#fluff a-z

[spencereidluver]

L is for Lover Boy

december 14, 2008

summary:  After you have to drive back to your apartment for the third time in two days to get stuff, Spencer clears out two drawers in his dresser for you while you're gone and can't wait to show you.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: just lots of fluff and spence being a good bf

“No, don’t go,” Spencer says as he gently claws at your hips trying to pull you back into him. You were cuddled up with him on the sofa in his living room watching some documentary he’d put on. This was your third day at Spencer’s house, having come over Friday after work and spending the night, then being begged not to leave, so after paying a quick visit to your home in order to get a toothbrush, clothes, and anything else your heart desired, you returned to Spencer’s apartment for a second night. 

“Spencer, baby, I have to,” you try to pry his hands from your hips, though he is a lot stronger than he looks. He gets a hold of you, pulling you onto his lap. He starts to tickle your ribs, making you hunch over him. You try to push his hands away, but ultimately fail as you yell his name between giggles.

“Stay and I’ll stop,” he smiles into your neck. 

“One more night,” you say and grab his wrists in order to calm his movements. “But I have to go home and get work clothes, so let me go.”

He pouts, but obliges. It’s so hard to tell such a sweet boy no, plus falling asleep in his arms every night is something you could see yourself getting used to.

“Fine, but hurry. I want to cuddle,” he sighs.

You lean down, planting a kiss on his forehead and fluffing his hair with your fingers. “I love you, Spencie,” you say. “I love you.”

You trudge to the door of his apartment, slipping your shoes and coat on and grabbing your keys. “I’ll be back,” you call out to Spencer before you exit the apartment and make your way to the stairs and out to your car.

_____

At your apartment, you grabbed the one clean work outfit you still had and tossed it over your shoulder. You’d been at Spencer’s place so much recently you hadn’t done laundry in weeks. He was gonna be sad when you broke the news that tonight was the last night. For now anyways. You loved staying with Spencer… The only issue was all your stuff was at your house. 

You studied the walls of your apartment. How was it that a place you’d been so comfortable in for so long had become barren? How was it that Spencer’s presence is truly what made you feel at home? You neared the entryway of your unit, letting your fingers track on the surface of the wooden table to the side of the door. You brought your hand up to your eye level: Dust. Your apartment had sat empty for so long that even the most communal surfaces had become neglected. Normally you’d stop to wipe the dust clean, but right now, all that was filling your consciousness was returning to Spencer. You grabbed the pack of gum off the dust-covered table and clenched your keys in your fist. You rush out the door of your apartment and head straight for the elevator. 

_____

You’re practically tripping over your own feet as you rush back into Spencer’s apartment complex. You take the stairs as you don’t see waiting on the elevator as time efficient since you’re only going up to the second floor. As you approach his unit, you slow your steps, careful not to alarm any of the tenets. You reach his door, shuffling the items in your hands in order to knock. Two hits of your fist on the wood and the golden number “twenty-three” is replaced by a smiling Spencer Reid. 

“Hey Spence,” you say, handing over the bag in your arms as he’d grabbed the strap, signaling he wanted to take it from you. He was always chivalrous: opening doors, wrapping you in his sweaters, buying you flowers, and this was another example of such. He always carried your bag for you, even if he had his own. If there was anything Spencer could do to make your day the slightest bit simpler, he was jumping to it. His world revolved around making you happy. And he did a damn good job of it. 

“Hi, how was your apartment?” He asked as he stepped aside so you could enter his. He followed you, shutting the door and turning the lock behind him. 

“It was alright,” you said. “Just how I left it.” You watched as he placed your bag gently on the counter. He was always extremely gentle with your things, even if he didn’t need to be. He cared as much for your things as he did for you, and treated all things, great or small, as if they were as delicate as his love for you. 

