#its a lovely rainy day and it's cold out and i love it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nereidprinc3ss · 27 days

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do you believe me now? | 3

in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded

part one | part two | part four

18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!

You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time.

It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned.

You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire.

“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”

He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground.

“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati.

Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing.

“Uh… four hours ago.”

“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”

He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face.

“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”

You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy.

“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”

His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep.

“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”

Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes.

“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”

Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment.

“But we made such good plans,” he laments.

You kiss his cheek.

“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”

It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win.

“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”

You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.

“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”

The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”

“You seem exhausted.”

“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.

Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.

“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy.

Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them.

“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”

“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”

Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all.

“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”

“Um…”

Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets.

“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table.

His eyebrows raise.

“I’m sure, honey.”

“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly.

“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”

It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that.

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly.

“Nothing. I just missed you.”

“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”

A slow smile spreads over your face.

“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”

You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably.

“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”

“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”

“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”

You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor.

“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”

Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly.

“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”

It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips.

“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”

“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him.

“Yeah? Like what?”

And just like that, you’re shy again.

“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”

“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”

And how could you ever deny him anything?

As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands.

“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”

Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against.

Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment.

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”

A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention.

“You okay?”

You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think.

“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”

It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have.

“Do you want to?”

Woah.

Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.

You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.

“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”

Show you how?

Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea.

“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try.

“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”

You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do.

“Got it.”

He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch.

“Scoot back a little, angel.”

Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—

Your breath catches.

Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him.

So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is.

The size sinks in a quick second later.

You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?

No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving.

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response.

Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”

Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening.

“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch.

“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.

“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”

It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath.

“Okay. What do I do?”

“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”

You look up, alarmed.

“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”

“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously.

Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre.

“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation.

“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh.

“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong.

“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head.

“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”

You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”

Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him.

“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it.

“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out.

For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours.

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?

“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”

You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs.

“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”

“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident.

“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”

“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”

“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you.

“Because I like to listen.”

“What if I do, too?”

In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped.

“Jesus, fuck.”

You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is.

Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought.

You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?”

His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers.

“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”

“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”

Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.

“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”

Wide eyes dart up to his.

“Really?”

Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek.

“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”

“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”

“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind.

Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower.

“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears.

“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate.

“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”

Spencer can’t help but laugh again.

“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away.

“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile.

“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers.

You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.

From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”

You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible.

“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him.

Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence.

You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”

You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets.

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can.

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips.

“It’s okay, Spence, I—”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”

“Do you care what I think at all?”

Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing.

“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”

It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt.

“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer.

“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”

He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance.

“That was really good, baby. You did well.”

You blossom.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?”

I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls.

Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.

Fuck.

He really wants to tell you right now.

“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest.

It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.

“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”

You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated.

“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”

Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him.

“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”

“Oh.”

Spencer thinks he sees where this is going.

“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”

“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”

Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face.

“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”

Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now.

“What got you all excited?”

“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw.

“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”

You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.

“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”

“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”

Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again.

“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him.

“Stand up.”

You frown.

“But—”

“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy.

You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him.

“Why?”

“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing.

As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—

But no.

There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—

“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”

“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh.

“Sit.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes,” he says, simply.

“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”

“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”

Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again.

“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and his grip tightens ever so slightly.

“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”

Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening.

“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there.

“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?

“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him.

“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”

You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit.

“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”

You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all.

“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath.

“Yeah? Does it?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty.

“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh.

“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”

You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it.

“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”

You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words.

“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”

“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.

“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”

But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.

You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.

“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”

In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.

And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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thephant0menace · 1 year

Text

| Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley head cannons

Comfort

Warnings: strong language, crying, Wife!reader x Husband!Simon Riley, FLUFF🤭

Nothing was going right for you today…

Everything was just pissing you off and by the end of the day you just wanted to curl up in your bed and cry.

It was a rainy Tuesday night and you were a wandering around the kitchen, cleaning and sipping on some tea when your husband came home from work.

“Hey love…” he sighed as he slips his mask off his face. He was clearly tired from a long and rough day at the base.

You just grumbled out a quiet ‘hi’ as you finished wiping the kitchen bench down.

Simon scoffs, a little surprised at your grumpy answer.

“What the fucks up your ass tonight?” He smirks, walking over towards you with his arms out to hug you.

You just glare up at him angrily before storming off to your shared room.

Simon stands there confused and a little concerned. He’s never seen you so cold and angry towards him before.

Meanwhile you are laying, face down in your bed and sobbing.

You couldn’t handle the stress of the day anymore and you just snapped.

After a few minutes you hear the bedroom door creak open and a pair of heavy footsteps entering the room.

You feel the bed dip next to you and that’s when you lift your head.

You look up at Simon with tears streaming down your red and puffy cheeks.

He puts a hand on your back, his thumb gently rubbing small circles.

Part of him feels awkward and a little confused on what happened or what he did but the other half feels sympathy and a need to hold you and make you feel better.

Simon clears his throat, “do you, uh…want me to stay or go?” He asks a little unsure of what to do.

You pout your lips, attempting to hold back tears before choking out a broken ‘stay’ and reaching your arms out to hug him.

He pulls you onto his lap, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as you continue to sob.

His hands wrap around your waist, rubbing soft circles on your back.

“Rough day?” He asks softly.

You nod, whimpering softly.

“Me too, lovie…me too. Its okay…it’ll be okay.”

Your crying and whimpering slowly comes to a stop and you feel your body relax into your husbands arms as he places soft kisses on your head.

“M’sorry Simon,” you sniffle, looking up at him.

“No need to be sorry, sweetheart…we all have our days.” He whispers soothingly, gently brushing fallen strands of hair out of your face.

“What do ya say we relax in bed and watch a movie or somethin’? Maybe we can order food.” He gives you a playful smile.

The rest of your night was spent cuddled up to Simon, eating take out while watching the most cheesy roncoms you could find.

Moments like these were so precious to both you and Simon.

Just spending time together like a normal couple and enjoying each other’s presence.

A/N: SO SORRY I HAVEN’T POSTED IN AGES!!! I’ve been so busy with dancing and school and work, and on top of that the 400 assignments I have due…but I had to make time to do things I enjoy like writing. So I hope you enjoyed this little scenario I came up with <3

#simon riley imagines #ghost x reader #Simon Riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty imagines #cod mwf2 #cod smut #cod imagines #modern warefare 2 #Call of duty #Ghost smut #task force 141 #Task Force 141 smut #Simon Riley fluff #simon riley fanfic

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cold-kitty · 2 months

Text

Today's poll winner was... Yandere Neuvillette! (HAPPY ASS SQUEALING I LOVE HIM SO MUCH)

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DISCLAIMER: I only know a little about him, I only just started Fontaine, so sorry if anything is super wrong.

