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violetrainbow412-blog · 9 months

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Birthday wishes [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: everyone seems to forget Spencer's 30th birthday, but he only cares that you remember it.

second part here!

contents: childhood best friends, idiots who-don't-know-they're-in-love, surprise parties, pure fluff honestly

If you like my work leave a comment or reblog, that would make me very happy!

The first thing Spencer did when he got home was get rid of his converse and even though it had been a relatively calm day he was exhausted, so he went straight to the bedroom to throw himself on the bed. He lay back for a while, just enjoying the calm, and then he fumbled for the cell phone in his briefcase. He hit the call button on the contact he'd wanted to talk to all day and then he waited patiently.

“L/N family residence, who do you want me to contact you with?”

"Hello, is Miss Y/N by any chance?"

"Who's looking for her?" you continued and a smile escaped from his lips. It was usual for you to respond in a silly way when he called you, so he was used to it by now.

"Her best friend, Dr. Spencer Reid"

“Spencer Reid? Spencer Reid, I don't think that sounds familiar…” you teased, hearing him snort from the other end of the line “Ah! Wait, I remember you."

“After knowing each other for like 20 years, I hope so” he laughed, and then you too.

Sure enough, the man and you were friends from a very early age. You were his neighbor when he lived in Las Vegas and your parents had always been quite nice to the family, knowing the delicate situation they faced, so it wasn’t difficult for you to become friends. You were the first friend he ever had, a real one, so there was a special fondness between you, even when he had gone off to college at such a young age and distance had subsequently separated the two of you.

You always called each other and every time he visited his mother it was a law that you also received a visit, even if the time was only enough for you to greet each other with a hug. You also traveled to DC a few times because of your work and you even had your own key to his apartment, so if he was busy with a case, you could stay there instead of paying for a hotel. Your relationship was like that of a brother and sister, although as this familiarity grew, it was slightly intervened by loving feelings that you didn’t want to face yet but were definitely there.

You knew a lot about his life from those long-distance calls that happened at least once a week, and right now he was excited about something in particular. He was exactly one week away from his thirty-year birthday, and he hoped that, like every year, you would fly from Las Vegas to see him. It was a tradition, whether it was thunder or lightning, you two hadn't missed a single birthday from the other since he had to move out of state. So Spencer was hoping that this call was for you guys to plan what you were going to do; regularly your birthdays were in restaurants or nice places and his were at home, with food delivery and classic movies, or when you felt very adventurous you could go to a museum or just walk through the streets.

"How are you, Reid? How is everything?"

"Not so good, but not so bad either" he laughed "And you?"

"Everything has been terrible, it's like a curse is on my head, I swear" you complained. Spencer got up from his comfortable position to sit on the bed and although he knew that most of the time you said things like that you were just exaggerating, this time he had a bad feeling.

"Why?”

You started to tell him about the financial problems you were going through and he, with his mind still focused on your visit, thought about offering to pay for your flight to DC, but his spirits fell completely when you told him that you were being put under too much pressure at work.

“We're going to have a meeting next Friday with HR to discuss responsibilities and so on, but honestly I don't think things will get better. Right now I'm working from home because there are pending issues that have to be resolved as soon as possible and I barely have time to think during the day, you seriously can't imagine how busy I've been.”

When you finished the story, he remained silent, feeling his chest squeezed by the direction that things were now taking. With that scenario, your visit was too complicated and he was debating internally about whether he should tell you something about it or not. As he had thought before, the money to have you with him wasn’t a problem, but dealing with the issue of your shortened times was totally different. He didn't want to make you feel guilty for not being able to go, let alone disrupt activities that he knew were important to you, like that meeting you just mentioned. So what should he do? He wanted you to be there, but he wasn't going to make you.

“Crash? You still there?" you asked. Only you and his mother called him that, since his nickname had arisen when he was just a child due to his clumsiness, a trait that, in your opinion, he still retained. It wasn't offensive coming from you, even he was glad to know that this was something that belonged to the two women he loved the most.

"Yes, I'm here. I just was thinking"

"You always do, I don't think there's a single second when that mind of yours rests," you said amused "Anyway, what's new?"

Spencer hoped that you would at least apologize to him for your future absence or ask him what he intended to do today. But you seemed not even aware of it.

“Nothing, really. Today we're done with a case and if I'm lucky I'll be able to rest this weekend” he murmured. Sometimes he would tell you things about the cases, omitting bloody and dangerous details, so he leaned back and started recounting all the events into the speaker of his phone.

You two continued to talk for almost an hour, but the topic of the birthday didn't come up once and Spencer didn't try to bring it up. After all, there were still a few days to go and in the worst case, you could at least call him that day to congratulate him, right?

But as the days went by, the anxiety ate him more and he even called you a few days after that, but he only received a response from your mailbox and after a few minutes a short text message where you explained that you were a little busy with work, but that you would call him as soon as you could. The fact that during those days he found out that the entire team already had something to do on Friday didn’t help his mood too much.

Hotch and JJ discussed a sleepover for Henry and Jack after work, he overheard Garcia and Morgan agreeing to visit a new bar for the night, Rossi said he was going to visit one of his ex-wives and when he thought he could still invite Emily to hang out, she went over to talk to him about the therapist appointment that she clearly didn't want to go to, but had to. There was no remedy, everyone had plans for his birthday and he didn’t want to interfere with them. Resignation was the only thing the doctor had left during the remaining days, and when he least expected it, the entire week had already passed.

He used to wake up to your off-key version of the birthday song and a cupcake with a candle stuck in it, then you'd make breakfast and you'd eat it together; so not having any of that when he got out of bed, he felt his heart break a little. This year he thought he would get your call first thing in the morning, but when he checked his phone he didn't even find a message announcing that there was a case. He didn't want to go to the office to do paperwork on his birthday, but the thought of at least getting a hug from his coworkers cheered him up slightly.

He put on his favorite shirt, a new pair of pants, and the converse that you had given him and he only wore on special occasions, before leaving the apartment. For some reason Spencer enjoyed taking the subway, perhaps more than anyone he knew, and this time he stopped at a coffee shop that was just before arriving to buy something to drink, since he didn't feel like eating anything.

He undertook the entire trip lost in his thoughts and when he least expected it, he was already at the headquarters. He checked his phone, again, but he still didn't get any notifications or missed calls. Many times you had insisted that he get a more modern model and he had refused, but now he was wondering if the advances in technology would have allowed him to communicate with you through a video call. It would be embarrassing to ask Garcia for a favor, so he concluded that he would just wait, after all if he hadn't communicated it must have been for something important.

Upon entering, he greeted everyone with a huge smile and he felt somewhat disconcerted when the others greeted him normally, without hugs or cake on the table. He sat down at his desk to start going through the documents he already had and the others continued on their own business. It was common for Emily or Morgan to come up to him for a chat, but on this particular day it was as if they were avoiding him. Even Penelope, who he swore would congratulate him, seemed to have completely forgotten when he came to her place with the excuse of needing a piece of information from the previous case. When Hotch called him to his office, the man's eyes lit up, believing that his boss had remembered the celebration of the date.

"Can you do me a favor?" he had asked, without taking his eyes off whatever he was writing "Donovan needs to sort some files and honestly he has no idea how to do it and I'm too busy to explain, could you do it?"

Donovan was in charge of the physical file inside the building and it was not usual for him to request this kind of support, but Reid still said yes, and the rest of the day passed with him locked in a cellar full of filing cabinets. He had made sure to take his phone with him and every time he turned it on to check it and he realized that there was no sign of you his disappointment increased. He came to wonder if his mind hadn't been playing tricks on him and, for some incredible reason, he had gotten the day wrong and it wasn't really October 12; but when he saw the calendar, he verified that this wasn’t possible.

“Are you out of punishment yet?” Emily taunted, when after many hours she saw him again by the bullpen. At another time Spencer would have laughed, but right now his mood wasn't quite right for it and he just looked at her, more hostile than he intended. “Hotch left you some documents on your desk, he asked if you could review them before you go. It's urgent,” she informed him.

It was obvious that this would take time and he felt like crying at the thought of having to stay longer than the regular time. It was almost an hour after everyone else had gone home that he finished, feeling somewhat annoyed to find out that even Aaron had already left.

He doubted whether to go home or go to dinner somewhere, because he knew that if he returned to the apartment he would sink into sadness. His birthdays didn't mean anything special on their own, what he liked was to feel loved, to enjoy the company, but above all to see you.

While he was leaving the building, and as if you were reading his mind, a call vibrated on his cell phone. Seeing that it was you, Spencer didn't take more than two seconds to answer, thinking that maybe after the whole day he could improve.

"You won't believe what happened to me!" you said, without even greeting him. It wasn't the kind of sentence he was expecting, but he still decided to listen.

"What happened?"

“There is a boy, at my work, his name is Brandon. Well, Brandon and I have talked a few times now and he seems like a nice person, plus he's pretty handsome and he finally asked me out on a date with him, can you believe it?" you murmured excitedly, and a lump formed in Spencer's throat "We're going out today, the meeting was canceled and we decided to take advantage of the time, but I can't decide whether to wear the red dress or the black and gold outfit that my mom gave me and I need the help of an expert. You have seen both, which one do you think suits me better?

Spencer was quiet for a moment, processing the situation she was going through, and it wasn't until you said his name that he reacted.

"I like your red dress," he murmured, with a sad smile that you clearly couldn't see. He couldn't believe you were going out with a man you'd never mentioned and it affected him more than he expected you to be asking for advice because a pang of jealousy shot through his chest.

You were telling him that you were going to have a date on his birthday.

“I thought the same! I guess that will be the best option."

"I guess…"

"Where are you now? At home?" you kindly asked. Your tone almost made him angry.

“I just got off work. I'm on my way to take the subway"

"Oh, excellent. Today there were no cases?"

"Not fortunately. I'm glad to know that the criminals at least respected my birthday."

With that said, there was a deathly silence between you, to the point where he wondered if you were still on the other end of the line or if you understood what he was implying.

“Spencer, my God, I…”

"It's okay if you forgot," he said, trying to play the matter down, but the tears that were beginning to accumulate in his eyes indicated otherwise. The guilty tone with which you had spoken was more than enough to know that, probably, if he hadn’t mentioned it, you wouldn’t have done it either "Nobody remembered it"

"I'm so sorry" you practically sobbed "Between all the work and stuff I... I don't even know why I forgot, forgive me”

"It’s okay" he replied. But it wasn't okay.

“Can I do something to fix it? Whatever, you just… ask me what you want and I'll do it. I swear," you mumbled, sounding desperate.

He tried to convince you that there was no problem with it and you continued to pour out apologies, which Spencer knew were worthless now but he wasn't selfish enough to ignore them. He wanted to scream, cry, or do anything to get that weight off his chest and even though he loved the sound of your voice right now it was the last thing he needed.

“Anyway, I'm about to enter the subway and uh, I have almost no signal there. I'll call you later, okay?" the question didn’t wait for an answer, because he immediately added: "Good luck on your date, bye"

If he had considered going out to celebrate, he knew that now what he urgently needed was to go home or he would break down in tears in the middle of the street. The ride on the subway lasted longer than he would have liked, as he longed to go to sleep and find out if it would allow him to forget a bit about the shitty day he had just had. When he was finally in front of the door with the number 23 in gold letters, he struggled enormously to put the key into the lock, because the tears in his eyes were already clouding his vision, and he believed that the heaviness on his shoulders wouldn’t allow him to advance.

The key turned one turn, then another, and then Spencer was allowed inside the house.

One week before…

The team was meeting in the conference room at the request of Penelope, who had asked everyone to stay after the scheduled time, waiting to receive the news of what they thought would surely be a new case.

"And Reid?" Morgan asked, noticing the empty chair next to him, because they had seen him leave and that was reason enough to have questions about his absence.

"I'm glad you asked because this meeting is related to him," Garcia replied. With the push of a button, a face appeared on the main screen and almost everyone present was surprised to see who it was "She is Y/N Y/L/N, do you remember her?"

"You were at Prentiss's funeral, right?"

"That's right" you replied with a smile, looking directly at the aforementioned "I still have a little trouble understanding, uh... that whole thing, to be honest" you joked.

