and without complaint. Kento will help buckle them into their booster seats and kiss you goodbye before getting in his own car to drive to work. Nobara and Yuji will almost always laugh, make kissing noises, or yell eeeewwww!! from the back of the car, while Megumi waves goodbye to Kento until he can no longer see his dad's car. He'll always ask "is dad going to work?" and you'll always answer yes, and Yuji or Nobara will always follow up with "can I go to work with dad?" and you'll always answer no. They'll get out of the car easily, without any push back or crying, and you'll demand a hug and kiss from each of them. Yuji will cling on the longest, and he'll always add in that he's really really gonna miss you today.

On rougher mornings, you or Kento are typically already running behind. The both of you can tell it isn't going to be a good morning when one of the kids comes down complaining about something or when no one wakes up on their own. You have to practically bribe them to get up and get ready for school. Nobara will hate every hair style Kento tries to do on her, and finally he'll give up and ask to trade kids with you. Megumi's eyes will be watery all morning and he'll stop you every five minutes to whisper "can I stay home with you today?" and it'll break your heart every time to tell him no. Some days you do break and keep him home, and Kento will make fun of you for breaking so easy. The breakfast he ordered ahead will be delayed or cancelled altogether, so you'll have to make breakfast. And then of course all three of them want something completely different to eat, Yuji wants eggs and bacon, and Nobara wants pancakes, and Megumi wants cereal (oh and also to stay home *cue waterworks*). Everyone will get a poptart and be happy about it. If he has time, Kento will usually offer to drive the kids to school because he can see you growing frustrated, especially if one of them is sick or Megumi is having separation anxiety. Really bad mornings is when one of them is sick and crying, one is throwing a fit over not wanting to go to school, and the other is running around the living room refusing to put their shoes on because they think it's funny. Kento will use his dad voice, and that's usually where they all fall in line. From there, they'll get in the car, you'll help buckle them in, and you'll make sure you give your husband a kiss before he leaves. Megumi will try and ask one last time to stay home.

Afternoons

Kento works from home two out of three days of the week. It's those days that you two are able to work in any moments of intimacy. Those are your favorite days. Kento takes an hour lunch break. Sometimes you'll eat lunch, sometimes you are lunch (Kento hates when you describe it this way). Sometimes you just force him to cuddle with you on the couch (those are usually after the bad mornings). When Megumi wins the morning fights and gets to stay home, he sticks to your side the whole day. He'll ask to be picked up, or constantly be holding your hand, or he'll wrap his arms around your leg and make it near impossible for you to get anything done around the house. You've brought it up to his therapist and she assures you it's natural for him to have those moments given the situation you and Kento adopted him from. That reminder to yourself usually has you cuddling with him instead on the sofa all day. But he likes the days that Kento is also home because he likes to make lunch for him with you. Kento acts like those are the best lunches ever, you 'lie' and say Megumi made it all by himself, and Megumi lights up from the praise he gets from his dad after.

Sometimes, on days where the rest of the week has been really hard, Kento will cash in a day of PTO or use a sick day to stay home with you. He'll say it's because he wants to help you out around the house, but it's almost always because he just misses spending time with you without the kids around, as selfish as that may seem. Nothing will get done around the house. You'll spend all day in bed or on the couch watching tv, sometimes you'll step out for a lunch date together, and you're only rule with one another is that you don't talk about the kids unless it's absolutely necessary. At some point Kento will attempt to seduce you and you're not sure why you say attempt because he absolutely will. On more than one occasion the two of you have almost been late to pick up the kids. Their favorite days are when you and Kento are both there to pick them up.

Evenings

Yuji is usually the first one jumping into the car and throwing himself at the both of you, yapping on and on about his day at school. The three of them like to listen to whatever four songs they're currently hyperfixated on on repeat the whole ride home. And they'll sing them loudly and really badly until you pull into the drive way. Nobara will jump out of the car and run straight upstairs to take a bath because she doesn't like to smell bad and she needs to immediately wash the school germs off of her. Kento or you will start on dinner or make the decision to order in if neither of you feel up to cooking. The kids always want pizza or Asian food if you choose to order in. While one of you cooks, the other sits down with the kids to do homework. Kento is better at it and much more patient with them when it comes to homework, so you usually opt to cook.

Nobara is a total daddy's girl. For at least an hour a night she will lay on Kento's chest while he reads or sits on his iPad. But when he gets up to get everyone ready for bed she immediately is switching sides, asking for you to help her pick out her school clothes and braid her hair so it's curly in the morning. Then when it's time to tuck them in, she'll switch sides once again, demanding that Kento carry her to bed and check all the dark spots of her room for monsters. Kento will make a show of it, which you'll call him a dork for later. Megumi will sit up in his bed patiently waiting for the both of you to come in and say goodnight all the while Yuji is jumping up and down on his own bed stating that he is not tired and can't go to sleep just yet. Some nights it takes a while to get Yuji to settle down. More often than not, Yuji wakes up in the middle of the night crying (the night terrors are apparently also an expected symptom of his trauma prior to the adoption), and if he doesn't get up to come to lay in yours and Kento's bed then Megumi will get up and you'll find them laying in Yuji's twin together the next morning.

Every single night, you and Kento spend at least an hour together talking about your days or just relaxing in each other's company. You two debrief and plan for tomorrow together, or if it's Friday you plan out the weekend and when you'll make time for just the two of you. Kento is the perfect father and husband, and you never fail to remind him of this every night. And it doesn't matter how chaotic the mornings start because the nights always end the same way, with the two of you (and sometimes Yuji) laying together in awe of the life you built together.

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