Contains: Thoughts of kidnapping, slight depression for Neuvillette, angsty (if you squint), actual love <3

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Yan!Neuvillette is definitely a guilty yandere, he hates that he's like this.

Yan!Neuvillette had someone find him an office helper, someone to tidy a bit, help with cases possibly, maybe get him some water here and there. and that's all you were for a while.

Yan!Neuvillette who finds himself drawn to you, catching himself stealing a glance every now and then.

Yan!Neuvillette who at first thinks that he just likes you, might as well like each other if you work together after all. but he finds his chest swelling every time he looks at you, a lovely yet almost painful feeling.

Yan!Neuvillette who is much happier when you're around him, it's almost always a sunny day.

Yan!Neuvillette who finds himself jealous when you're around other people, especially if you're laughing or touching them.

Yan!Neuvillette who finds himself dreaming about having you all to himself, keeping you in a lavish room...

Yan!Neuvillette who wakes up in a cold sweat, disgusted with himself. he avoids you at work, it was cloudy that day.

Yan!Neuvillette who doesn't see you at work the next day, and he starts to feel guilty. did you feel bad because he avoided you? were you sick? it was extra cloudy that day.

Yan!Neuvillette who doesn't see you the next day either. he spends that day crying at his desk, wondering if it's his fault. it was rainy that day.

Yan!Neuvillette who ends up sobbing the next day, getting absolutely no work done. the town was under flood warning that day.

Yan!Neuvillette who prepares himself for another crying session the next day only to see you waiting in his office. he lunges at you, quite literally, and almost falls to his feet as he squeezes you into a desperate hug.

Yan!Neuvillette who feels a mix of great relief when you tell him that you were just sick, watching as you try to awkwardly return the hug. he tells you that he'll make you soup the next time you get sick, so just tell him.

Yan!Neuvillette who wants nothing more than to hold you like this all day, and he sort of does, making sure he's near you at all times. it was dribbling slightly that day, but it was extremely sunny. his chest was full of that swelling feeling, that lovely, painful feeling of love all day.

Yan!Neuvillette who watches as you excitedly point out the window, confused at first, but then he sees...

a rainbow as beautiful as you.

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SCREAMING CRYING PISSING MYSELF I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

I definitely spent a lot of time on this one, (I am delusional and I have an actually unhealthy obsession with him) so I hope it was good!

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RANDOM BUT LOOK AT MY DOOR

ITS NEUVIEEEEEE (send help)

~🐈‍⬛

#yandere x reader #yandere x male darling #yandere x you #yandere #yandere neuvillette

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thewulf · 2 months

Text

Never Let You Go || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Hiya! Can i request an angsty/fluffy aaron fic?Aaron and reader get into a fight because reader has been ignoring hotch since he forgot her birthday (its been a week after at that point) so he confronts her and they fight.... Read Rest Here

A/N: You guys have the best requests. Please keep sending them in. Hope you like a good little hurt/comfort.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

TW: Yelling, intentional hurt

It was a rainy Saturday night when your heart broke for the hundredth time under the false promises from your longtime boyfriend, Aaron. You knew what you were getting into when you got into the relationship all those years ago. You knew he worked long hours. You knew he had a son who was his, and now your, priority. You knew he would have to cancel plans, dates, anniversaries. You knew it all. What you didn’t expect was him to forget about your birthday completely. He was home, at the BAU, and worked late instead of coming home and taking you out. You had plans! But he just… forgot.

It wasn’t until you brought it up the next day, mumbling it to him with a saddened look did he recognize he had forgotten. What broke your heart was the fact that he didn’t even make up for it. He didn’t get you flowers or a gift or even apologize. He just… moved on. And you had no idea how much it bothered you until that fateful Saturday night as the rain poured down. You were angry at him. You had accepted the misses and the cancelations. What you couldn’t get over was the fact that he had forgotten it completely and didn’t even want to make it right.

When you heard the lock twist and Aaron entered your shared residence all you wanted to do was run away from him. You didn’t want to talk to him. You didn’t even want to look at him. You weren’t sure if you even wanted to be with him anymore.

When he walked into the kitchen you turned away, busying yourself with unloading the dishwasher.

“Hey baby.” He walked over to you giving you a hug from behind. Aaron wasn’t remiss to the way you tensed under his touch. How you simply mumbled something incoherent to him. It was when you pushed him away did he finally realize something was off.

“Honey, what’s up?” He asked.

Was he playing dumb? Did he really not know just how deeply he had hurt you by ignoring something you loved so much? You knew it was silly, but birthdays were your thing. You were the friend who went all out for others. You just wanted someone to celebrate you the way you had to others, especially Aaron.

You felt tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as your brain got yourself worked up. Maybe it was best to just keep quiet because you had no idea if you could hold back the waterworks. So, instead of answering him you simply walked away. Your momma always taught you it was best to not get into an argument when you were feeling emotional about the situation.

But that seemed to set him off further. You had been cold to him all week. Not greeting him like you normally did. Not leaving out his dinner like you so often would when he worked late. Yet you just couldn’t seem to care. If he didn’t care for you why should you return the favor?

He couldn’t take it anymore. So, he snapped at you. "Are you ever going to talk to me?" Aaron's voice breaks the suffocating silence in the home, the frustration evident in his tone. You were thankful Jack was sleeping over at a friend’s house now. You knew the inevitable fight was bound to happen.

You sat down on the couch, but you didn’t dare turn to face him. "What's there to talk about?" Your voice is icy, the bitterness seeping through each word.

Aaron took a step closer to you, the distance between you feeling like an icy rift he wasn’t quite used to with you. "You know exactly what we need to talk about," he retorts, his patience wearing thin. "You've been ignoring me ever since—"

"Since you forgot my birthday?" You cut him off sharply, your voice laced with resentment. "Yeah, I remember. You’re a profiler. Profile it Aaron." Venom was laced in your voice as you finally made eye contact.

His jaw clenches at the reminder, guilt gnawing at his insides. He messed up, and he knows it. And he knew he had been ignoring it. Ignoring the subtle signs, you left him. He knew how important these things were to you. And he took the cowards route of simply trying to ignore it. He knew better than to do that with you. He had been taking advantage of your kindness thinking you would simply ignore it. But you were reaching your breaking point. And he was exhausted from work. He simply knew this wasn’t about to be a good conversation.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He offered. But the effort felt hallow.

You shook your head blinking back the tears. “You’re just saying that because I’m angry! You had no intention of making it right Aaron!” You hardly ever raised your voice yet here you were, yelling at the man who looked overly tired. He rarely brought home his work with him, but it must’ve been something about his last case that had ravaged him.