"Y/N asked us for this space to discuss something related to Spencer's birthday, which will be next Friday" explained Hotch, who was the other member who was already aware of the matter "The microphone is all yours"

"Okay, so where do I start? It's great to see all of you and I hope you're doing well. Every year I visit Spencer on his birthday and we spend the day together, but since this year is his 30th birthday I wanted to do something special and I want to know if you would be willing to help me”

"Tell us your plan, precious"

“I don't intend to take up a lot of your time, it's simple. I will call him today to insinuate that this year I can’t go and all I want you to do is pretend that day that you don’t remember that it’s his birthday”

"Wait, why do you want us to ignore it?" JJ muttered with a frown.

"I want to throw him a surprise party in his apartment" you explained with a smile and then the request you were making to them didn't sound so farfetched "You can tell him you have plans that day and if he mentions something you just say you can't go. I bought my flight for that day and I will be in the city starting in the morning, so I can prepare everything”

"And how will we do if he invites us somewhere?"

Morgan suggested using a decoy for him and pretending they were taking him somewhere else, but you balked at the idea.

“I have all my hopes that he doesn’t mention anything. If so, we'll manage somehow. And I know that asking for that is difficult because we are all his friends, but if necessary, avoid him completely that day. We need him to know under no circumstances that we have a surprise for him."

“He is very smart and he will figure it out. If we make him believe that we forgot he will concentrate on that” you argued. Although the others didn't want to admit it, they knew that you had a point there "I just hope you don't have some unforeseen case or something like that, because I would hate for that lie to be for nothing"

You discussed some more until you concluded that your plan was the most viable. The girls would help you with ideas for decorations and David even offered to buy all the drinks. Although the others weren’t surprised by his generosity, you were slightly upset, but this didn’t prevent you from accepting the offer and thanking him in advance.

“It really means a lot to me that you guys help me, thanks” you murmured happily, once everything was settled, and then your phone started ringing in the background “It's Spencer! I have to answer him. If something happens, you guys will tell me, right?"

"Take it for granted" smiled Garcia, who was the one who had lived with you the most, but everyone supported her from the bottom.

"Fine, thanks everyone, thanks Agent Hotch, I'll see you later!" you said goodbye, hanging up the video call and simultaneously answering the phone.

Everyone got up from the conference room and Rossi was the first to speak, a smile on his face.

"Call me crazy..." he started to say "but something tells me that girl and Spencer are going to end up together"

"The pretty boy loves her, but he still doesn't notice it," Morgan laughed, as they all walked out. "Whenever we go to Vegas, his eyes shine when he sees her."

“And she's setting this up for him! It's so sweet" Penelope sighed, who had already taken Derek's arm "But the part about being mean to Spencer doesn't convince me much… he's going to be so sad"

"Look at it this way, babygirl: if he's sad he'll be happier than usual with the surprise."

"Nobody's going to screw it up," Emily threatened them, pointing her index finger at them, and the rest of the team promised they wouldn't.

Meanwhile, your first part of the plan was in the works, with the late-night call he had made to you. You had to admit that lying to your best friend was something you hated, but with any luck it would all be worth it when you could hug him and give him that gift that you had carefully kept on one of the shelves, that you hoped could be enough for such an important event like the first thirty years of life.

What happened during the week is history, which was consolidated at the moment he turned the handle without even imagining what awaited him.

When Spencer walked through the door the first thing he did was turn on the light and he felt like he was going to have a heart attack when he heard the screams coming from inside. There were purple balloons scattered all over the floor, a congratulations banner, a table full of presents, and everyone was there.

The shock was such that he couldn't even manage to say a word and some of the tears that he had been holding back were finally able to come out, but this time for different reasons.

They hadn’t forgotten.

"How…? What are you doing here?"

“We came to celebrate your birthday, genius,” Morgan laughed, as he reached over to hug his friend and ruffled his hair brotherly.

A wave of hugs preceded that and even he received a couple of kisses on each cheek from Rossi, which finally made him laugh. He seemed like a child, completely fascinated with everything around him and still processing the situation.

In the midst of it all, he couldn't help wondering how his friends had been able to enter the apartment, since none of them had a copy of the key and the landlady was too suspicious to have let them in just like that, but he felt happy for the direction the day had taken.

“First of all, we have another surprise for you,” said JJ, obviously excited. The rest shared complicit glances and García began to record with his cell phone, which made him a little nervous "But you have to close your eyes."

Spencer looked at everyone else as if waiting for a confirmation of that, and seeing a couple of nods he did what his friend was asking. Just to make sure Jennifer covered his eyelids with her hands and in this way she turned him around, while he wondered what this surprise could be about.

"Are you ready?" she asked and the man answered yes with a hum. There was silence for a second, as if they were checking something, and then she withdrew her hand. "Open them."

Many possibilities went through the man's mind for whatever he would see at that moment, but when he did, he felt his heart stop for a moment. There you were, looking at him with a sweet smile and wearing that red dress.

The rest of those present were waiting for who would make the first move, because the two of you had froze looking at each other, and García was only pointing the camera carefully as you had requested.

"Surprise?" you said shyly, noticing that Spencer hadn't said anything.

You were afraid that after the call you had he was upset with you in some way, but a second after he recovered from the shock he was already on top of you, holding you by the waist to spin you through the air while you laughed heartily.

"You came," he said, his voice cracking, but completely brimming with happiness.

"Of course I would, Spencer, do you think I'd miss your birthday?"

"But you... your work"

"All a vile lie"

"And that boy?"

“There was never such a thing,” you laughed, freeing yourself from the weight of guilt “You're my only boy,” you added affectionately, palms planted squarely on your friend's cheeks. He still had you in his arms and was grinning from ear to ear at your answers "I'm so sorry I told you all that, I just didn't want you to suspect anything, can you forgive me?"

"No!" he practically squealed and you widened your eyes in amazement “Today was the most terrible day because I thought you didn't care about me anymore, you made me suffer! All of you!" your friend complained, looking away from you briefly to look at those present.

"In our defense, she asked us to," Emily laughed, holding up both hands in surrender.

"You're so mean," he murmured, turning his attention back to you. "But I love you so much.”

A group sigh filled the room as he engulfed you in a hug and from your position you could see the teasing or tender smiles they all had. It wasn't very common to see the youngest of the team in that position, much less saying those things, plus we had to add the collective opinion that you were madly in love.

"Seriously, forgive me"

"It’s okay…" he whispered close to your ear "You're here, that's what matters"

His body felt so soft and safe that you didn't want to stop hugging him, but you knew that if you took too long it would create an uncomfortable environment for the rest, so you had no choice but to gently pull him away from you. The woman asked your friend, just to annoy him, if he liked his surprise and although he didn't say anything, the giant smile and flushed cheeks were enough of an answer.

"Come, you won't escape my melodious voice" you murmured after a few seconds, when the commotion calmed down a bit.

Taking him by the hand, you led him to the table where you had the chocolate cake with a couple of candles that formed the number 30. Everyone sang the song while the wick burned down and the boy looked anywhere, with that certain shyness characteristic of him. When he blew out the candle to make his wish, you all applauded and that started the celebration.

There were some appetizers on the table and Rossi had stocked all the drinks quite well, as he had promised. As the minutes passed you hovered here and there to check that things were in order, arranging everything as if it were your own apartment, and Spencer could only smile at how well you seemed to get along with everyone. The last time you'd seen the team was, sure enough, during Emily's funeral, but that didn't mean there wasn't some history between you.

He still remembered the feeling of shame when in the early years he had asked Gideon for permission to summon someone to the hotel during a case in Las Vegas. It wasn't that he was ashamed of you, but that he was ashamed of having to reveal something so important in his life to his FBI colleagues. The agent didn't object at all, but that didn't spare the man from being grilled by Derek and Elle about which mysterious lady their younger coworker was talking to. Over the years, people left the unit, and others joined, but the constant was always you. Even now, if a replacement happened, Spencer knew that the rest of the team would take it upon themselves to introduce you to said person.

At some point he felt a tremendous nostalgia for that time and in a chain of thoughts he came to ask himself if working where he did was the right thing to do. Turning thirty was cause for celebration, but for him it was also tantamount to thinking how well he had lived up to the expectations of what he expected to have achieved at this age: How much progress should he have made in the world by now? Was it any use having that brilliant mind that everyone raved about if he was working in a government office? And what about his personal life? He wanted to get married at some point and wondered if he should be looking for love instead of criminals. Even while he was through all this, he wished he could focus on how happy his friends had made him instead of worrying about other things.

"Up to here I can see the gears of your brain" laughed someone next to him. It was Emily "What's wrong?"

"Nothing" he murmured, shaking his head softly "I was thinking about some things, it's just that"

"You should drink some more, that wine that Dave brought tastes delicious" she smiled, inviting him to come closer to the others to chat.

It was a bit ironic, but completely understandable, that even at his own birthday party he would remain a bit oblivious to the situation. Following Emily's advice, he poured himself another drink and joined the other attendees to enjoy the moment. For hours you laughed and chatted, until the drinks were running out and your drunkenness rising.

The parents of the group were the first to leave and the last was a drunk Penelope who threatened to stay there to sleep, but Derek took it upon himself to guide her to his car to take her home. It was late at night when only you and Spencer were left, amidst all the decorations in the room.

"Peace and tranquility"

"It was too much?" you laughed, knowing that your friend could become overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle.

"No, no. Just kidding"

“And was it okay for you? You had fun?" you asked, referring to the party, as the two of you sat down on the leather couch. The dress you were wearing rose to the top of your thighs and his attention strayed there for a second, so he looked up guiltily; He didn't help the blush on his cheeks that there was your cleavage.

"Everything was wonderful"

"Are you seriously not mad at me?" you insisted

"No, honey, I'm not," he laughed. You tried to ignore the fact that he had said that to you, since it wasn't something he was used to, and just smiled sheepishly, "I mean, at first I was a little, but now that I understand why you did it, I'm not anymore."

“You are already thirty… you are so old!”

"You are older than me!" he squealed, completely offended, and you responded with a laugh. Although that was true, you looked more jovial than the man, something that a variety of people had taken it upon themselves to verify.

"Now that I remember, do you want to see your gift?"

"Isn't this supposed to be my gift?" The confusion was evident in his voice and you refrained from answering, as you bolted into the room. You came back from there with a box in your hands, which you later placed on your lap with evident emotion.

“I wrapped it myself” you confessed, rather proud of yourself. You had found a piece of paper to cover with drawings of equations and small microscopes that you thought captured the essence of your friend and, of course, now that he had seen it, he had liked it a lot.

The man's fingers drummed the surface under your expectant gaze, and then he winced slightly.

"What's up?"

"I don't know, I think maybe I should open it later…"

"Spencer Reid!" you yelled. It was obvious that he was only joking with you and you knew that by the laugh that escaped his lips.

Your friend opened the box almost ceremonially and then removed the tissue paper that covered the contents: above all there were two hardcover books, one about the world of fungi and the other about poetry, next to it an hourglass, then three boxes with jigsaw puzzles, a pocket chess game, packets of Reid's favorite sweets, and last but not least, a picture of the two of you in a pretty chocolate-colored frame and a little paper envelope to go with it. One by one he was taking out the gifts and his smile only grew with each object, while he felt his heart grow with love.

"I remember this day" he murmured, referring to the photograph you had chosen. The sky was blue behind you and you were kissing Spencer's cheek, who was smiling at how spontaneous it had been “We were in a park after going to an art exhibition."

“And we bought the most delicious ice cream in the world”

"I differ, I've had better," he murmured, shrugging. The truth is that you thought that the ice cream had been delicious because of the whole panorama of that day, not so much because of the taste itself.

Spencer knew that photo would have to go on his desk in the bullpen, although the taunts he was sure the others would throw at him. Perhaps having you there would serve as a reminder that there was good in the world, despite everything he could see on the job every day.

“Oh, and I read somewhere that hourglasses help people with anxiety because it's relaxing to watch the sand fall so they can focus on it. I thought you might like it, I bought it at an antique store."

"It's very nice" he agreed, turning the object over and checking that it actually worked "I'll open the note, okay?"

Spencer always preferred that you read his letters in private because if he saw your face and knew you were reading those words he would just cringe, but you didn't seem to share that trait so you agreed to his request. As with the box, he carefully opened the envelope and then pulled out a handwritten note.