“That’s good, I’m glad no one had intruded in your absence.” He turned his attention away from the direction of the counter and toward you. His eyes focused on your face, studying you. “Hey, I want to show you something,” he said as he brought his hand up to meet your waist. He pulled you into a hug, letting his hands linger on you after you’d pulled back. He stared at you for a moment before pulling you back into him, his lips crashing into yours. The kiss was rough- like getting hit by a bus. A very pleasant bus, but a bus nonetheless. His hands gripped on your waist, surely leaving marks, as his lips moved feverishly into yours. 

You giggled into his kiss, pushing him away gently by his chest. He gives a small pout which makes you feel a bit bad, so you lean to give him one last small peck. He smiles. 

“Sorry,” he says, his cheeks forming a light blush, “I just love you.” His hands fall from your waist. He shuffles to the front of you, grabbing your hand and pulling you behind him as he leads you to his bedroom. 

“I love you, Spence,” you say while trailing behind him. “So much. Now, what are you showing me?” He drops your hand as you enter his room, moving it to the small of your back and giving you a slight shove in the direction of one of his closet.

Spencer’s closet was a small room jutting out of the wall adjacent to the door. In it was a six drawer chest, a floor mirror, and a horizontal rod that harbored his polo shirts, sweaters, and suit jackets. In front of the mirror sat his three pairs of shoes- his black converse, his brown leather dress shoes, and his black suede dress shoes. Typically, his converse were just thrown in front, as they were his most common choice and he didn’t see the effort to put them back nicely every single time was worth it. You took notice of the fact that they were set up nicely like the two pairs of dress shoes, him even having tied them to make it more visually appealing. You also noticed the knickknacks he had atop his dresser had been rearranged, and some books had been relocated from somewhere. 

“You cleaned your closet!” you said, reaching out to fondle the Curta calculator that was placed on the edge of the dresser. 

“I did,” he responded, still having ahold of your back. “Open the bottom drawers.” 

You were a bit confused. Why was he giving you a closet tour? What could possibly be so intriguing about the contents of these drawers that he had to give you the rundown? You obliged nonetheless, partially because you were curious, but mostly because you could sense his excitement and knew this was a big thing for him. 

Leaning down to grab the parallel knobs on the very bottom drawer, you braced for something slightly heavy, a wooden drawer filled with clothing, but were taken aback when the drawer practically flew open. It was empty. You were confused. Was he getting a head start on spring cleaning? Maybe you just opened the wrong drawer. You silently opened the next drawer up, it being empty as well.

You stood and faced Spencer who had a big goofy grin on his face. You furrowed your brows at him, softening your voice to say, “I’m confused.”

“It's for you,” he said, still with his dorky smile. “I just thought, since you’ve been staying here so often, and I really hate to have you traveling to and from your apartment for five minutes every other day, maybe you could store some of your clothes and things here.”

“Spencer, I-”

You must’ve had a passive tone because his smile faded as the words fell out your mouth.

“I-if you don’t want to then I understand, I know we really just started dating and rushing things is statistically bad for relationships, and I’m n-not saying you should move in with me, I just-”

“Spencer,” you interrupted him, desperate to save him from his pointless embarrassment. His eyes are wide as he looks down at you, almost as if he’s pleading. “Spence, this is so sweet,” you say, “it’s perfect.”

His smile, though more calm this time, returns. “Really?” he asks.

“Really. Such a good idea too.” You ruffle his hair. “I love you.”

His smile widens, his eyes squinting from the contortion of his cheeks. 

He can barely spit out an “I love you too,” before his expression changes to one of remembrance. 

“Oh!” he exclaims, “I also took my books out of this nightstand, you can put stuff in there too.” He gestured to the nightstand on the closet side- the right side- your side- of the bed.

‘That’s where those books on the dresser came from,’ you thought to yourself. You glance at the bed, noticing that he’d not only done your laundry, but also folded your clothes and separated them by outfits for you. 

“Wow,” you say as your hand grazes the fabric of the folded clothing, “you really didn’t have to do all this, Spencer.”

“I know,” he said, “but I wanted to.” He picks up one of the stacks of your clothing off the bed and carries it the few steps to the closet. “You want to go ahead and put these in here?” He gestures toward the dresser.