He let out a rather obvious sigh of frustration, clearly exhausted. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You bit back the harsh words you wanted to use. “I wanted you to remember! To apologize for forgetting. I want you to pretend like you give a single shit about me! You couldn’t even remember my birthday?” That was a low blow, and you knew it yet somehow you couldn’t care.

Things were bound to spiral when you saw the anger in his gaze. “I apologized! If you didn’t make such a big deal about something so small this wouldn’t even be a problem. I’m starting to see why I forgot.”

It felt like the wind was knocked out of you right then and there. Each word feeling like another dagger to your already broken heart. Physically, you recoiled as if he had hit you, your eyes were wide with disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that.” You stood from the couch knowing you were going to run away from him. Your voice wavered just above a whisper as you spoke.

Regret washed over his face as he heard your floundering voice. He had taken it too far. Gone a step further than he needed. He crossed that invisible line that held the relationship together. “Baby… I didn’t mean it like that.” His eyes were wide as he reached for you. But you wouldn’t let him touch you, no. Not after those comments. “I’m just tired and frustrated and I just wanted to hold you tonight. I hate that we are fighting over something so stupid. But baby, I don’t know how to fix this. Tell me what I need to do.”

You shook your head rapidly frustrated beyond belief with him. “Something so stupid?” Your voice gave way to the weakness you felt in the moment, “My birthday is stupid now?”

Your words hung heavy in the air between the two of you. Aaron felt that lump form in his throat knowing he had used the wrong words yet again. It felt like he was being crushed over the weight of his mistakes now.

Before he can find the words to respond, you turn on your heel, your shoulders slumped with defeat. "I'm not so sure if there's anything left to fix," you say softly before walking away, leaving him standing alone in the wreckage of your shattered relationship in the living room of your home.

As he watches you disappear down the hallway, Aaron knows that he has lost more than just an argument. He has lost a piece of your heart, and he isn't sure if he will ever be able to win it back. But he is determined to try, no matter what it takes. Because you were worth fighting for, worth every moment of pain and heartache it would take to earn your forgiveness. And as he stood there alone in the empty room, Aaron vowed to do whatever it takes to make things right again. Even if it means confronting the darkest parts of himself and facing the harsh truth of his own shortcomings.

The silence in the house is deafening as Aaron stands outside the closed bedroom door, his heart heavy with regret. He can feel the weight of his mistakes coming own on him, each passing second only serving to deepen the ache in his chest. With a trembling hand, he reaches out and knocks softly on the door, the sound reverberating through the empty hallway. "Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur. "Let me in."

There is no response from the other side, no indication that you have even heard him. But Aaron refuses to give up hope. He knows he has hurt you, but he can't bear the thought of losing you, not now, not ever. And you laid there in your bed, hurting beyond measure trying to ignore the man you loved more than life itself.

"Please, just talk to me," he pleads, his voice cracking with every emotion. "I know I screwed up, but I'm begging you, give me a chance to make it right. Please baby."

Still, there is nothing but silence from the other side of the door, and Aaron feels his heart sink even further. He presses his forehead against the cool wood, his chest constricted with the weight of his longing. You wanted to forgive him, to let him in. But you couldn’t, not yet. No matter how desperate he sounded.

"I can't do this without you," he pleads, his voice barely a whisper. "You mean everything to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness. Just... please, let me in." He tries once more to get you to crack. And it worked. You’d never heard him so desperate. His voice so raw with emotion.

For what felt like an eternity, there was no response, and Aaron feared that he had lost you for good. But just as he is about to give up hope, he hears the faint sound of movement from within the room, followed by the soft click of the door unlocking. As much as you wished you knew you couldn’t ice him out completely. You had both thrown unkind words at the other

His heart leaps with hope as the door cracks open, revealing your tear-streaked face, your eyes red and puffy from crying. Aaron's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, his heart breaking at the pain he has caused. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I never meant to hurt you. Please, let me make it right."

You hesitate for a moment, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. But then, with a resigned sigh, you step aside, silently inviting him into the room. Without a second thought, Aaron crosses the room, pulling you into his arms with a fierce, desperate longing. He holds you close, his heart overflowing with gratitude as he vows to never hurt you like he had just done.

As Aaron holds you tightly against him, he feels the weight of your sorrow pressing against his chest. He can sense the tremors wracking your body, the silent sobs that wring tears from your eyes, and it tears at his soul with a sharp, agonizing ache. "I'm not supposed to be the one who makes you cry," he whispers, his voice thick with remorse. "I'm the one who's supposed to dry your eyes, to chase away your tears, not cause them."

His words hang heavy in the air between you, a painful reminder of the mistakes he had made. He had never wanted to hurt you, never imagined that his actions could bring you to such sadness. And yet, here you are, crumbling in his arms, your heart laid bare for him to see. "I'm so sorry baby," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head as you bury your face against his chest, your tears soaking through the thin fabric of his shirt. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, I promise."

But his assurances feel hollow, meaningless in the face of your pain. He knows that mere words are not enough to mend the wounds he has inflicted, that it will take more than empty promises to earn your forgiveness. For he had let you down so many times before. As Aaron holds you close, he knows that his actions will speak louder than any words he could offer. He will need to show you, day by day, that he is truly sorry, that he is committed to making amends and rebuilding the trust he has shattered.

He begins by being there for you in every way that he could possibly be, anticipating your needs before you even have to ask. He cooked your favorite meals, not because he wants to impress you, but because he wants to show you that he does in fact care about you. He knows you more than you knew yourself. He listens to you, really listens, to every word you speak, hanging on to your every thought and feeling, eager to understand the depths of your sadness caused by him.

He showers you with small gestures of affection, leaving little notes around the house, reminding you of his love and devotion. He holds your hand when you walk as a reassurance that he will always be by your side, no matter what.

But most importantly, he gives you space when you need it, allowing you the time and freedom to heal at your own pace. He doesn't push you to forgive him, doesn't demand your trust before you are ready. Instead, he remains patient, steadfast in his determination to prove himself worthy of your love once more. And as the days turn into weeks, and the weeks into months, Aaron watches with bated breath as the walls you had erected around your heart begin to crumble. He sees the flicker of hope in your eyes, the tentative smile that graces your lips more and more often. He sees you returning to the light he had let burn out.

And when you finally reach out to him with a certain uncertainty, Aaron knows that he has been given a second chance. A chance to rebuild what they had lost, stronger and more resilient than ever before. And so he takes your hand in his vowing to never let you go, to cherish you, to protect you, to love you with every fiber of his being. As you walk hand in hand into the future, Aaron knows that you have weathered the storm together. The two of you emerged on the other side, whole once more.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

Request Taglist: @spookyparadisesheep @nelliebug18 @fictionallifestuff

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chuubacca-writes · 11 months

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A/N - Thank you so much for being my first request! I hope this is too your liking!