I hope you like these little gifts that try to express a huge love.

Never doubt that you are making a change in the world and that you are surrounded by people who love you, including your old neighbor who now ironically lives too far from you.

Happy 30th birthday to my favorite person in the entire world. I am confident that many more years will come for both of us.

Always yours, Y/N.

"Don't cry, Reid" you asked gently, feeling your own tears at the edge of your eyes. Spencer smiled and leaned in your direction to wrap you in a hug so hopefully you wouldn't notice if he got emotional.

"Thank you" was the only thing he managed to say.

He wanted to thank you not only for that day but for years of friendship, years of feeling like he wasn't so alone in the world if he had you by his side and even thank you for treating him like a normal kid when no one else did. And as always, you perfectly understood what he was referring to.

You stayed like that for a few minutes; Spencer tucked into the crook of your neck and cooing at the throbbing on your pulse line, and you basking in the warmth of the contact.

“Did you like the puzzles?”

"Yeah! They are great” he replied, as he moved away from you so that he could observe you “Do you want us to put one together?”

“Sure” you smiled “Just let me put on my pajamas and I'll be right back, okay?”

"Good. You look very beautiful in that dress, by the way. I don't know if I forgot to tell you” he flattered you, making you smile sincerely.

"You chose it, remember?"

Before getting up you kindly squeezed his cheek and after changing your clothes you returned to where you were. He had chosen the puzzle with the design of a Monet painting and spread it out on the floor, where the two of you settled comfortably.

Your friend took a bunch of pieces and you took another and you guys worked in silence until little by little things started to come together. He was very good at the task and very soon he already had a considerable part assembled; although you were going a little slower you followed a constant rhythm.

"Hey, Spencer"

"Yeah?" he asked, too intent on finding a place for the piece in his fingers to watch you.

“What was your birthday wish? When blowing out the candles”

"Oh, I didn't wish for anything"

"Why?" you asked confused.

Spencer looked up from the puzzle and smiled at you.

"Because my birthday wish was already right here"

It seemed obvious to him, but it took you a second to understand exactly what he meant and when you finally did, your eyes gave him the sweetest look of all.

You and your friend stayed up all night until the play was over and after that you both stumbled to bed, where you fell fast asleep in each other's arms.

At some point Spencer half-opened his eyes, prisoner of a bad dream, and when he was aware of the situation he felt the peace he needed. After that it didn't take him long to get back to sleep, with a smile on his face and his whole world held in his arms.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you

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call-sign-shark · 11 months

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After the Storm, the Sun || Tommy Shelby x Reader

➢ Prompt "Don't you Dare" requested by @runnning-outof-time

Words: 1K (no proofreading)

If there was one thing you had never seen since your wedding with the infamous Thomas Shelby it was his smile. As both his wife and new secretary, you knew every feature of his face and how they contorted at his emotions’ discretion. Slightly, almost imperceptible. But day after day you ultimately learned how to read through the lines and catch those glimpses of faint emotions. For instance, you could tell he was mad by the way his sky blue eyes became blank and his brows slightly furrowed. That was when you knew someone had cross the line.

When it came to sadness, the change in his traits was even more subtile but nonetheless heartbreaking for observant eyes. He would avoid looking at you, rather focusing his attention on paperwork or something else as if a sole glance at your iris could break the fortress he had spent years building around his heart. All of these held no secret anymore for you — But regarding joy, you could not tell.

You started to wonder if Thomas was even able to feel happiness, or if the war, responsibilities and Grace’s death had definitely faded colors away from his life and turned it into a dull black and white movie whose ending would be definitely woeful.

Sometimes you would caught sight of a light, almost imperceptible smirk at the sharp edge of his lips — especially when Arthur would stumble on his own feet. It also happened that one time John almost choked with his toothpick after laughing too much at Finn’s clumsiness. But these short moments of innocence usually disappeared as quickly as they had appeared as if they had never really existed. Thomas’ genuine smile was a mirage and you, the thirsty and exhausted wanderer lost in the desert of his heart. At first his lack of positive emotions was mere detail, an interrogation born out of curiosity. Yet, the idea of making him smile soon became a bit too obsessive to admit. That was how you came to the decision to do everything in your power to snatch a sincere smirk off your morose husband — a silly mission John, Arthur and his young wife Heaven agreed to join in.

He did not smile when John stole clothes from Polly and made his best imitation of their Aunt, even though it was hilarious when he fell on the floor because he did not know how to walk with heels.

He did not smile when Arthur, wasted with whiskey, cut half of his mustache when he was shaving. The unfortunate event led him to shave it off and wait for it to grow back. Half of Small Heath could not recognized him for days. Let’s not be afraid to state that he cried a little.

Nor did he smile when Heaven’s gargantuan watchdog, Kaiser, jumped on her small frame, happy to see her, and shoved her right in a puddle of mud, ruining both her white hair and her expensive new coat. The expression on her face had been priceless. As well as Arthur’s silly way to run to her.

You laughed each time, almost straining your ribs, but your husband did not even smirk.

As days passed your hopes crumbled bit by bit, until you gave up on the idea. A sigh escaped your lips as you watered the roses of the mansion’s garden, for when Tommy’s darkness started to infect your mood the only place you would find peace was that place in which hundreds of wonderful flowers blossomed. Lost in an ocean of colorful petals, you did not notice the threatening black clouds that were coming your way, with an urging desire to rain down on you. When the first lightning bolt striated the sky, its roaring thunder making you jump like a scared cat, it was already too late.

You ran to the mansion, shutting the door close behind you. It was at that same moment, when you were looking down at your soaked up body with a look of pure despair on your beautiful face, that Thomas came out of the living room. His piercing blue eyes, whose quiet oceans had been darkened with memories of war, fell upon your frame. And then it happened. A little sparkle lit up in his irises at the sight of you, his wife, caught in the rain. Your entangled wet hair, your new dress sticking to your skin, your runny make up…

“The fuck are you looking at Thomas Shelby?!!”

Tommy took off his little glasses and, all of sudden, burst into laughter. The melody of joy, long forgotten, washed away the dust of his tired soul and boomed in the hallway. Laughing was so unusual for him that the corner of his mouth felt numb after a few seconds, but Tommy got the giggles and could not stop. You wanted to yell at him, to tell him it was not fun, but the beautiful symphony of his laugh awoke the flame of your love. It was the very same laugh he had before the war. Before Kimber. Before Campbell and all the other bastards… Scared of moving by fear of disrupting such a rare vision, you remained still. It was Tommy who broke down the distance between you and wrapped your hips with his strong arms, not minding to ruin his own expensive suit.

“I love your laugh. I wish I’d hear it more often.” You said with a little smile, your fingers gently caressing one of his hollow cheeks. He has been so stressed out he had barely eaten in a week.

“Well, you should get caught in the rain more.” He replied, raising an eyebrow, “You look like a wet cat.”

“Fuck you.”

“Language, Mrs. Shelby.” He leaned forward to kiss you but you denied him. Surprised, Tommy frowned and looked at you in hope of getting a reason behind your refusal, "Come on, kiss me."

“No.” You taunted him, freeing yourself from his embrace and taking a few steps back toward the closed door of the mansion.

"Don't you dare, Y/N." He warned you, for the cunning gleam in your eyes foreshadowed what you were about to do.

"Catch me, Tom!" You suddenly said, before rushing outside and running under the batting but warm summer rain. In truth, you were convinced he would not follow you.

How wrong you were.

“You bet I will.” He muttered to himself, putting his glasses on the nearest furniture before joining you in the chase.

The rain was pouring in Arrow House, but for the first time in years, sun shone bright in Thomas’ heart.

Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivated me, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

Arthur's wife is Reader in the ongoing series Heaven in Your Eyes.

#Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #Peaky blinders imagine #Peaky blinders x reader #Peaky blinders #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby smut #Thomas Shelby #Thomas Shelby x reader #Cillian Murphy #peaky blinders x y/n

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junkdrawerfics · 1 year

Text

Game On

(one of my favorite clips, lowkey)

Jasper X Reader

Summary: A little snippet of wolf!reader playing baseball with the Cullens. You and Emmett have a little rivalry going, and you'll do anything for some Jasper scratches.

Word Count: 1021

---

“You sure you can keep up with us, wolfie?” Emmet calls from the batter’s box with an absolutely snarky grin.

You cock a brow at him, settling into a crouch with an equally vicious smile, “Just you watch me, Em, you won’t make it to first base.”

“I’d like to see that,” he taunts back, twisting his grip on the bat and posing it over his shoulder.

Jasper chuckles from across the field, the sound easily reaching your sensitive ears, “Take it easy on him, darlin’.”

“No can do, Jas.” Your friendly rivalry with Emmett started as soon as you and Jasper got together, only made worse by you being a shifter. Competitiveness runs deep in your blood. “Someone has to put him in his place, and you pansies sure aren’t going to.”

“Ooh-” Emmett hisses through his teeth dramatically. “-you gonna let her talk to you like that?”

“I’m not one to get offended by a few words,” Jasper shoots back, smirk all too cocky, “Not like when you whined a full week when she called you a cream puff.”

“Hey-”

“It’s time!” Alice chimes before Emmett can stand up for himself.

You snicker and he throws a glare your way.

Game on.

With your enhanced speed and strength, you put up a good fight against the vampires. It’s almost unfair, you and Jasper working perfectly in sync, getting them out one at a time. On your turn to bat, the feeling of smashing the ball, brutal and unrestrained, makes your whole body spark to life, driving you through the plates like a flash of lightning. It’s exhilarating.

Nearing the end of the thunderstorm, the game is close, your team up by one run. Emmett is back up to bat. Chest heaving, heart pounding, you make eye contact with him and, with the most wolfish smile, mouth a silent, ‘Bring it.’

Emmett scowls, eyes focusing back on Alice, and you hear Jasper chuckle softly.

Alice winds up, moving with practiced ease, and launches the baseball straight down the line. A crack of thunder overlaps the loud ring of the bat slamming into it, and it goes flying. You go flying after it.

You tear through the trees, eyes bright with glee as you follow the ball. The wind whips your hair around wildly, the damp ground giving way under your feet. You feel free. Out of breath, every muscle aching, but free. The moment right before your feet leave the ground, adrenaline surges through every cell of your body and you explode into a mess of fur and snapping teeth.

You jump, far too high, far too fast. But your teeth clamp down on the baseball, practically ripping through the leather, before you go crashing to the ground in a flurry of dirt and grass. The earth shakes at your impact, the sound louder than the storm’s thunder.

“(Y/n)!”

The family of vampires freeze, eyes wide. Jasper races after you. Worry burns through his veins as he comes to a stop at the crater’s edge. Gold eyes narrowed, he desperately searches through the haze of dirt for a sign that you’re okay.

Then you pop back up, and all his concern dissipates. You, in wolf form, look up at him with happy, squinted eyes, the ball still clamped firmly in your jaws. Your whole body practically shakes with how hard your tail is wagging.

“Well look at you,” the blond sighs, shaking his head, “I didn’t know wolves could fly, darlin’.”

Shaking off the dirt clinging to your fur, you scramble out of the hole you created. Without hesitation, you push into Jasper’s open arms. He chuckles as you wiggle in his grip, letting out little happy huffs as he scratches your head. You love it when he gives you scratches in wolf form, it’s like getting a massage in human form.

“You know-” You perk your ears and pause to look up at his slanted, mischievous grin. “-Emmett won’t like this.”

You let out a muffled ‘woof’. He better not like it, because he just signed his defeat. You won. The thought makes you growl happily as you adjust the ball in your mouth. Time to show off your victory.

Jasper sticks by your side and you trot back to the field. The moment you reach the tree line, Emmett lets out a loud, rumbling groan.

“That has to be cheating!”

“Umpire?”

Everyone turns to Esme. Emmett looks so hopeful, but then she looks at you and winks. You’ve never been so happy to see someone’s face plummet.

“You’re out, Emmett.”

You drop the ball and let out a small victorious howl. The man glares at you playfully, but you catch the smallest glimpse of a smile when you do a few happy stomps and throw yourself at Jasper. The blond grunts as your full weight takes you both to the ground.