“Sure, these can be my ‘Spencer’ clothes!” 

He giggles at your little pun. That was something you loved about Spencer; no matter how bad a joke you made was, he always laughed. Maybe he was just being nice, but it made you feel good, so you weren’t complaining.

_____

You awoke before Spencer for the first time since you’ve been staying over. 

‘Doing all that rearranging last night must’ve really knocked him out,’ you thought.

You lied still in his embrace, careful not to move a muscle. He was lying on his back, left arm tucked underneath you, right draped across your waist. You lied on your stomach, left leg wrapped around his hips, the other down parallel to his. Your head rested on his chest allowing you to hear every breath taken by him. You were worried if you moved even a tiny bit it would stir him awake and this would end. You were far too comfortable in his arms and with your thoughts to do such a thing. 

Unintentionally, you found yourself matching his breathing patterns. You found yourself unintentionally matching a lot of Spencer’s mannerisms as of recently. Granted, you spent almost all your time with him, but you could never have ‘too much’ Spencer Reid. You thought about what he said last night: “I know we really just started dating.” While technically he was correct, it had only been three months since your first date, and a little over two since you guys had become official, it felt like a lifetime with him. Maybe this was because you were just as close before, the only difference now being that you kiss. Sometimes you have to remind yourself this is his first relationship. You’d be lying if you didn’t say you were weary to begin the relationship at first, though now you’re more than happy you did. Spencer has been the best decision of your life. Turning him from your nerdy best friend to the love of your life has been the best decision. He was perfect. 

Spencer stirred beneath you, rolling over and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You reached your hand up, tangling it in his hair, and gently ran your nails through his scalp. He brought his knees up toward his chest, now lying in a loose fetal position with his legs tucked into the gap yours left. He was like a baby. Your baby. 

You could hear his breath getting caught in his throat as his body fought to stay asleep. 

“Hey,” you whispered softly into his ear as you let your hand trace down his hairline to cup his jaw. He gave you a small groan in response, being awake but not yet conscious. 

“Spence baby,” you hummed. You tilted his face up toward you while rubbing your thumb back and forth on his sharp jawline. You pressed several small kisses on his forehead. From the way he was leaning into you, it was obvious he was awake. You looked down at him, his eyes still shut.

“G’morning,” Spencer mumbled as his eyes fluttered open and met yours. 

“How’d you sleep?” You brushed a stray piece of hair from in front of his eyes.

“Pretty good. I uh, I had a dream about you.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. We were just reading. You know, actually they say when you dream of your partner it means you’re wanting to spend more time with them, which is strange because aside from when you went home for an hour last night we’ve been together for the past 56 hours with no cases as a distraction. That’s the longest time we’ve been together.”

Only Spencer could wake up and immediately start sharing facts.

“Maybe it means you enjoyed the last 56 hours and wish for them to continue, rather than for them to come into existence since they already have.”

He smiles at you, in awe. “That- that’s a really good point.” “You’re not the only smart one, Dr. Reid.” You boop his nose to acknowledge that you’re teasing him. Spencer sometimes struggles with social cues; it doesn’t take a genius to know that. You always try your hardest to do something to let him know you’re just teasing. 

He’s still smiling. “Y/n, you never fail to amaze me.” 

His eyes sparkle in the light. More than usual. A tear falls from his left eye. He’s crying.

You wipe the tear away and grab his chin, lifting up toward you. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask, using your soft voice again. Another set of tears falls from his eyes.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” he said, “I just…” His voice hitched. Tears stream down his face seemingly uncontrollably. “I just love you so much, Y/n.”

“I love you, Spencer.” You say earnestly, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on his salty, tear soaked, lips. He melted into the kiss instantly, chasing your lips as you pulled away. 