Pairing - Sebastian x GN!Farmer

Summary - Sebastian realizes he is falling in love with the new farmer that just moved into the valley.

Warnings - Mentions of smoking/cigarettes (cuz its Seb)

Word Count - 495

At first, Sebastian didn’t think much of the news that there was a new farmer moving into the valley. He just assumed he would never see them since he spent most of his time holed up in front of his computer.

Until fate struck one rainy day. he had emerged from the basement to get a snack from the kitchen. The farmer came in to visit Robin, their rain boots clunking against the wood of the floor, leaving small puddles with every step, rain dripping from the brim of their hat. Sebastian couldn’t look away when the farmer shot him a smile and a small wave before going back to their business with Robin.

Ever since then, Seb hoped he would ‘accidentally’ run into the farmer more often.

“What’s with that face?” Sam asked him one day as they stood in their usual hang out spot under the tree.

Sebastian took a drag from his cigarette, raising an eyebrow. “What face?”

“The one you made when the farmer walked by just now.” Sam smirked.

Sebastion rolled his eyes, turning away so that his friend couldn’t see the light flush of pink on his cheeks.

It didn’t get better as time went on. Every time the farmer waved at him while he was working on his motorcycle in the garage, pickaxe on their shoulder and a smile on their face. Every time he saw them collecting shells iat the beach or fishing in the mountains. Every time he saw the farmer, it only made the fuzzy feeling stronger.

“What is happening to me?” Sebastian finally asked Sam and Abagail.

“It sounds like you have a little crush.” Abagail said with a smug smile.

“Aww, our little brooding tough guy has a crush on the farmer!” Sam teased, making Sebastian’s cheeks turn pink.

“Shut up, i don’t have a crush.”

But it got harder and harder to believe that when Sebastian spent every waking moment thinking about the farmer.

“What are you smiling about?” Robin asked after the farmer left the carpenter’s shop. Sebastian quickly wiped the dopey grin off his face, retreating back to his basement refuge.

He finally realized how absolutely down bad he was for the farmer when he caught them searching for shells on the beach in the heavy rain. Their overalls were drenched and their boots were full of water. He could hear the familiar clunk of their boots when they came up to greet him on the dock. That stupidly perfect smile on their face as if they were’t soaked from head to toe in cold rainwater.

The way their face lit up when he offered his umbrella, it made his heart flutter in his chest. When they shuffled closer to fit under the small canopy, mumbling a soft apology when they brushed against his jacket sleeve.

“I’m usually anxious around people.” he admitted.

‘But i find myself wanting to be around you more and more.’ was his heart’s unspoken confession.

#stardew valley #stardew #stardew valley fic #stardew valley x reader #stardew x reader #sdv x reader #sdv fluff #sdv sebastian #sdv sebastian x reader #sdv sebastian fluff #stardew valley sebastian #request #reqs open #clover's ☘︎ fics

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weasleyreidstyles · 2 months

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a game of wizards chess on a rainy day

~∞~ i've never written for enzo before but my mutuals (love you all🫶🏼) have slowly been turning me into an enzo girlie 🤭🤭 this if for week three of @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge!!

pairing: enzo berkshire x fem!slytherin reader, platonic mattheo riddle x reader

prompt: wizards chess/"you filthy cheater, we go again!"

warning(s): none its all fluff!!!

The weekend's rainy weather brought with it a sense of serenity and peace as it swept across the Scottish highlands like a flurrying storm. The castle grounds were barren of people, everyone making the unanimous decision to avoid the heavy downpour that had steadily been building in a crescendo all week. The corridors were even emptier, avoided by those who wanted to escape the cold, only the odd person running late to a detention, or for a quick stop in the kitchens, could be seen or heard amongst the chattering painting and silently gliding ghosts.

The common rooms however, were teeming with students, from all year groups. In the Slytherin common room, you and your friends had been some of the lucky few to snag a small grouping of pleated seats, right beside a roaring fire. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that one of said friends was the feared Dark Lord's son, but either way, you were grateful that you could relax by the fire for a few hours, soaking up what little warmth the dungeons could provide in such miserable weather conditions.

Except that you feel anything but relaxed right now. You had somehow found yourself sitting across the small coffee table from Enzo, a fierce game of wizards chess playing out between the two of you. It was common knowledge, between you and your friends, that you absolutely sucked at it, but that didn't stop you from trying, and failing, to beat Enzo at his own favoured game.

You jumped back on your haunches as his bishop savagely destroyed one of your lone pawns and gaped as he jumped up and cheered at his small victory, ignoring the way students around him violently shushed him with scowling faces. Your friends, who only paid sporadic attention to the pair of you, smirked as Enzo sneakily glanced your way, to watch how your face would scrunch in barely restrained irritation.

"And he strikes again!" He says with a cheer, that has Draco glaring at him from over his Potions homework with narrowed eyes. Enzo vehemently ignores him in favour of watching the way your face shifts between a million and one emotions in a split second. "I'm like two moves away from checkmate, sweetheart. Are you sure you can handle losing, again?"

The way he's smirking at you, with mirth painting his face, those brilliantly vibrant eyes of his shining as he stares across the table at you, has a blush fighting it's way up your neck. You scowl at him, menacingly.

"No one likes a show off, Berkshire." You snap, as you move your last remaining rook to take his knight. When Mattheo and Theo snicker from behind you, you turn and rapidly send a glare worthy of one of their own that has them covering their faces to try and hide their laughter from you. Even Draco, who'd been more withdrawn lately, had let out a quiet chuckle.

Sorry love. Mattheo says to you wordlessly and you narrow your glare, solely, on him. But you're not doing a very good job at this.

"Well there's no need to laugh at my misfortune, Matt." You reply and he smirks as he watches the way Enzo looks questioningly between you and him, before he moves another one of his pieces, putting you in checkmate.

You turn towards the table again as you hear the sound of shattering porcelain, watching as your rook is destroyed by his queen, which is now somehow in line with your king piece. You search the board for somewhere you can go, and come up agonisingly empty. You gape at the smug boy across from you.

"You filthy cheater!" You accuse and Enzo sends you a smirk that could bring you to your knees at anytime of the day.

"I did no such thing, sweetheart." He says, but the mischief shining in his russett eyes makes you believe otherwise. "Maybe you should pay attention next time."

His words ignite a challenge within you and you steel yourself as the pair of you become locked into a heated staring contest. In your peripheral, you watch as your friends whisper conspicuously between each other, but you pay them no mind.

Huffing you use your wand to fix and rearrange the pieces to their original positions.

"We go again!" You say resolutely, kneeling closer to the table, as if it would somehow make your wizards chess abilities rise to the surface. But you knew that it was wishful thinking.