“Darlin’,” he wheezes out a bright laugh, “you’re crushing me.”

You huff, not caring even a bit as you drop your head on top of his chest. More scratches. You deserve more scratches, you won the game! Jasper can feel your insistence, having grown accustomed to reading your more chaotic emotions in this form, and gives in when you nudge him with your nose, licking his face. He curls his fingers through your thick fur, earning a happy grumble from you.

“We’re going to head back to the house,” Carlisle announces, voice ringing with amusement, “Feel free to join us when you would like to.”

Which ends up being far later in the night because there is something so lovely about just curling up with your vampire and watching the stars come out. He eventually goes and retrieves your extra clothes (he started keeping some with him after several phasing accidents) and you return to the Cullen household, where you mercilessly mock Emmett.

“How does it feel to lose to a wolf, cream puff?”

“(Y/n), I swear to God I’m gonna-”

You dash up the stairs, giggling wildly. Jasper follows behind slowly, tossing the bigger vampire a smug grin.

“Next time, you shouldn’t underestimate her.”

---

This idea came to me at like midnight and I wrote down the idea and I love it. I hope you guys enjoyed it too!

#reader insert #x reader #reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #twilight saga #twilight #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper x reader #wolf reader #baseball scene #wrote this listening to super massive blackhole

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cuubism · 4 days

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I've been sitting on this little happy ficlet for absolute ages because there was a time I thought I might incorporate it into another fic. That seems increasingly unlikely though, so here it is.

The Dreaming was beautiful when Dream was happy.

It wasn’t always beautiful, though Hob would never say those words to Dream. It was always magnificent, always awesome in the old sense of something grand and beyond understanding. It was terrifying sometimes, too. But in Hob’s opinion, the Dreaming was really only beautiful when Dream was happy.

Like now.

Lying on his back in the wildflowers, bare arms thrown back above his head, dressed down in a black t-shirt and long flowy skirt, feet bare. Happy crinkles at the corners of his closed eyes, the barest hint of a smile that might have been bright as the sunrise for how it looked on Dream’s usually subtle face. The bumblebees and dragonflies that kept landing gently on him and brushing off again in cheerful spirals, as if delighted by their creator’s presence.

Hob had never been to this part of the Dreaming before, which, admittedly, wasn’t saying much when the Dreaming was effectively infinite. Dream had brought them to an expansive field of yellow grasses and rowdy wildflowers of green and teal and mauve and a hundred other colors one would never see in the waking world. It wasn’t Fiddler’s Green; it was wilder than that: rock bluffs dotting the fields in the distance, an endless grey-blue sky that was clear for now but threatened to tip towards rain at any moment, sweet warm wind that tugged on Hob’s hair with grabbing hands. A fierce, untamed landscape holding itself gently, for now.

That was the way Dream was beautiful, Hob thought.

He leaned on his elbow, looking down at Dream’s peaceful expression where he lay beside him. As he watched, an iridescent wasp lit upon Dream’s nose, its six sharp legs stark against his pale skin. Hob moved instinctively to scare it off, before remembering that this was the Dreaming, and stilling his hand.

The wasp didn’t try to sting Dream, of course it didn’t. This dream space lived on the border of danger, but wherever it touched Dream, it turned soft, indulgent, adoring.

Dream opened his eyes to look at the wasp. He didn’t say anything to it, at least not in any way that Hob could understand, but he stroked a very light finger along one filigree wing, and it flitted off again, away back to its hauntings.

In its absence, Hob traced a fingertip down Dream’s profile, in much the same way he had touched the wasp. Dream’s eyes fluttered shut again at the touch.

“They all love you,” Hob said.

Dream hummed. “I feel a particular accord with this landscape,” he said, a ghost of a smile on his lips at Hob’s words.

“Yeah, it reminds me of you. More than the Dreaming as a whole usually does.”

“Oh?”

Hob sat upright and tugged Dream up with him, brushing strands of grass from Dream’s hair. Then he kissed him softly on the lips and said, “Constantly on the verge of thundering.”

Dream grumbled under his breath, something about making it rain in Hob’s flat later. Hob just kissed him again, this time on the cheek, saying, “That wouldn’t be the most fun way to end a date, darling.”

“I suppose not.” Dream leaned back to meet Hob’s eyes, his expression now glinting with mischief. “I did have other plans. But if you insist on thundering.”

He blinked, and the sky split open with a tremendous crash, rainwater pouring down in a torrent that soaked them both immediately to the bone. Hob noted with amusement that Dream was letting himself get wet, too. His shirt was sticking to his narrow frame, skirt clinging to each bend of his legs. And his normally fluffy hair was unmentionable.

Hob grinned widely at him, water streaming over his nose and lips, dripping into his eyes. “The things you will do just to have your way.”

Dream’s eyes narrowed in challenge. “Must I have you struck by lightning, as well?”

“C’mere, you.” Hob dragged him into a hug, wet and sticky and clinging, as the rain kept pounding down and sinking into the grass around them. Flowers were nodding under the weight of the droplets, and the corners of the sky had gone dark and grey — but Dream was happy, was the thing. Hob could tell by the way he let Hob manhandle him into the hug, pressed the side of his face against Hob’s, the twitch of a smile on his lips that Hob could feel against his cheek. Storms in the Dreaming were so often indicative of Dream’s sadness or rage, and it was thrilling to be caught up in one that was born of playfulness instead.

The rain was even warm.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hob told him.

“Everything you say is at random,” Dream complained, somewhat hollowly considering he still had his fingers clutched in Hob’s dripping shirt.

“Nah. You just don’t understand the incredibly complex workings of my mind.”

He could sense Dream’s eye roll without having to see it.

“Isn’t it simple enough to just know that I always think you’re beautiful?” he asked, quieter now and almost hushed out by the rain. “It’s like the sky. It’s really always beautiful, but sometimes you catch it at a certain angle and you think, oh.”

“I am, in fact, also the sky in the Dreaming,” Dream said — just to be ornery, Hob thought. But then he said, softer, “You have a gentle perspective of me.”

It was true, Hob thought, that most might not look at this tempestuous landscape with generosity, might not be so easygoing about its overbearing rain. But Hob saw Dream smile and all he wanted was to tip his face up into the storm.

He ran his hands through Dream’s sopping hair. “You can count on that.”

#i post happy fic to cheer myself up 🥺#i need dream in a skirt i need it so bad #dreamling #my writing

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cvtyvvitch · 7 days

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💗💐✨Pick-A-Card: What Is Next for You in Love?✨💐

💕 Pick an emoji (⚡️, 🌸, or 🌊) for a reading on what is coming next for you in love.

✨ Focus your intention and remain open — if none of the images light up for you, there may not be a message for you in this reading! Alternatively, more than one image might connect with you. As always, trust your intuition and take what resonates, leaving the rest.

⚡️⚡️⚡️

#1 ⚡️ Lightning ⚡️

In French, love at first sight is called ‘coup de foudre’ — a lightning strike. This picture makes my eyes water, and I get a few different impressions off it. First, someone sees you and is completely taken back. This could be someone you have met already and they felt this, but for some it’s happening soon. Someone who literally stops in their tracks and is dazed by you. It’s a frenetic energy, hard to pin down. A bit of the madness that comes with a really intense new crush.

The second option I get is that someone reenters your life very suddenly, a bit of a Tower experience. It feels that things were left unresolved between you, and it’s a situation/feelings that still keeps you up some nights. It’s a feeling like horses straining under a harness and energy built up to the point of explosion. Not a bad feeling per se, but definitely volatile and shocking.

Key words: fire, volcano, out of control, thunder, chewed straws, bitten nails, knock on the door, feet on pavement, midnight, nokia cell phone, unknown caller ID, broken glass, be not afraid, late night gas/petrol station, buzzing silence

PS If you have any feedback, please let me know! Also if you save this reading and notice it being accurate for you, I’d love to hear about it!

🌸🌸🌸

#2 🌸 Pink Flower 🌸

For this group, I get the image of someone picking flowers from the garden for their grandmother. Someone very sweet on the periphery of your life who you know or may get the opportunity to get to know soon. They feel like someone with a lot of responsibility with maybe their family or community, but always find the time for you. Sweet, somewhat shy or quiet energy. Feels like a neighbor, maybe, or a neighbor to someone in your family.

There’s hesitation here, maybe on both ends? I don’t feel major turmoil but just the uncertainty mixed with curiosity that comes with a new person who isn’t obviously mutually interested in you. Friendly without being over flirtatious. The type of person who gives you a bucket of lemons because they’ve had a bunch extra in their backyard.

Keywords: bicycle, farmer’s market, pharmacy, picket fence, down the hall, shy, hedge, grandmother, dahlias, peonies, tuna can, plum

PS If you have any feedback, please let me know! Also if you save this reading and notice it being accurate for you, I’d love to hear about it!

🌊🌊🌊

#3 🌊 Waves 🌊

This connection coming in has a feeling of longing. It feels like a period of missing someone or a time in your life that you know you can’t return to. Grief that feels a little bit difficult to place because it feels like wanting something that even if you got it, things wouldn’t feel the same because you have also changed.

I know that’s not a super happy sounding message, but this is a period where you are asked to deeply reflect on what you loved and feel you’ve lost. Allow yourself to move past the surface of yearning to the deeper questions: why did I have this experience? Where did I learn what I wanted, and what does not truly help me grow and feel safe? It may feel very confusing right now in the face of perceived loss. It’s a murky time you must allow yourself to experience and pass through, but take care not to become trapped by the siren’s song of nostalgia. There is more for you to experience on the other side of this lesson, and a version of yourself waiting to embrace new joy based on a profound understanding of these past disappointing experiences.

Keywords: sighs, mirror, fingers along water, long hair, loneliness, emptiness, nostalgia, despair. Salt, tears, egg yolk, relearning, color, passion, glorious comeback and rebirth

#tarot reading #divination #tarot #tarotcommunity #tarot pac #pac reading #pick a pile #pick a card #free tarot reading #channeled message #loa tumblr #pink aesthetic #love reading #tarot love reading

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theemporium · 7 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/theemporium/732996365739819008/httpspbstwimgcommediaf-cfpsex0aa8a5hformat

PLEASEEE can we have the smallest of blurbs/thots on this, them cuddling into the reader because they’re wee pups after all

-🥀

I KNEW I HAD TO AS WELL

You were aware that the forecast said it would rain, but you didn’t realise it would be a full fucking thunderstorm.

You had been huddled in the Red Bull garage when the weather took a dramatic turn for the worse. First, there were just a few radios here and there about some rain hitting the track. Seconds later, a massive dark cloud was covering the track, the sun was gone and the conditions were far too dangerous to finish the end of qualifying.

You were honestly just happy both your boys were safe as they made their way into the pits, even prouder when you realised this meant they would be starting on the front row together. But then the thunder started and a part of you froze.

Thunderstorms were never a problem for you. If anything, you enjoyed them. The rain pattering against the window, the distant sound of thunder claps in the air with strikes of lightning as you played some calming music. Being cuddled up in bed, maybe even a book in hand with a warm drink by your side.

But your boys never thought the same.

You had began moving before you could even process it, but the team wouldn’t let you leave the safety of the garages just yet, which left you watching the interview on one of the screens. You could see it on their faces, even if they tried to hide it. You could see them trying to laugh it off and continue with the questions. You could see the way their bodies flinched, the way they covered their ears, the way they gravitated towards each other for safety. It broke your heart to see because you knew exactly how they were during thunderstorms.

The second they were given the go ahead, the boys were heading straight back to their drivers’ rooms to leave for the hotel as soon as they could. But it was short-lived when both boys barreled into Max’s driver room, Charles rushing towards you before you could even blink.

A low whine left him as he wound his arms around your waist, tugging you close and burying his face into the crook of your neck as another distant thunderclap echoed outside.

“I know,” you murmured, holding onto him tightly as your eyes caught Max’s—who you knew was trying to put on a brave face. “Let’s head back to the hotel, okay? Everything is gonna be fine.”

Both boys were twitchy the whole ride over. All three of you were sitting in the back of the car, with you pressed between both boys as they tried to distract themselves. You could feel the anxiety rolling off them, you could feel the way their bodies tensed and the way their hands tightened on your thighs. You knew they just wanted to be alone and far away from the thunder.