“Please, Y/n. Kiss me,” he said, sitting up to allow easier access. You sat up as well, criss-crossing your legs in front of you to match Spencer. You lean forward, grabbing ahold of his thighs to keep yourself from face planting into him. He doesn’t waste a second before he’s pressing his lips onto yours. You taste his tears with every opening of your mouth. He still has morning breath, you know you do too, but that taste belongs to what you call home. This boy, this bed, this room, this apartment; it's your home.

_____

next chapter: M is for Merry Christmas

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

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a/n: hi! long time no see... i'm really sorry for my unannounced absence :( i got really busy with school and work and just had a major burnout. i'm really gonna try to push some stories out for you guys as i really do enjoy writing them and seeing your guys' reaction to them. thank you guys for sticking with me

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

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taglist: @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology @navs-bhat @sammy-4103 @ada--44 @moongirl27

@hopelessheaven @shycreationdreamland @cultish-corner @violetvsworld @ivyflowers13 @taygrls

@hookergutss @random-3455 @nmw-am @bookworm124 @hizzielover @jem08

@princessbowbaby @theofficialfunk @skylions-den @smalltownbeautyqueen @spencereidapologist @lunajay33

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@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @guacam011y @super-nerd22

[thepersonnamedsam]

grin to win - the genz!driver

pairing: the genz!driver x 24!grid (pre and during singapore)

summary: it’s the gzd first ever win, but getting there was a bumpy road

word count: 4.3k

warning: not proof read and some angst, talks about not feeling enough and all that

note: i am so sorry for not having updated in such a long time, i do hope you still like my stuff :)

masterlist / taglist

it has been weeks since our beloved gen-z driver has had a positive experience. silly season started earlier than she thought - daniel was rumoured to be dropped soon. max hasn’t won for a long time, she wasn’t sure if that’s positive or negative, but she feels sorry for her favourite dutch. carlos finally announced he’s signed with williams.

oh, and logan’s been dropped.

oliver is driving for haas next year. mclaren overtook redbull in the constructors championship. lando has started his transition to mad-lando (get it? because he’s starting to drive like mad-max? anyway). kimi signed with mercedes.

but there weren’t any news surrounding y/n. nothing negative, but also nothing positive. no rumours of her signing with a new team, or staying at her current team. her contract will run out at the end of the season.

she hasn’t heard from her team ceo or principal yet. she wasn’t underperforming, no she’s just performing as expected. but also not doing better.

she needed that something. that something that reassured her, that she’s in the right place. she needed at least a podium this season. that’s what she was telling herself for the last weeks. beating herself up, every time she didn’t perform well enough (in her eyes, we have to say. because if you looked at it from a neutral view, she was doing more than fine).

the stress has been eating her up. she was staying longer at the gym, eating less, seeing the guys less, not seeing her friends or family. even her boyfriend broke up with her, because she’s been ignoring him and focusing too much on her racing.

lewis was the first one to suspect something, knowing this behaviour all to well from himself. but he didn’t know what to do. should he ask her about it or say something to someone professional?

the first thing he did was tell george. george usually knew what to do. except this time.

„lew, im sorry man, i don’t know what do do“, he sighed and looked over to his teammate. „we could just tell the principal, but i don’t know if we‘ll brake her trust this way.“

„she just needs to see, that she’s good enough, i know that that’s the issue she’s having right now“, said lewis to george.

the taller one just shrugged, „maybe we should just, you know, talk to her“, he suggested.

lewis agreed, but he was sure, that he was the wrong person to talk to y/n. that’s why he called seb.

and as her phone started to ring and her favourite picture of her and seb appeared on her screen, she instantly knew, that someone noticed her weird behaviour. why else would sebastian call during race week?

with a heavy sigh she picked up her phone and tried to sound as happy as possible as she said: „hi seb! what’s going on?“

the german scrunched up his face as he heard the rather happy voice of the young girl. „hi there, pretty lady. i heard you’ve been absent lately“, he said softly.

the moment y/n heard her current situation from someone else, her tears fell. she didn’t think that it’d effect her this much, someone knowing what’s been going on lately, but it did.

„how do you know?“, she sniffled. her cries broke sebs heart, he could only imagine how his daughter’s future teenage cries would take him out.