Ready to lose again, sweetheart? Enzo speaks to you wordlessly, and your glare intensifies at the way his voice lowers a decibel or two, making it a low rasp in your head. I promise I'll go easy on you. He's smirking to himself as he moves the first piece.

And the cycle continues for another hour, until Blaise lets out an aggrieved sigh and takes your place. You sit beside Pansy huffing as you cross your arms over your chest, casting a look of contempt at Enzo, who does a terrible job of hiding his smug face. After half an hour, their game is a close one, and Blaise only just beats Enzo with a move of pure luck.

The latter comes to sit beside you after that, the game becoming abandoned on the table, an arm reaching across the back of the sofa, hand tracing featherlight patterns against your jumper covered shoulder. He's staring at the side of your face, tracing the way your hair falls in rippling waves as you tilt your head in favour of engrossing yourself in a book instead of focusing on him.

"Still bitter that I won, sweetheart?" He murmurs, leaning in close so that his lips brush the shell of your ear.

The twitch of your lip is the only thing that gives away that you hear him, but you choose to ingore him in favour of finishing the chapter, or at least you try to.

Since Enzo had sat down, you'd read the same sentence at least five times now. He pokes your shoulder with the hand that had been previously caressing it and you turn to him, breath hitching imperceptibly when you realise just how close he is to you.

"I'm only bitter because you cheated. I could've won fair and square." You say, your lips falling into a pout that Enzo desperately wants to kiss away.

"I'm no cheater." He says with enough self assurance that you might be inclined to believe him. "You were the one who turned away from the game."

"Only because Matt distracted me!" You retort, your face moving closer to his on your own accord.

"Perhaps I should put you out of your misery and teach you how to play." He whispers. The tension building between the two of you could be severed by a knife with how palpable the charged atmosphere is.

Said knife appears in the form of Theodore's hushed voice, which sounds fed up as much as it is amused.

"For Salazar's sake, please put us all out of the fucking misery of witnessing this and kiss." It was meant to be a muttered statement between himself and your other friends, but it reaches you nonetheless, causing you to recoil from the close proximity to Enzo, covering your reddening cheeks with your hands.

Enzo doesn't bother to remove his arm from where it practically cradles you into him as he scowls at his best friend. But when you don't move away from his touch, he thanks any god he can think of that you don't shy away from him.

The rest of the afternoon is spent in content silence as you and your friends bask in the murky green glow of the lake, warmed only by the heat of the fire. But you feel heated for a whole other reason, because Enzo's arm is yet to be unwound from your shoulder as you busy yourself with burrowing into his body heat, the position cosy enough for you to settle into finishing your book, and eventually even lulling you to sleep.

Enzo stares down at you with a smile as your book falls limply into his lap. He gingerly picks it up and slides the bookmark, that you'd left on the coffee table, into place before gently putting it on the floor beside your bag. He brings your body closer to his and marvels at the way you instinctively nuzzle your face into his chest, relaxed by the steady beat of his pounding heart.

He places a barely there kiss to the crown of you head and he swears he sees the ghost of a smile gracing your pretty lips.

One day. He'd confess to you one day.

And by the twin looks that he spies on Matt and Theo's faces, that day may come sooner than either of you may think.

~∞~

A little bonus scene:

"I don't understand how the two of them are so oblivious." Pansy says quietly as she watches the way you berate Enzo with no mutinous ammunition behind your words. "They're so obviously in love with eachother."

"Well they are idiots, bella." Theo says with a laugh. "It'll take it being spelled out for them to realise it."

"We cannot meddle with their love lives." Blaise counters, although his glimmering eyes give away that he wants to do exactly that. Draco looks like he agrees.

"Oh come on, B!" Mattheo retorts, a devilish look overtaking his features. "Where's the fun in that?"

"I'll bet twenty galleons that you can't get them to admit it by the end of the month." Pansy offers with a feline smirk and Mattheo's eyes light up in challenge.

"You have yourself a bet, love. Prepared to lose?" He smirks at his friend who only winks back at him before she settles into Theo's side.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." She says and they all turn to watch the way Enzo blatently stares at you, eternal love shining in his russett eyes. "Enzo's looks like he's about to burst with it."

#hogmarch challenge #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys x reader #fluff #so much fluff

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vivwritesfics · 7 months

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Hello love your writing btw. I was wondering if you could write a one shot or blurb about the reader and Daniel Ricciardo (maybe if you're willing Carlos Sainz) just relaxing swaying in the kitchen while they cook dancing and laughing to Sway by Michael Buble while it's dark cold and rainy outside.

Dancing In The Dark - DR3

Have you ever been so in love that your entire lives are intertwined? Like, shared house, shared cooking, shared cleaning, shared playlists?

That's how in love Y/N L/N was with Daniel Ricciardo.

When he wasn't travelling the world, they did everything together.

They cooked together most every night, Y/N preparing vegetables or the meat or whatever went in the dinner while Danny took care of the rice or spaghetti or whatever they might have had in the oven.

They had their music playing as they cooked, their playlist coming out of the speaker system. Danny danced as he waited by the stove or the oven and Y/N shook her body gently as she chopped and prepared.

Taylor Swift was playing, a song that Danny had added to their playlist. Danny stepped away from the oven and walked over to the girlfriend. He took her hand, putting down her knife, and turned her around. Placing her arms around his neck, Daniel swayed from side to side.

With her head on his shoulder, Y/N looked up at him as he moved them. "Danny, I need to keep on with dinner," she said and pulled away from him.

But Danny didn't let her go. He pulled her back in, spun her around and let her go again.

This was a normal occurrence, especially when they were doing any kind of chores. Danny could afford for them to have a maid or a cleaner, but Y/N wouldn't let him. She loved doing chores, music on in the background as Danny cleaned at her side.

Careless Whisper came on the speaker. Danny dropped the feather duster and turned to his girlfriend. "Something in your eyes," he sang, shaking his hips. "Calls to mind a silver screen."

"And its all sad good-byes," Y/N replied. It was pointless trying to resist him. She wasn't dancing though, she was still cleaning the surfaces in the living room.

Danny walked over and put down the surface cleaner and cloth. "I'm never gonna dance again."

"Guilty feet have got no rhythm!" They shouted together.

Careless Whisper wasn't their song, not by any means. But they loved it, it was the perfect song to scream in the middle of their living room in the late evening when they were still cleaning (because Danny had made them stop so many times to dance).

Danny span her. He sent her around once, twice.

At the saxophone, Danny let go of her and shook his hips in time with it.

Date night.

Y/N loved date night. They'd go out to a restaurant or to see a movie or to an arcade or something. Date night always ended with them in the living room, a glass of wine in hand, candles lit and music playing as they sat on the couch.

Sway, the Michael Bublé version, came on over the speakers. As soon as Danny heard it he was up and pulling Y/N up with him. She went willingly, one hand in his and the other on her on his shoulder.