The second the hotel room door locking sounded through the suite, you heard the distinct sound of clothes ripping before two massive, fluffy beasts were approaching you. Another clap of thunder rendered through the air and both boys let out pitiful whines, cowering slightly as they looked up at you with big eyes.

“My poor boys,” you cooed softly as you reached out to run your hands over the heads, scratching behind their ears until both wolves were nosing at your legs. “C’mon, we’ll do what we do when we’re home.”

And it was a little more squished than the bed you shared at home, but it did the job just fine. You had both wolves squashing you between them, their heads resting on your stomach with the duvet over them. It was a trick you read online with dogs and fireworks, but it seemed to work perfectly with your werewolf boyfriends.

“You both need to eat something soon,” you told them when you felt one of them—probably Charles, if you knew your boys well—pushing the fabric of your shirt up until he could rest his head on your bare stomach. “And I would rather not scare hotel staff with two massive dogs that are technically undisclosed.”

Max let out a huff against your thigh.

“Don’t be a puppy,” you snorted as your fingers threaded through his fur. “Just one meal and then you can transform back. I would like at least thirty minutes with my boys to tell you how proud I am of both of you for getting the front row.”

Charles let out a loving purr as he nuzzled himself further into you.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

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undercoverpena · 9 months

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comfort came against my will

gif credit to @perotovar

joel miller x f!reader summary: it’ll begin with a little beg, a whispered plea—fingers wrapping around his chin, mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

word count: 1.8k warnings: smut, p in v, jo's spelling and poetic nature. dedication: happy birthday to my friend, @swiftispunk - i know you love Joel, and i hope you love this. special thanks to @perotovar for letting me use their beautiful GIF that inspired half of my imagery, if not all of it.

There’s something about heavy rainfall.

The way it’s cleansing, renewing—almost reinvigorating, depending on when the last time it fell.

Joel found that the only downside is the scent it leaves behind.

Once, a long time ago, it used to leave behind a smell that others wished to bottle—a wish to burn it in candles or hang cheap versions from their car’s centre mirror in haphazardly cut-out trees.

Now, it has an aroma that reminds him of death. A stench which has dug itself into the hairs in his nose, unwilling to let go—clinging, desperate not to be forgotten.

But, you like the rain.

He'll always find you near the window when it pours, eyes tracing the droplets. Your chair purposefully, and with all intentions, pointing to the muck-covered window. Nothing more perfect, you’d murmur—fingers wrapped around one of the crystal glasses the two of you discovered on a run, pressing it to your cheek, off-coloured liquid sloshing as you sigh.

He’s pretty sure he could name a few other things more perfect than rain, but he does find it hard to argue that it isn't the most perfect soundtrack when your thighs are on either side of him.

Especially when the weather is like this. Where a flash of lightning can illuminate you, casting you in a brief spotlight that kisses over your curves and the evidence of your survival.

Tonight, it begins with you draining your glass, turning your head, eyes shimmering as you move from your place, coming to join him on the bed.

Your fingers, both a little rough and soft, wrap around his chin, before a little beg, a whispered plea fills the air—mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

He couldn’t argue, would never protest. But, your mouth stealing any words he wishes to say. Because he likes having you under him—pinned, close, unable to look anywhere but directly at him. For when you stare, you make everything else pale in comparison. Made the world around mute, it all fading to nought.

You do so with ease, with a single look. One he imagines has always been there, all very much you, even if the state of things has tried to steal it away. He can easily imagine a younger you modelling it, one without the stress lines of living, it all softer, gentler.

Joel doesn’t mind that isn't the case now. He doesn't care for gentle or soft. He likes how sharp you are, that you can cut, wound and make him bleed. He enjoys that, even if he doesn’t deserve anything from you, you stand side-by-side with him, choosing him—wanting and needing, all raised brow with a smirk to match.

If you listen, the rain is telling us something.

You're close to his ear as you mumble it, lips ghosting down his cheek before a clap of thunder steals the phantoms of your whispered echo.

His hands fan over your hips, pushing up one of his tees that you're wearing, sliding it up with his thumbs—feeling how your skin moves, shifts, lengthening over your muscles and bones. His mind busy, occupied, only thinking about how beautiful you are, even when drenched in darkness.

How you’re all untouched except the few scars, the nips and scratches left by those who wished to end you, but found that you weren’t so easy to dispose of.

Joel knows that you’re vicious, all sharp teeth and a menace with a knife many shouldn’t ever want to meet in a dark alley, not that the world has cottoned on. Each try, each fail. He often watches, in awe, pleased, because you're like him. So smooth in the way you're prepared to split someone open, coat your boots in their ichor as the rest of them spill out. Leaving him, often, battling his feelings at the sight.

But while he knows that side of you, Joel also knows the other you.

The one who still believes the rain is romantic. A soul who wishes for a pretty print on a dress, even if you'll only wear it in the four walls of the place you two share. Modelling it for him, dipping your toe into a fantasy with him. You also like the little things, such as a pair of matching glasses, enjoying that they belong together, a metaphor for something you clearly desperately crave.

If he were an honest man, one not ripped to shreds and put together all wrong, he’d tell you you’re a more perfect sight than rain. Not just when you’re sitting on top of him or when you’re under him; not just when you’re panting, venom in your eyes and splattered with cherry-red. But, when you’re just beside him.

Breathing, existing, sleeping.

He’d tell you that you’re an image perfectly cut out of an old version of his happy ever after, slapped down and glued beside him now, even when he’s all tragedy and tragic. That your darkness dances with his faultlessly—making him less alone.

That for you, he’d want to be better, which included letting you go—even if you’re pulling him close—because a man such as him, with hands stained and scarred with horrors, shouldn’t get to touch smeared perfection. That you’re not really poisoned or rotten, just living, fighting—claws digging into the soil, all desperate for another moment.

It’s why he lets you have your fun, and then he flips you under him, palm to your cheek, stare burning into yours.

What’s it tryin’ to tell us? The rain.

You fit him inside of you perfectly—just like you’ve fitted yourself in his space. You’re all knotted around him, heat warm—inviting. Your thighs pressing close, legs crossing behind him, aiding, helping.

Not because you don’t think he’d get you there, but because you’re conscientious, caring—it appears in smaller gestures others wouldn’t notice, but he sees them. Bottles them. Keep them close when you’re not beside him.

Not that he shows it.

Unsure once again, for the billionth time since you stood beside him (and never left), what you see in him—what you think he can give you. Because he’s old, worn, somewhat broken beyond repair—not that it stops you from trying.

“More, Joel. Please.”

You don’t call him pet names, but he hears them in the silence.

They quiver and talk in hushed voices in the kitchen that is covered in grime and not fit for a beauty such as yourself. Some even sprout on his tongue, a fresh seedling, all untouched and unruined—not yet weeded from his throat.

He finds it harder to not let them fall when you sound as pretty as you do. When your nails press half-moons into his skin, leaving a tale of your own in his forearms and biceps, meeting him with everything you have as your walls tighten, delightfully, a match made in hell—because heaven would never allow him. Or you now, he supposes.

It’s why his thumb slides between the two of you, licked with his spit, mixing with the slick against your swollen clit. You gasp, spraying sweetness around the air that's heavy-layered with sex.

He’s forever starving, never quenched—a need for you that runs deeper than mere living and existing. Not ever able to purge you from his system, never wanting to either. Because you’re entangled with him, rooted, anchored inside of him so you can bob along and never go under.

Not that he’d let you.

Joel would never.

His hips punctuate that sentiment. Wanting you to know it, driving them in, so the words don’t go in one ear and out the other. He aims to stamp them in you, fuck them so deep into you you’ll never forget. The sound of skin on skin, groan and grunt, all filling the space, evidence of his determination, swirling around your returning breath, still moaning, murmuring—all scratchy and rough.

“—Let go, Joel. Fill me.”

It rips from him, your name.

Each letter is important, each sound giving the attention it deserves as it coats the air—mouth finding the space between your ear and neck, kissing, teeth nipping.

“Stuff me full.”

The rain hammers heavier, beating its fists against the glass as though it’ll only calm when he does as you’ve asked. As though you and nature are tied together, bonded—the real pairing made in paradise.

It’s then your lips find his, sloppy, messy, all uncoordinated. He can taste the bitterness of your drink on your tongue and the pleasure he’d given you. His mouth lapping it up, licking into yours, tongue far past your teeth as he grips you a little tighter, ruts into you a little deeper—as if hoping there’s more of you to explore, more vastness he can leave a mark on.

It's muffled, but you cut the air with his name as if your tongue is a blade. Your body tightens, mouth ripped from his as you bare your throat, chin lifted, eyes closed as it washes over you and your walls become a vice, hugging his cock in a way no one else ever has.

He's close.

So close.

Another flash, it all bright, exposing the sweat collected on your skin, the path it has made between your breastbone, the way your body looks under him.

Then it’s electric, ripping through him as he stains, writing you’re his all in thick ropes of white—his hips stuttering, slowing, riding it out what it is you do to him. It’s a feeling akin to being folded inside out and then put back again—making his muscles tense and relax, his bones forget they ache, as his throat burns with the force of his exclamation.

It’s minutes, little seconds clumping up until an expanse of time collects, and he’s ready to leave the space between your thighs.

Your eyes on him, all unwavering, mapping his features as though you’re an artist, ready to make him into a sculpture.

He doesn’t tell you to stop, he's learnt his lesson from doing as such—eyes ablaze, full of molten, words sharp as ice, all a twisted juxtaposition as you lay into him all the ways you were, are and am enamoured by him.

He’s sure his list is longer, but he swallowed that, too.

Joel had just nodded, left you angry for half an evening until his arms wrapped around you, and he felt you melt, less lava and more a candle-lit flame licking at him until he took you to bed.

Even if a scrap of time has passed since then, Joel is still no closer to finding himself comfortable with the look—the one he suspects comes with words. Ones you don’t thankfully spill, but ones he would mean just as much if he really asked himself.

It isn’t until you tap him, that he moves. You’re more nimble, quicker on your feet to fetch a rag to clean yourself and then him. Each touch delicate, your stare concentrated before the cloth is cast to some corner—a thing you’ll move and clean tomorrow.

And then, you’re beside him, finding the place you usually choose—all intentional, willingly given—as his arm finds itself around you. A flash of lightning displaying the two of your shadows pressed together, merged in ways the two of your souls are.

Swallowing, he finds your stare is back on the window, the world outside painting its own version of a masterpiece.

“Y’never said what the rain’s telling us.”

You smile, before you lift up your chin, looking at him through your brows. “Just stories. The rain likes to tell stories.”

an: ily, han.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic #joel miller smut #pedrostories

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maria-from-ga · 11 months

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I can't believe Teen Titans is officially 20 years old today. My favorite animated show and one of the best imo. It got me through a lot of shit & means the world to me

Starfire- the Heart

My favorite character on Teen Titans, and still my favorite hero.

A joyful person who loved the world around despite its cruelty. An immigrant who loved her culture yet always struggled w/ her sense of place and being an outsider like me. Her journey becoming more sure of herself & her place & an advocate for other outsiders like Red Star is beautiful one.

Cyborg- The Lynchpin

A extroverted, disabled black hero who had a deep internal struggle to accept that his disability doesn't contradict, but strengthens his humanity

His main arc on what it means to be a 'man' - that he doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone but instead be sure of himself. As a black hero, his defiance being rewarded, not shamed, resulting in victory in the end is still one of my favorites TT03 arcs

Raven- The Inspiration

When I was younger, I was embarrassed to admit how much I was like Raven bc I hated feeling like a closed-off outcast.

But now understanding Raven as a closed-off person who hid her emotions in spite of how she cared (which was the most out of anyone) to protect everyone. Who constantly fought for good despite being deemed a curse bc she hoped for better- Raven is an inspiration

Her journey to accept her emotions & forge her own destiny and not give into despair is one of the best arcs in all animation

Beast Boy, the Wild Card

To be honest, I despise his immaturity when I was younger.

Now I know he was just a kid trying to be happy despite his hardships (like terrible parentals & Terra).