Daniel took the lead, moving them around the living room. He spun her around and pulled her back in. Danny's steps were quick, messy, almost impossible to keep up with. But Y/N managed it, she had done ever since the day they met.

At the chorus, Danny blindly stepped back, pulling Y/N with him. They went stumbling, over the back of the couch. They fell down in a fit of giggles, knocking their red wine over in the process. "Shit, Danny," she said through her giggle. "The rug!"

Their once cream rug was now ruined, a huge whine stain spread across the middle. "That's never coming out."

Daniel let out a laugh and kissed the top of her head. "We'll get a new one tomorrow," Daniel answered, wrapping his arms around her.

Daniel and Y/N loved dancing together. They did it throughout their relationship, right up until they got married. At their wedding, their first dance was to Careless Whisper. They knew their family and friends were judging them, but they didn't much care.

When sway came on, Y/N's friend gave them a knowing look.

They danced through the night, until the early hours of the morning. By the time they were off to their honeymoon, their feet were hurting and they were exhausted. But they were so, so happy.

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twstedstoryshop · 7 months

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Prize for @windalchemist001 from my fan event in August. I apologize deeply to the prize winners for how long these are taking as my life is taken up a lot by my new job and that drains me of working on these. But these are slowly but surely coming along, I assure you. Until then, please bear with me. -Shopkeep

Finding Out You Have A Crush On Him

Trey I believe would come to figure out your crush through overheard conversations or someone having to spell it out for him. Either due to Ace and Deuce unknowingly gossiping over your crush or Cater just straight up telling him in his own Cay-Cay way.

Now Trey wasn’t a romanticist at heart, especially considering how he blundered with the Ghost Bride way back when. So with this newfound knowledge, Trey would do the best thing he can think of… Sit on this knowledge and never let it surface.

What else is he supposed to do? Go charging up to you, declaring he likes you too and should totally start dating? That wouldn’t be fair to you, putting you on the spot.

Instead, he allows you to let you sort out your feelings, whether you pursue them or not. There’s no pressure in whatever choice you do.

Though it wouldn’t be too hard to notice on your end that Trey would start acting a bit awkward and stiff. He doesn’t mean to come off like that, but when in the face of someone he knows who likes him, he can’t help but maybe straighten his posture more. Maybe act a bit more softer.

Trey is always marked as the reliable older brother type. So with a highschool crush on him, it wouldn’t hurt to maybe act a little like his age. An awkward boy unsure of how to navigate this newfound affection. Who knows, maybe act a bit selfish and roll a little in your attention just for him alone.

Malleus could either or having someone tell him about your crush. Most likely Lilia in his teasing ways. Or perhaps with his keener senses, noticed your affections for him.

With the knowledge of your crush, Malleus would feely content in the way a satisfied cat would smirk after finishing its creme. It would be hard not to catch Malleus’ very good mood for the following days.

The weather would be pleasant, not a single cloud in the sky, and the wind is gentle. Something that may or may not catch some of NRC’s attention, especially if it’s expected to be cold or rainy weather for the season.

Malleus, while eager, would wait with baited breath to see what his dear child of man would do to convey their love. It gives him a great satisfaction to be wanted and chased after, so he would want to hear it from you first.

Even if you have stutters or slip-ups, Malleus finds it all so endearing and locks your attempts of confession under lock and key in his memory. What he wouldn’t allow is if someone dares to interrupt you when you’re working up the courage to tell your feelings.

A quick thunderclap and a venomous glare gets his point across before he immediately looks back to you with a softened expression. “You were saying, my dear child of man?”

It would be a relatively peaceful courtship until the confession is made thanks to some sway from the dragon prince himself.

Silver would definitely have to be told outright of your feelings. For comedy’s sake, it would be hilarious if the one who had to spell things out for him was Sebek of all people.

The loud-mouthed proud guard would be aghast of how oblivious Silver was. The fact that he could pinpoint something beyond Silver’s recognition has him smug one moment but also a little annoyed for your sake. Not that he would ever admit that.

Once Silver truly digested Sebek’s words, Silver’s handsome features would burst into a magnificent shade of pink. Flushed either from embarrassment over his crude unawareness and a part deeply flattered by your affection.

Silver wouldn’t make any moves though as you mulled over your feelings. He wouldn’t dare try to put you on the spot, but you do notice how lately he feels a bit more caring and gentleman-ly personally for you.

If Malleus or Lilia didn’t need him, Silver would often escort you wherever you needed to go despite you knowing your way around. He even tries to lend a hand in helping you study. Despite his own grades suffering a bit with his sleeping habits.

Silver would be uncertain about all this though, truth be spoken. He’s never really had romantic feelings before or felt much need for a romance in the first place. But the idea that someone liked him so innocently and sincerely does charm him profoundly.

Like a shy forest creature, daring to come near him and be in his presence, he only wished to offer his hand towards you. Who knows, maybe falling a lil bit in love wouldn’t be so bad during his high school days…

#lovelygrimoire #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #trey clover x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst silver x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland hcs #twst headcanons #twst hcs #twst scenario #twisted wonderland scenario

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ghostofhyuck · 1 month

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NCT Dream and rainy days with them.

Mark Lee

Rainy days reminds you of the last time you saw Mark. He's off to pursue his dreams. It was pouring hard when you joined in sending him off to the airport. He wasn't holding any umbrella, only wearing a hoodie to prevent him from getting wet. You stood there, at the outside of the airport, watching him say goodbye to his friends and family, and for the last time, he approaches you, hugging you tightly. The wet droplets of his hoodie staining you as you couldn't do anything but cherish the moment.

Huang Renjun

You're afraid of thunderstorms. Often times, you couldn't sleep and you tried your best to not be startled by its sound. This is one of the nights where it's not working. The continuous sound of thunder just keeps you awake, agitated. You sat in front of your bed, cold sweat running through your forehead. "Babe?" you didn't even noticed that you woke Renjun up. He asked you what's wrong, but before you could answer, you were startled by the thunder. "Come here," Renjun said. He lets you rest onto his arms, wrapping you close to him, and as he taps your back lightly, he hums a song to distract you from the thunder.

Lee Jeno

Somehow, you two didn't check the weather today and woke up with the heavy pour slapping the bedroom window. You felt more sleepy, clinging more to your boyfriend who's still asleep. In silence, both of you agreed to just indoors for the rest of the day instead of going out for a date. A few minutes later and you two agreed to get out of bed for breakfast, opting for a warm cup of coffee that matches the weather. Both of you sat at the dining table quietly, enjoying the cold morning with the rain as a background sound.

Lee Donghyuck

You feel like an idiot, but it's for the sake of your pride. You sat at the bench of the bus stop, eyes staring at the heavy rain. It just happened a few minutes ago and it seems like it's not going to stop anytime. You only let out a sigh, thinking that it was a bad idea that you stormed out after arguing with your boyfriend. You only leaned against the board, waiting for the rain to stop so that you can return back to your place. "You idiot!" you turned to your left and saw Haechan running towards you, holding an umbrella. "Look at you! you're all wet!" he nagged, but you only stared at him, surprised to see that he went after you.

Na Jaemin

When you first met Jaemin, it was something straight out of a movie. It was summer, and you thought that the weather is going to be fine, but it rained all of the sudden. You decided to seek shelter just outside a small convenience store. Coincidentally, Jaemin stepped out from the store, a plastic bag on his left hand and an umbrella on his right. You two stared at each other, surprised. You were familiar with his face, since he's a popular student at your uni. But to your shock, he hands you his umbrella, you stared at it for a second before he grabs your hands and placed it there, "Give it back to me next time." he said and before you could say anything, you saw him ran towards the rain.

Zhong Chenle

"I think we should break up," you will always remember how that day went. It was in a small coffee shop. A busy afternoon that it was bustling with lots of noise; the busy baristas, gossips from friend groups, and the continuous rain from the outside. It was noisy and yet you heard loud and clear what Chenle said to you. You only stared at him, and he felt sorry about his words. "Okay, if that's what you want." you didn't fought back, didn't asked why. The noise was too overwhelming and the weather was too solemn, why add more to it?

Park Jisung

You know how your boyfriend love the stars and the universe, so you decided to have a night picnic with him. You two set out a small picnic just around the Han river, at a field where you two can lay down and stare at the stars. But it seems like tonight's not the night. You two lay there confused, the sky was pitch black and there are no gleaming stars. Then suddenly it rained, making you two stand up and pack your things immediately. Both are almost drenched when you seek shelter. And as you two look at each other, both could only laugh, thinking that this is one of the best dates you two ever had.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct x reader #nct #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct jeno #nct angst #nct mark #nct renjun #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

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reidslovely · 9 months

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taking frat!peter’s favorite hoodie and wearing to your morning lecture and he tears apart his room and the rest of the house trying to look for it (maybe even accuses some of his brothers lmao) and then you come to see him later that day and he’s just like ohh *heart eyes*

while his brothers are just like 🧍🥲 “why isn’t she getting shit for this?”

and he’s just like “she’s my girl” then tells you don’t have to ask but to let him know whenever you take a sweater so he knows it’s gone and he didn’t lose

PLUS he’s loves it cause he can smell your perfume linger on his clothes 🥰

stop because i've thought of similar ideas for pete/bashful and have been dying to talk about it.

you didn't even plan on taking the hoodie. you'd had your clothes for lecture laid out that night, but you did not anticipate on it raining at all!! like where did that even come from?? so you get your shorts or and your t-shirt but you need something with a hood. the dark blue hoodie is hung nicely on the back of pete's computer chair and you throw it on in a rush not thinking he'd care. besides it smells like him!!

yet peter misses his one lecture of the day tearing his room apart looking for this hoodie. he's torn his room apart I mean clothes from the closet strung onto the bed and floor, his dresser drawers thrown open and the clothes hanging out of it. its gone. he's convinced himself that he left it on the campus bus and it's gone forever. then he remembers.

"where is it nate?"

nate tilted his head like a dog. shrugging

"my blue nike hoodie. where is it? you've got the red one just like it you're always trying to take my blue one."

"it was one time and it got mixed up with mine. I don't know Harry did laundry last night ask him.

Harry was a bust and so was Miles. After Miles he interrogated every other dude in the house no one had seen the hoodie.

"hey boys!" your voice carried through the doors of the house. "has anyone seen pet..Pete!" you smiled so big at him, arms out wide. then he saw it. the blue hoodie snug around you, slightly damp from the rain.

"I borrowed your hoodie this morning I hope that was okay. it was so cold and rainy."

"it is totally fine. just ask okay, next time baby? it's my lucky hoodie."

your face drops and you go to take it off. "I'm sorry you can have it back."

"no no keep it on for a little bit longer." he says walking towards you, hands rubbing your shoulders. "get it to smell like you then give it back okay?" he smiles wrapping you in a hug kissing you. both of you giggling into the kiss.

harry, miles, and nate all stand on the staircase. "he literally threatened to kill me 20 minutes ago over this." harry says. "why is It okay for her huh?"

"cause she's my girl. look at how cute she looks in it! you don't look cute in my clothes Harry." Peter teases walking up the steps behind you, smiling at his friends.

#frat!peter #frat peter blurb #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter x reader #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter smut #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm! peter parker smut #tasm! peter parker fluff

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papercorgiworld · 3 months

Text

Summer vibes and slytherins

Tom II, Mattheo, Blaise and Enzo

Spending the day at the beach with your boyfriend, based on this request. Short, but extremely fluffy. Warning, this isn’t just fluffy… it’s cheesy.

I’m not a crazy summer vibe person, but I do like a beach day, so I did my best. Sorry it’s so short but I hope you like it, dear anon. Also, me writing something called summer vibes while drinking homemade soup from my Christmas mug on a rainy day with my marauders blanky wrapped around me just felt like a crime. But it was fun!!! So here it goes, happy readings!

You were spending your summer in the muggle world. The place where you were staying and weather were beyond perfect, but it doesn’t feel right without your boyfriend. Early in the morning you write a letter, telling him that you miss him and asking him to join for a day or two. While you wait for a reply you decide to head to the beach, but instead of answering your letter he decides to surprise you.

Tom II

You smile as you spot an overdressed Tom walking your way. It can’t be? Really? A bright smile makes its way onto your lips and Tom looks at you questioningly. “I didn’t expect you to come.” You explain with amusement. “Why not?” He asks dryly as he tries to keep himself from staring at your perfect figure. “Because you’re… you.” You answer with a sweet smile as you wrap your arms around his neck. He knew exactly what you meant by that and huffed softly. “Yes, but I’m your boyfriend, so I might not like this.. summer, beaches, fun… but I’m here for you.” Your smile grows wider as you meet his eyes. “Kiss me.” You say, barely containing your excitement that he’s here for you. “More demands.” Tom jokes, before leaning in to kiss you tenderly.

”You want to join me surfing?” You ask, pointing towards the water and Tom watches the water with a weird half smile, before turning to you. “Okay, here I’m drawing a line. How about I’m in charge of ice cream and you go do the water thing you do.” You pout for a moment, but you know not to push it and peck his lips. “Fine, but will you watch me?” Tom nods happily. “Sure, that’s like my favorite thing to do.” You feel yourself get all giddy and go stand on your tippy toes to peck his lips on last time before heading into the water. With loving eyes Tom watches you, fighting the urge to curse every muggle that looks your way.