His season of growing up, learning to let go, and building a team of underrated/inexperienced heroes like himself to defeat Brotherhood of Evil against all odds when all hope was lost was peak

Robin- the Leader

Finally, the Boy Wonder, what else is there to say?

A character so flawed, struggling w/ anger, darkness, and obsessiveness, but will go to war for his friends, & sacrifice all for those he loved.

Learning to let people in and that he can be more than hero. Best Robin adaptation we have seen.

Not just the core 5, but the entire Titans family was amazing. Characters who left an impact despite limited screentime. Más y Menos, Thunder and Lightning, Titans East, Speedy, Hotspot, Kole, and too many to name. With the best Bumblebee we have ever had in any media.

Thank you so much to Glen Murakami, David Slack, Amy Wolfram, Sam Register, Derrick Wyatt (RIP), Scott Menville, Hynden Walch, Khary Payton, Tara Strong, Greg Cipes, and so many countless others in the cast & crew for giving this to me and so many others.

Forever grateful for the Titans' stories & memories & for Robin, Cyborg, Starfire, Raven, and Beast Boy

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lionheartedmusings · 5 months

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bear with me bc this is gonna be a bit of a long one, but i've seen folks talking about how they're excited to get the horrors back on the qsmp and while i totally agree that i miss those blood-curdling, creepy, uncanny valley sort of scenes... i think the beauty of the overall storyline (as much as it's execution can be criticised ) is that we as the audience are seeing things in a vacuum.

the qsmp storyline is a living breathing player alongside our povs, and while we're aware of that, we're also not always engaging with it. we're getting swept up in the day-to-day of it all and getting lulled into a sense of security that ultimately makes us unable to truly comprehend the horror of the last few months until we take a step back and analyze it bit by bit.

children went missing in the night, leaving only their identifiers behind on empty beds. there were no leads. people looked and looked, and found nothing. parents were mad with concern and grief, and the all-seeing, all-powerful entity that rules their lives trapped in this hamster wheel of an island has no answers.

then, the items left behind on those beds vanish too.

then, there's mind-controlling, happiness inducing drugs being pumped into people against their will. still no news of the children. people are falling apart at the seams.

people are led to a maze where a wheel is spun and everything they have left of the children of this godforsaken island is gone. burned up. what does it mean? no one knows. they have to live on.

suddenly, a game is played. a clone of a dead child shows up, leading some of them into the same maze, forcing them to walk through a maze of doors and corridors, only to find a game of dice orchestrated by an unknown entity.

new people arrive, bearing witness to the hopeless, grim, sad reality of everyone who was already there. there's hope — there's always hope — but my god the pain is overwhelming.

there's clues, but there's not. the government keeping them trapped here against their will still has no answers, nothing to point them in the right direction.

faceless bears go missing.

faceless bodies show up on the streets. bloodied. dead. eaten.

suddenly, there's thunder and lightning and oh! oh, their children! of course they'll get on the train, that's where the children are!

but they're hijacked. stolen. once again, their autonomy is stripped entirely as another entity with power they cannot comprehend forces them to split into factions and compete for... something. their children's lives are on the line and they maim and kill those they call family because they fear they have no choice.

everyone went through hell — purgatory was a bad title for what they went through. it was hell, with no salvation in sight.

when all is said and done, when all the murder and backstabbing is over, they see their children through glass they cannot break. one escapes because chance said so, and the rest are left behind as the ceiling collapses on them.

the world is ending and their salvation is one singular boat a thousand blocks away. lovers can't say goodbye, friends run for their lives together, a father and a son dash desperately with no hope in sight. some stay behind, through choice or chance.

the government official that has made their life hell returns the children to them, and brings some new ones. those new children get carted off to new parents without option (again) and suddenly everything's supposed to be fine! nevermind your friends are gone! nothing to see here!

behind the scenes, the all-seeing all-knowing government is breaking apart, there's something far more horrifying and twisted at play in the background... but it's nothing the islanders can help with. nothing they can do. they have to live on and pretend their golden cage is fine and dandy bc at the end of the day, it's their only option.

one-eyed creatures show up demanding something "of theirs" back and bc humanity is strong, one islander refuses to hand someone kind and innocent off to them.

it dooms them, as their humanity has every single time.

now, they're under attack and they can barely defend themselves despite months of prep and having amazing gear — again, they try their hardest but everything is stacked against them. they fight, and fight, but their children are on the line and that's their main concern.

every fight? there's bodies littering the ground and panicked screams. explosions. chainsaws revving, and worry, and it's a war ten times a week.

a child loses a life, and now it's personal, but what can they do? no one listens to them, no one has ever listened to them.

and in the middle of all of this? their family is still gone, trapped in a wasteland, or missing, or... dead.

there was no funeral for q!maxo bc there's no stopping to smell the roses on quesadilla island, not really. where's slime? where's pol? where's the people who they haven't seen yet? gone, yes, but they don't have time to stop and worry about them. they don't have time to mourn losses and grieve their dead.

luffy, who came to try and help their friends, was stolen and hurt.

those eyeball workers? they were people once, maybe good people. maybe the best people we never got to meet, but they got shifted and changed into something monstrous and out of their control.

my point being: the story that the qsmp is telling is innately horrifying. it's not just creepy — it's twisted, and tragic, and absolutely terrifying. it's about loss of agency and running on an endless hamster wheel of someone else's making, and how you just sort of... live with it after a while.

and i think that's really fucking cool, because like these characters we too get used to the tragedy of life, little by little, and forget to see the whole thing from a bird's eye view (pun intended).

#qsmp #long post #siudghiusdfg THIS IS OVER 1K WORDS SOMEONE SAVE ME

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devilishchaos · 11 months

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Hi, I just read your Miami fic and it was awesome! If your requests are open, could write more Rúben smut, where is making love you to during your anniversary night, him being really gentle and end up with cockwarming until morning xx

Anniversary | Rúben Dias Imagine

Rating / genre: M (18+); smut, fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Y/N and Rúben have soft anniversary sex.

Warnings: Explicit smut, oral sex (f receiving), explicit talk, unprotected vaginal penetration (don't do it!!! stay safe!), hair grabbing, use of pet names "baby", "babe", "princesa", size talk just for a sec, google translated portuguese

AN: Thank you so much. I loved this request, I just had to deliver <3 They have sex in the morning, I hope this is okay with you :) enjoy x

Word Count: 2 143 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Your eyes opened slowly as you were dragged out of your dream. You felt fingertips gently trailing up and down your bare spine, the touch a familiar one.

Rúben laid next to you in bed, though he’d been awake for a while. The noise coming from the raging storm outside had stirred him out from his own sleep. He enjoyed laying in the dark, listening to the storm and tracing shapes onto your skin. He loved to feel the movements of your steady breathing under his touch, it brought him comfort that nothing else could.

Your eyes adjusted to the dark, watching lightning flash behind the sheer curtains. You had no idea what time it was, the storm making the sky pitch-black.

“Good morning, meu amor.” he spoke in his deep, husky morning voice. You rolled over to face him, offering a sleepy smile. He leaned in and kissed you slowly. Nothing about this morning was rushed. You and Rúben were in your own little world.

Your fingers went into his soft hair, deepening your kiss.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get home earlier last night.” Rúben apologized softly when the two of you split for air.

“It’s okay, amor.” you said quietly, letting him slot one of his legs between yours.

Rúben had gotten caught up at the Etihad Campus the night before, filming content for the City youtube channel, and you were already in bed when he’d finally returned. He had managed not to wake you as he climbed into bed and you were just happy to wake up to him in the morning.

His lips were back on yours then, his hand on the small of your back pulling you closer to him. He had stripped down everything before getting in bed the night before and you hadn’t bothered to get dressed after a bath.

It was all skin-to-skin contact, warm and soft, as you sleepily made out in bed. You sighed quietly into Rúben’s mouth and he smiled against your lips.

“Happy anniversary. Eu te amo.” you whispered softly as he kissed your neck and he hummed against your skin before pulling back to look at you.

“Happy anniversary, princesa. Te amo mais.” he said, rolling you over so he was on top of you.

You shuddered as thunder shook the house, rolling through the city. Rúben smiled gently down at you and you exhaled deeply as he kissed down your body.

“You’re so beautiful.” he hummed against your skin, making you blush at his sweetness.

“It’s dark.” you giggled quietly.

“I know what you look like.” he defended himself as his tongue pushed out from between his swollen lips, flicking over the perked bud in the center of your breast while his long fingers knead and twist the other. You tilt your head back, your eyes fluttering closed as your jaw falls slack, panting breaths filling the quiet between the two of you. When he scrapes his teeth over your sensitive skin, your breath comes out as a moan and you can feel his lips curve into a smile against your breast.

Rúben’s knee disappears from between your legs, leaving your damp, throbbing center with nothing to push against, and you whimper slightly. “Shh..” he murmurs against your skin and shifts his body so that he’s on his knees in front of you, pressing his mouth to your sternum, down your stomach as his fingers grab greedily at your hips.

When he looks back up at you, eyes hazy and heavy with lust, bright red spots appearing over your skin where he’s mouthed at your body, hair mussed from his fingers, Rúben can’t stop himself from letting an eyebrow slide up, a smile forming on his lips.

When he leans back into your body, his lips fast and sloppy now as he presses wet, open mouthed kisses to your stomach and hips, you let your head fall back against the silky pillow and your fingers ghost up to curl in his hair. Rúben’s hands slide behind your thighs, gripping the swell of your ass before he tugs you, to the edge of the bed. You jerk forward, grateful for the closeness he has created as his shoulders press in between your thighs.

“Rúben- ” you whisper and you realize it’s the first word either of you have spoken in a while amidst the sounds of moans and panting.

“Shh, babygirl.” he says, taking your face in between his hands. He brings your face to his, pressing a gentle kiss against your mouth “Let me love on you.” he pulls back from your lips and his hands slide to your shoulders to gently push you back against the bed. Rúben’s head dips and you feel his warm mouth pressing against the top of one thigh, then the other. When his hands grip your knees, sliding your legs farther open, you feel your heart racing in your chest with anticipation.

Rúben’s facial hair tickles where it comes in contact with your thigh as his mouth trails down the inside of your thigh, pressing a gentle kiss where the skin dips between the swell of your thigh and your sex. When he replaces his lips with his teeth, biting suddenly and harshly, your thighs try to come together, closing around his head as you gasp. You relax your muscles as his teeth ease and he pulls back slightly to run his tongue over the indents he’s left behind in your skin.

You push a hand into his hair, pushing the bangs back and digging your nails into his scalp as his head dips to the other thigh. Rúben replays the same touches, biting and soothing your soft skin on the other side, and you feel your chest rumble with a moan as you think about the matching bruises you’ll be sporting on the insides of your thighs for the next few days. His fingers slip in between your folds, sliding through the slick arousal that he’s built in your core.

“Ohh, Rúben..” you whisper, not sure what you’re going to say - maybe, “you don’t have to.” or “please, just put your dick in me..now.” - but he cuts you off.

“Don’t speak.” he says, glancing up at you from between your thighs and you can feel his words against your throbbing centre. You hold his eyes with your own for a moment, seeing the glint of lust and passion in his, and nod slowly.

“Be my good girl.” he purrs, the words slightly muffled as he presses them into your slick lips and you feel a shiver running down your entire body.

With one last glance up at you, Rúben’s mouth presses to your core, parting your swollen lips with his fingers so he can slide his tongue from your throbbing hole to the swollen bundle of nerves above it. His tongue, wide and gentle, slides over your pussy, forcing you to roll your hips slightly over his face. His nose brushes against your clit with the motion and you gasp at the friction. Rúben takes this as a cue, bringing his mouth up to the sensitive bead and sucking it between his lips. He rolls his tongue over it then around as he suckles gently. Your fingers curl, scratching his scalp as you slightly force his face closer, desperate for more.

“Oh, God..” you gasp, your back arching slightly and Rúben’s hand disappears from where it’s been kneading the soft skin of the inside of your thigh. Two of his fingers are suddenly pressed against your hole, teasing before sliding in easily in your vagina. You feel him filling you, knuckle by knuckle, as he continues to move his tongue over your swollen bud.

Rúben’s fingers curl inside of you before he pulls back slightly, beginning to use his hand to thrust deep into the part of you that aches with how badly you want him, how badly you need him. His fingers slide against your walls, satisfying that part of your brain that’s been crying out for more. Amidst your own panting and whimpers, you hear him say something, mouth still between your legs and you push his head back from your thighs.

“What did you say?” you ask breathless as your chest expands rapidly, your cheeks hot as he looks up at you.

“I love you so much, baby.” Rúben says, and the look on his face is like he’s drunk “‘I’m so lucky..” he says again, fingers still thrusting in and out of you with each word “..lucky to know you..” he presses another kiss to your other thigh “..lucky to touch you..” his mouth is against your clit “..lucky to love you.”

He runs his tongue over it, to ghost over your sensitive bud, bringing it back between his lips, and this time he lets his teeth scrape gently over it right as he slams his fingers deep into your body. The feeling that’s been building in your core, the tightness that has had you writhing under his touch, suddenly peaks and your jaw drops open, your hips thrusting against his hand and mouth as your fingers grip his head.

Rúben’s fingers make smaller pushes now, gently guiding you down as he keeps his mouth in place, his tongue running over the pulsing swell in his mouth. Your muscles tighten around his fingers, gripping him as you spasm through your release. When your body finally eases, the muscles in your body loosen as your release washes through your body, Rúben pulls his hand away from you, sitting back on his heels as he wipes the back of his hand over his slick chin and lips.

Despite the storm outside, you felt safe with Rúben and you were melting in the softness of the moment.

“Ready?” Rúben asked, kissing your lips before settling between your legs. You reached your hands out to him and he intertwined his fingers with yours, kissing the backs of your hands.

“Want me to hold your hands?”

“Yes, please.” you nodded and he smiled in the dark.

Your breath caught in your throat as Rúben eased inside of you. He praised you for taking him in so well and you breathed as you adjusted to his cock. You never quite got used to how big Rúben was, despite your frequent sex life. Once he bottomed out, he stilled for a few moments to let the dull ache subside.

“I love feeling you stretch to take all of me in.” he hummed, and you squeezed his hands. His lips brushed over your cheekbone, pressing gentle kisses on your face.

“Rúbenn..” you moaned as he slowly rocked his hips, pushing all the way into you. His breathing grew heavier as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

You let go of one of his hands to pull him down to kiss him passionately as he continued to thrust into you. You were like velvet around him, every part of you so soft. You were addicting and Rúben was mesmerized by how perfect you were for him.

“Rú, I- I want- ” you were cut off with a gasp as the head of his dick brushed against your g-spot.

“Tell me, amor. What do you want?”

“I want to be on top.” you got out through whimpers of pleasure.

Rúben snuck an arm under you, holding you tightly against him, staying nestled deep inside of you. He moved to sit up against the headboard, your legs still wrapped around his hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth as you rocked your hips against his, nearly crying out at the deeper angle.

“I love seeing you ride me like this.” he praised, reaching down to gently massage your clit, feeling your walls tighten around him. You kept your movements slow and steady, the pleasure making Rúben’s head fall back. You kissed the column of his throat, his deep moan sending a wave of arousal through you.

“Babe, I’m so close..” you whimpered and he increased the pressure on your clit, making you cry out his name.

“Cum for me, baby..cum all over me.” Rúben breathed and a shiver rolled down your spine. You rolled forward as you came, squeezing your husband’s shoulders. Your breathing became uneven as your nerves sparked with electricity. The sight of you coming undone above him had Rúben spilling inside of you with a deep moan that echoed through your bedroom, mixing with a boom of thunder.

I love you’s were murmured in the dark, kisses pressed to your head as you caught your breath. You laid on Rúben’s chest, keeping him buried deep inside of you, even after you were done. You squirmed a bit at first, but Rúben rubbed your back lightly and your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of being full.

#ruben dias #ruben gato dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias smut #ruben dias fluff #football imagine #football imagines

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austinbutlerslovers · 6 months

Text

Major Gale Fantasy Part II

Label Mature 18+

It’s Here! 🏆

I’m Going to Miss You Every Second

(*See Major Gale Fantasy Part 1 )

Summary With Gale training for battle as a war pilot on a military base far away from you in Iowa, his dreams of having you pregnant with his child before he deploys are dwindling. Letter after letter he receives from you revealing there are no signs of pregnancy from your last encounters together. With his hopes dashed and the stress of leaving to war imminent, you both cling to the hope that everything will turn out alright.

*Established relationship married

Descriptions withheld for suspense of the story

Inspo: The incredibly handsome and skilled Major Gale obsessed with impregnating you before he deploys.

Extreme historical inaccuracies, the military workings melted my brain …

Spelling errors repeat words grammatical mistakes but it’s a good plot 🤌🏼enjoy!

Special thanks to @jessica987 ✨ for recommending a follow up 💝

I’m Going to Miss you Every Second

It was a gloomy day on the air force training base in Iowa. Gale was the last returning from a ‘station scramble’ where the men worked to see how fast they could get up in the air and back down to the ground in an emergency attack. As Gale was an expert pilot he went last after all his men had cleared their flights.

As he was landing a giant streak of lighting cracked across the expanse of sky above him “holy hell” he said his voice modulated by the oxygen mask. It vanished followed by a booming thunder clap that rattled the windows violently rocking the cockpit. The wheels touched down as he pulled the levers decreasing the acceleration of the aircraft bounding down the runway until it slowed to a manageable speed. Sheets of rain began streaking down the windows as he navigated the large craft to store near the hanger.

His heart was still racing as he emerged from the cock pit heavily pelted with cold rain. The sound of the it almost deafening as he was greeted by the crewmen to check and refuel the craft and move it to lodging. One crewman stops to yell over the downpour “We thought you were a goner with that lightning strike!” Gale yells back “Not today! I’ve got too much to live for.” They flash smiles reveling in the camaraderie.

Gale is almost soaked head to toe as he heads the short distance for cover in the gigantic hanger. Some men are waiting at the entrance watching the rain some are sitting at tables playing cards and others are tossing a football back and forth through the giant space.

He shakes himself off as soon as he is saftley shielded under the awning. An officer is standing near the hanger door smoking a cigarette as Gale walks in “Sure is raining cats and dogs today” he says absentmindedly before taking a drag “You know what they say, when it rains it pours” Gale shoots back as he walks to the rear of the hanger. He heads to his locker there and removes his pilot jacket and cap hanging them inside.

Several officers are sitting at a table nearby reading news papers and listening to the radio. All the news papers have catastrophic titles about the war plastered in capitol letters across their front pages, more alarming is the radio loudly blaring information about all the recent bombing raids and attacks occurring.

Gale had been moved from his home base to this training station for 12 weeks now. It was imminent that he and his men were going to war, flying directly to Germany in the coming weeks.

A drill sergeant enters the opposite end of the hanger with a messenger bag he begins yelling the names of several officers until shouting:

“MAJOR CLEVEN GALE”

When Gale hears his name he heads over and collects his stack of letters. Each time he receives mail he hunts through the stack for your letter first, each time his heart drops dismayed not to hear the news that you are pregnant but happy you are doing well.

He walks back over to an empty table near the officers reading the news papers. He shuffles the letters in his hand one by one until he stops on the one with your handwriting his heart skips and he hurriedly sits down dropping his stack of mail infront of him on the table.

He flips your letter over and breaks the seal with his finger ripping it open sliding out and unfolding the piece of paper to read:

_________________________________________________

-Dearest husband,

Here I am darling, I cooked one of your favorite meals tonight, sundried tomato sauce with spaghetti pasta just the way you like it with lots of parmesan on all the meatballs. I can’t wait to cook for you again. I hope you are eating well you must keep your strength.

I miss the sound of your voice and wonder when you’ll return home to me. With just myself here I often think of what you do in your down time. I believe the only thing that compares to the happiness of holding you in my arms again is holding a little bundle of joy. I am writing this time to tell you that you’ll be a father. I am 18 weeks pregnant. Today is the first day the doctor heard the tiny heartbeat and I’m finally beginning to show, I know this means the world to you.

Sending all my lov - - - -

———————————————————————————

Gale doesn’t finish the letter he stands straight up and yells “IM GOING TO BE A FATHER BOYS !” The hanger erupts with loud cheers of all the men whooping and clapping for him. The men in his unit come running and jump on him hugging him slapping his back and congratulating him.

They all begin chanting “FURLOUGH FURLOUGH FURLOUGH ” he yells back “IM CHECKING OUT BOYS!” And starts running to his superiors office to request his furlough to come and see his woman pregnant with his child before he leaves to war.

Constant Cravings

It’s been two days since you wrote the news to Gale that you were expecting. It was already late in the evening, the mailman didn’t have any letters from the military base but you did receive letters from your friends and congratulatory flowers from your parents.

You stare out the window thinking of him wondering if he’s alright, wondering if he even knows. You place your hand on your belly feeling the now firmer underside swelling where the little baby is nestled, you rest your hand there lovingly.

You turn and head to the kitchen still feeling so famished after dinner the only thing you craved were spaghetti and meatballs you were cooking them constantly especially the meatballs with parmesan all over them you couldn’t get enough. You decide that’s what you wanted to eat again.

You bring the skillet out and place it on the counter next to the stove. You strike a match and place it to the igniter, a ring of fire flicks to life under the burner and you place the skillet on top. You pull the container of meat balls you’ve prepared for tomorrow out of the refrigerator and pour olive oil on the skillet before placing them on the hot oiled surface to cook .

You bring out the cutting board, the big wheel of parmesan cheese, and grater. You take a knife and cut a large slice of the Parmesan off returning the rest of the wheel back in the refrigerator and quickly check the meatballs turning them over with a spatula to cook evenly.

You then cut off a few thin pieces of parmesan cheese from the large slice to eat for yourself. You irresistibly pick one up and place it in your mouth on your tongue. It melts deliciously and you savor it before taking another piece and then just one more you crave the saltiness and the texture so much. You turn to check the meat balls they are golden brown you click off the fire.

You finely grate the remaining Parmesan into powder. You rinse off the cheese grater and cutting board setting them in the drying rack.

You set out a plate on the counter and transfer the meatballs over to it from the skillet placing the heavy cast iron into the sink to wash later.

You cover the meatballs in a large mountain of powdered Parmesan snow. When all is complete you stare at them proud of yourself and excited to eat what you crave the most.

You hear the sound of a car pulling up at this late hour the lights from the head beams flashing through the living room. Your brows furrow wondering who it could be you head to the living room looking at the front door when the sudden sound of a key sliding in the lock surprises you.

Your heart stops you stand frozen as the door opens and you blink in disbelief as Gale steps in. He is in uniform wearing his heavy leather brown and black fur lapel jacket. His thick blonde hair slicked with product but still strands fall perfectly against his forehead. He looks stunningly handsome you haven’t laid eyes on him in so long it takes your breath away. His flushed red cheeks and luscious pink lips form into a grin as his striking blue eyes light up with joy upon seeing you.

“C’mere baby” he says with his deep drawl arms open as you come wrapping you tightly in his embrace. He pets your head and kisses the top lovingly, your soft feminine scent driving him wild after being away from you for 3 months.

He’s holding you firm against his chest as you inhale him, he smells like rain and leather and birch bark soap relaxing you instantly making you feel safe in his arms. “I missed you so much Gale” your words softly muffle against his chest. “I missed you too doll “ he says tipping your chin up with his thumb and forefinger to look up at him. You gaze deeply into those big beautiful blue eyes staring right back into yours with all the love and tenderness in the world.

“Kiss me Ga...” you start to say his name as he’s already pressing his soft pink lips against yours. As your eyes flutter closed you feel the sexual charge in him as he’s pushing his lips more passionately against yours. You part your lips wider onto his licking at his tongue coaxing it out, he makes a small moan as he slides it in to taste your sweet mouth.

The sensations of your tongues twirling tantalizes his cock, his length already hardening as he knits his brows wanting to kiss you more but also knowing he needs to come up for air and tell you his news.

He releases you from his kiss and you stare at each other a little out of breath “I got your letter“ he says forming a grin from ear to ear across his handsome face. “They granted me furlough I’ll be here with you all week” you shriek in excitement “I’m so happy you’ll be home with me Gale!” You say cupping his handsome face in your hands.