When you get out of the water Tom is holding your favourite ice cream and adoring you as you happily skip over to him. A view, a feeling, a moment to hold onto forever. “You used a spell to keep this cold for me didn’t you?” You say as you take the freezing cold ice cream. He nods. “You’re my girlfriend, no half melted ice cream for you, only the best for you.” You look up at him with starry eyes, before eying the book he was holding in his hand. “Shall we settle somewhere and enjoy the sun?” He reaches for your hand and you both walk in search of a secluded spot to relax.

Mattheo

You came running out of the water with a bright happy smile on your face when you recognised your boyfriend. Hands tugged in the pockets of his shorts and dark sunglasses following your figure, curly hair messier than ever due to the wind, no mistaking him. “You came?” You place a hand on his chest as you lean in for a summer kiss. “As soon as I got your owl.” He says with a cheeky smile and leans in for another kiss. “I missed you.” You whisper, lips still close to his. “Yeah, I got that from your letter.” Mattheo chuckles and you drop your head in embarrassment. “But I’m here, princess. So what do you want to do?” Your eyes wander the beach as you think. “Let’s go surf!” You suddenly suggest and enthousically tug Mattheo a few steps in the direction of the water.

”I’m not a surfing kinda guy.” Mattheo jokes, stopping you and wrapping his arms around you. He pulls your beautiful body against his bare chest and you giggle as he pulls you closer. “You’re just afraid you’ll embarrass yourself.” Mattheo catches your lips with his to shut you up. “I know how to surf, don’t underestimate your own boyfriend.” You laugh, not believing him, but enjoying the little argument. “Have you ever surfed before?” You ask between giggles and he playfully narrows his eyes at you. “No, but I know how to.” You frown at his words. “I’ll prove it to you, little lady.” He says before guiding you both in the direction of the water.

Once out of the water you walked to your boyfriend while shaking your head. “You cheated! You used magic!” Mattheo shrugs. “How is using magic cheating?” You cross your arms and Mattheo closes the distance between you two so he’s towering over you. “Muggles are just primitive in their way of surfing.” You groan at his silly argument, but before you can object to Mattheo’s ridiculousness he wraps his arms back around you and captures your lips for an intensely passionate kiss. “You’re just jealous of my excellent surfing skills.” Mattheo can’t resist teasing before again locking his lips with yours, kissing you so tenderly that you’ll surely keep quiet for a while.

Blaise

You watch the waves when you suddenly yelp as you feel two arms wrap around you. Blaise laughs loudly at the sound you make and you turn around cursing him, but can’t manage for long as you quickly start smiling, adoring your boyfriend. “You’re here.” You whisper and he stops laughing. A soft smile appears on his lips as he wraps his arm around you pulling you against his chest. “Of course, you don’t think I was missing you?” You look up at your boyfriend with shiny eyes. “You missed me?” He laughs and shakes his head at your silly question. “Are you seriously asking me that? Obviously your brains have been cooked by the sun. Let’s get that silly head of yours cooled down in the water.

A goofy, innocent smile tugs on your lips as you realize how ridiculous your question was. You spot someone surfing in the distance and jump as an idea comes to you. Blaise looks up, a little startled by your sudden excitement and you grab his hand. “Let’s go surf?” Blaise laughs, before realizing that you’re serious. “Wizards don’t surf.” He states dryly and you drop your shoulders, frowning at his bizarre statement. “What? Why wouldn’t wizards surf? It’s fun.” Blaise lets his head fall to the side and wants to protest, but you interrupt him. “How about I teach you the basics.” You say as you seductively move towards him in an attempt to convince your boyfriend to join you surfing.

After watching him fail again and again you can’t keep a straight face anymore and he’s getting slightly frustrated, but he doesn’t quit. You watch him struggle and eventually somewhat master the skill of surfing. Exhausted, you both walk along the beach, feet sinking in the sand and his hand tightly wrapped around yours. While he watches the waves you watch him with admiration, when he notices he raises an eyebrow and you smile looking down. “I’m just impressed.” Blaise chuckles and tugs your hand, pulling you closer so he can sling his arm over shoulder. “I’m a quick study and you were an excellent teacher, except for the laughing. It’s not okay to laugh at someone who’s learning a new skill.” You let your head rest against his chest as you smile. “Sorry about that. How about I make it up with some ice cream.” He looks down at you and squeezes your arm. “Now we’re talking.” He whispers and places a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

Lorenzo

You frowned as you recognised your boyfriend in the distance. Is that my Enzo? Enzo owned the summer vibe, that perfect summer tan combined with his smile and beach outfit. You noticed girls chatting him up as he waited to get ice cream. You purse your lips and cross your arms as you watch him. When he finally turns around he spots you staring at him. He curses himself, now that his attempt to surprise you had failed. With ice cream in both hands he walks up to you and leans in for a passionate kiss. “Surprise!” He quips and you laugh, before kissing him again with even more passion. “All this because I got you ice cream?” Lorenzo jokes referring to your intense kiss as he hands you the cold snack. You nod as your tongue catches some melting drops and he laughs. “The ice cream and maybe because I you missed a little… and I need those chatty girls to know you’re mine.” Enzo wiggles his eyebrows. “I can’t believe you spotted me. I wanted to surprise you.” He pouts a little and you chuckle. “So what’s up next, sunbathing? I can help you with the sunblock.” You giggle, but you knew Enzo probably wanted to do something a little more active than sunbathing. “Surfing?” You ask, still focused on your ice cream, but then you look up at your boyfriend. “Can you even surf?” You ask, baffled by the fact that you didn’t know despite dating him for this long.

“Of course I can surf! There isn’t a fun thing in the world that I haven’t mastered yet.” His smile is filled with summer enthusiasm. He holds your hand as you guide him to get a surfboard, shamelessly adoring your figure. When Enzo makes his way to the water you immediately notice his surfing skills are on the rusty side, but he manages to keep up with you for quite a while. In an attempt to do some tricks to impress you the waves beat him and you hurry your way to your boyfriend. However, you can’t help but slow down to admire his build and messy wet hair as he resurfaces. With a toothy grin he welcomes you into his arms. “I did that on purpose.” You laugh and kiss him.

“Maybe a bit more sunbathing?” You tease and he narrows his eyes at you before kissing you. “How about you become my personal surfing instructor and I’ll be a very good student.” Your boyfriend’s hands move over your sides, over your hips and rest on your ass as he carefully studies your face, waiting for an answer. You look up to him through your lashes. “I sense a hidden agenda.” Enzo’s hand caresses your cheek. ‘Maybe? Or maybe I’m just very eager to learn all the right moves…”

#slytherin #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire x reader #blaise zabini imagine #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #blaise zabini x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #tom ii riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #papercorgiworldwritings

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