“ Now…” he says stepping back “let me see my little bun” his eyes are dancing wildly as he peeks down at your stomach unable to contain his excitement any longer. You giggle at the nick-name “here’s your little bun” you say presenting your small round forming pregnancy to him.

A proud smile forms on his face and he immediately kneels down before you, finally reaching his large hand and placing it on your small baby bump. It warms his hand to the touch and melts his heart completely. He carefully places his ear against your womb and closes his eyes.

You look down at him and smile warmly, he’s crouched into you as he kneels because he’s so tall. You place your hand on his head lovingly and stroke your fingers through his gorgeous golden locks. He’s in bliss caressing your womb and whispering to the baby to grow strong for him. He kisses your naval and finally stands up tall gently pulling you to him by your waist.

“I’m so proud of you” he says planting a kiss on your lips “and I love you so much ” he says squeezing your waist on his last word, he stares into your eyes with complete devotion. “I love you too Gale” you say sincerely and place your hand on his chest over his heart as you gaze into each others eye.

Suddenly you remember the task you were performing before he surprised you “Come Gale, I made a little something we can eat, I was so hungry after dinner..I am always hungry now…” you trail off slightly shy to admit. Hes just pinches your cheek adoringly knowing your eating for two. He removes his jacket placing it on the rack near the door and takes your hand as you walk him to the kitchen.

The meatballs are sitting on the countertop in perfect display looking like a photo straight out of ‘The Housewife Magazine’. “I miss this so much” he says wrapping his arms around you from behind pressing his chest to your back and kissing the top of your head. You hold the front of his forearms wrapped around you as an idea forms in your mind.

“What if we eat the in the living room? No silverware, no plates just with our fingers “ you say giddily just wanting devour the meatballs as fast as humanly possible. “Sure thing sweetheart, why don’t you go sit and I’ll bring them over to you ” he says. You agree with a nod and he goes to wash his hands in the sink taking the plate on his way back bringing the meatballs to the living room coffee table.

You sit comfortably on the couch but instead of sitting next to you he kneels in front of you on the living room rug. With the coffee table on his right he turns to pick up a meatball from the pile on the plate and brings it to your mouth. You eat it from his fingers “Mmm” you say enjoying it. He brings you another as you finish chewing the first and then another.

You gently roll your eyes into your head the seasonings the cheesiness the saltiness satisfying the yearning from your stomach completely. He stares at you lovingly knowing that as he’s feeding you it’s for his baby too.

Hes always hungry for your food the meatballs smell delicious he tilts his head up and tosses one in his mouth. The ground meat you used is so succulent he eats several more. You lean forward opening your mouth and he feeds you the last one, the plate now completely empty.

You sit back with a smile on your face and pat your hand on your stomach “Thank you for feeding me Gale that was so unexpectedly sweet“ you say grinning cutely. It reminds him of his present. “I have a surprise for you!” He says squeezing your thigh lovingly as he stands. He takes the dish to the sink and grabs his keys from his jacket heading out to the car to retrieve it.

He returns a moment later carrying a giant teddy bear and a bouquet of roses. Your eyes light up it’s such a beautiful sight to see and he’s so romantic. He shuts the front door with his elbow and smiles as he walks over and kneels infront of you. “For my special girl” he says handing you the large bouquet, “Thank you Gale” your voice high and sweet as you place your hand on your heart to show appreciation.

You accept them and lift the flowers up to your nose instantly getting lost in the powerful scent of fresh red roses. “And for my little bun” he says placing the large teddy bear next to you on the couch. You giggle at the nickname again. He just stares at you now seeing how completely happy you are in this moment.

He places his hand briefly on your knee “I’ll put them in a vase for you ” he says gesturing as you hand over the roses. He heads to the kitchen unwrapping them, finding and filling a clear blue bubbled glass vase.

Placing the roses inside he sits back admiring his work. “Where would you like them” he asks. “There on the table is perfectly fine…” you say absentmindedly staring at the brown crushed velvet teddy bear with a big red silk ribbon on its neck. The first toy you’ve received for your ‘little bun’ is making you emotional.

“Honey how would you like to turn in with me for the night? I’ll shower and we’ll lay together in bed I need to hold you I’ve been missing sleeping with you so much”

“Oh Gale of course” you say realizing he’s been out all day on such a journey to get here and he’s probably so tired.

He comes over and offers you his arm helping you to stand you smile appreciatively. He wraps his arm around yours placing his hand on top walking down the hall to the master bedroom.

Lucky Lightening

He enters with you and gently releases your arm to begin unbutttoning the tight collar of his military shirt, you see him struggling with it as usual and tip toe up against him helping him pry it open. As it unbuttons he breathes a sigh of relief “What would I do without you?” he says flashing a flirtatious grin.

You trail your fingers seductively up his firm chest “You would handle it like the strong capable Major I know you that you are, but Im happy I can be here to assist you” you peek up at him through your lashes and he quickly captures his lips with yours thoroughly enjoying the compliment you gave him.

He pulls back to look you in the eyes “My favorite girl in the whole world” he says and quickly unbuttons down the length of his shirt, he smiles at you appreciatively before heading to the shower. You hear the water turn on through the closed door as you make your way to the vanity table across the room.

You slide your dress off with your brassiere and panties tossing them in the hamper. You grab your soft silk robe from its hook near the vanity placing your arms in leaving the front open loosly tied.

You look at all your creams neatly organized and pick the one labeled vitamin E opening the lid and collecting the cream on your fingers slowly lathering your abdomen. As you are massaging the cream on you stare at your reflection, the glow of the low lighting makes you look radiant you turn to the side wondering how big your belly will get.

You hear the shower turn off and Gale brushing his teeth you smile enjoying the sounds of having him back home. You finish rubbing in the cream sealing the lid as he emerges into the bedroom clicking off the light. The scent of his fresh pine birch soap fills the bedroom he smells wonderful.

You peek over at him, blonde hair slicked back dark and damp, shirtless with strong chiseled arms and perfect pecs twiddling down to that tiny waist of his with his tight abs, he’s wearing only his woven boxer shorts.

He notices you admiring him and comes closer approaching you from behind in the reflection of the vanity mirror. He immediately unties your silk robe and slides his hands down around your tiny baby bump. He kisses your ear as he stands behind you inhaling your scent, you smell much sweeter than he remembers and he’s enthralled by it.

He continues his kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder enjoying every touch of his lips to your delicate skin, silently obsessing knowing you are carrying his child.

He stares up at the reflection of you together his hands never leaving your womb. His voice rich and deep breaking the silent moment as he locks eyes with you.

“Can't wait till everyone sees how pretty you're gonna look all big and round” he says running his hands over the front of you. His lips fanning your ear “Everyone knowing you're my girl, the love of my life and that you're carrying my child inside of you …" he trails off unable to contain his arousal for you any longer.

His lips part against your skin as he licks and sucks his kisses onto your neck his large hands reaching and cupping your breasts gently squeezing them. They are so sensitive you part your lips and let out a soft moan.

He leans in again whispering softly against your ear “I can't believe I knocked up a pretty little thing like you.” Your eyes flutter shut as you are wet with arousal remembering how much you truly enjoy the feel of his cock inside you.

He turns you around pulling you to him pressing his hard length into your thigh kissing you slowly as he walks you backwards to the bed. He helps you disrobe and lays you down softly in the center. He places his hands on the soft inner flesh of your thighs and spreads them apart.

He pulls his boxer shorts off and locks eyes with you, holding the base of his cock in his right hand he presses the head on to your clitoris earning a beautiful moan out of you. He slides his cock head down your slick wet folds to your entrance and shoves himself home. His plump mouth opens and his cheeks flush red as he fills you up to the hilt.

His breaths are short and shallow as his swollen cock sinks in and slides out of you. His desperate loud moans begin filling the room unable to contain himself not having you for so long. He breathes out as he buries his full length into you pulling halfway out before plunging all the way back in, his hips smacking in a rhythm with yours. You moan in time with each thrust feeling like you will come apart at any second.

He quickens his pace pulling himself deeper into you with momentum. His hip movements strong and deliberate clapping against you as his cock head hits your cervix deep inside each time. His eyes dark and full of unbridled passion as they look into yours.

It’s all powerfully overwhelming: the way he stares, the way he thrusts into you hitting that perfect place, and the way that you just miss him so much, your body tenses and then trembles as you orgasm for him, waves of pleasure washing over you as your walls flutter tightly around him and you moan out his name, you can see in his eyes he felt you come undone, his release immediately following yours.

His hips jolt forward snapping into you as his body tenses and his cock throbs inside of you releasing all of his semen. You gasp and moan together from the feeling as he pumps his final thrusts into you.

He stills himself breathing heavily over you as you both come down from your highs. After a moment he gently slides himself out and falls back to the bed his chest rising and falling. You both stare up at the ceiling together panting slowly your faces displaying a mix of awe and satisfaction. Your minds both high swirling with serotonin thinking about what just happened. Your breaths finally calm as you lay next to each other. Gale already deep in thought.

“It’s kind of beautiful how I realized you were pregnant.” He says feeling a sudden clarity in his mind. “It was a real stormy night on the base, winds were whipping wildy. I was laying there and It was pitch black in the bunker after lights out. So I reached in my rucksack near my cot in the secret pocket and pulled out your panties.

“GALE YOU DID NOT !” You say in shock sitting up to stare at him “Yes I did” he says chuckling.

“Major Gale Cleven you are *such* a naughty boy!” You say grinning and lightly spanking him on his firm muscled shoulder. He quickly grabs your wrist pulling it over to settle you “cmon you gotta let me finish it gets really good” he says with a grin placing your hand on his solid chest.

“Alright tell me how you knew” you ask, scooting into place resting your head on his firm bicep. He places his hand down on your hip giving it a light squeeze pulling you against him.

“Well If the boys ever find your panties in my things I’ll never hear the end of that ” he cracks up.

“But as I was saying it was a real stormy night, everything on the base was jumping and creaking I couldn’t sleep a lick. So I lay there with your panties hidden under my hand flat against my chest just grounding me, cause I’m missing you every second im out there. I empty my head of all thoughts I was having except for being home with you and I guess it worked because I drifted to sleep and started dreaming.

I was back here at the house and you were just over there across the hall in our guest room. It was turned into a nursery just like we plan. I was resting with my elbow against the the doorframe peeking in you were infront of the nursery cot the baby was laying inside. You kneeled down to pick something up that fell and I saw that tiny little hand just reaching up for you over the rim of that cot and my eyes went wide it just knocked the wind out of me, you stood up blocking my view and trust me I was trying real hard to see that baby.

Thats when the loud hurricane alarms started blaring all over the base waking me and all the men up we prepared the base hunkering down and that wind ripped through so hard that night but the hurricane passed us right by. As it all died down we headed back to our cots everyone else cranky and tired but not me I had the biggest smile on my face, because all the times I dreamt of you that was the first time that you had the baby.

You take a moment to absorb all that he said.

“ Gale…that’s such a beautiful dream” you say overwhelmed with sentiment your heart swelling. You love this man so much you can’t even form the words to appreciate him.

“ I love you a Gale” is all you can think to say

“ I love you too ” he says tucking his chin down to peek over at you smiling. He reaches his long arm over and clicks off the light. You two shrouded in darkness hearing the soft patters of rain starting outside. “Mmm look at that the storm followed me home “ he says jokingly. “Oh I forgot to tell you the best part, that day I got your letter my craft was almost struck by lighting as I landed” he says casually.

Your eyes grow wide “ Gale that’s terrifying!” you say “ No no not for me that’ll always be a good luck sign because it was a surprise, just like finding out I’m going to be a father from your letter.”

He pulls you up higher on his bicep and plants several loving kisses on your forehead before caressing your jaw. He rubs his thumb playfully over your lips to make smile and you do. “Good night sweet heart” he says eyes heavy “Good night Gale” you say snuggling up on him. He places his large hand on your tiny baby bump “good night little bun” he smiles to himself closing his eyes. You stay awake a moment longer listening to his breathing change as he falls soundly asleep, you feel his calming heartbeat under your hand placed on his chest. You move it to place on top of his hand holding your baby bump. Feeling perfectly complete, you close your eyes and drift of to sleep.

~*End*~

Tags: @jessica987

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