„a birdie noticed and told me, hun.“ - „who was it? tell me it wasn’t my ex, because that bloody pig told me, if i couldn’t care enough about him, he wouldn’t care about me and if he called you, that means he’d still care about me and that would only make me feel more guilt over the whole situation“, y/n started to ramble.

„hey hey, no, it wasn’t him“, seb stopped her rambling. „i won’t tell you who, im just gonna tell you, as someone standing on the sidelines, you’re doing more than fine, okay?“

she shook her head no, even though the retired driver couldn’t see her. „no im not, everybody’s getting to sign their new contract or has been rumoured to be let go, but nothings happening with me“, she sighed.

seb told her, that this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, that teams usually like to torture their drivers to see how far they’re willing to push. and that she just had to let the team get to her and not assume anything.

„but what if it’s like the situation with daniel? or logan? what if it’s the same with me?“

„then so be it, you can come to switzerland for a few weeks, we‘ll forget the whole thing and organise something new, it’s as easy as that“, seb told her.

„and honestly, y/n, you’re not being dropped, or rumours would have already been going around. as i said, just go with the flow.“

that’s what she tried. she tried to engage more with the other drivers. she tried to enjoy little things like eating chocolate.

she started to regularly talk with seb and talk about her feelings and worries - which helped her a lot.

and as time flew by, she got back into her zone. back into that racing mode, back into the fight.

it was singapore, hot and humid, but she was ready to fight. right before qualifying lewis visited her garage. looking relieved to see her spirits back where they belong.

„kiddo, you ready?“, he asked. y/n grinned at him and threw two thumps up. „good“, he murmured.

„good luck!“, he shouted. „you too, you’re gonna need it with my pace“, she laughed back.

„i hope so“, whispered the mercedes driver. „i really hope so.“

y/n sat in her car, she felt that something good would be happening. she never felt this ready for qualifying before.

q1 and q2 went by as a breeze. her lap times were phenomenal, she’s done better, but they were still great. easing into q3 with a good feeling and good lap times.

„y/n, you’ve been doing great out there, don’t push yourself too much, okay? i’ll tell you when to give it your all. we’re going for the front row“, her race engineer told her.

front row, that was really something.

„you think we can do it?“, she asked nervously. „i think that you can do it.“

with that statement she drove out of the garage onto the track. driving some laps to warm up her tyres. feeling the track and the car. she took a deep breath in and let it out and waited for her race engineer to giver her their sign.

tears stained her cheeks as she got out of the car. everything was blurry. confusion was written on her face. qualifying just ended and she will start the race from p2 on sunday.

she couldn’t believe it, neither could her team or to be honest, every other driver on the grid.

journalist started to surround the garage, friends of the young girl had trouble getting to her. the first one who made it through the masses, was oscar.

as soon as she saw him, she started screaming; „oscar! can you believe it?“

the aussy looked at the girl, or rather young woman, and only grinned at her. „you’re giving me the creeps with that smile, os“, y/n giggled. „you look like the joker, who are you about to murder?“

„the one who’s been making you feel worthless, but that’s a different story“, he half whispered half sighed.

the young driver had to sigh, she knew the other drivers had caught on her emotions. but she didn’t think, that they’d know in this detail.

y/n grinned through the pang and hugged the australian. „thanks for being there for me“, she whispered.

the moment oscar wanted to say something sentimental, his teammate barged through the journalists and jumped on them both.

„i cannot believe it! my best friend, starting front row, my goodness“, he exhaled and inhaled again: „together! we’re starting front row together!“

y/n giggled once again, she felt, that this wasn’t the last giggle of the day. „will you let me pass?“, she asked jokingly.

lando looked shocked: „are you kidding me? nuh-uh, no way in hell will i let you pass, now that im a race winner, you’ll have to earn it fair and square!“

„fair“, oscar laughed. y/n shoved oscar outraged. „you’re on his side?“ - „i am a race winner too, you know?“

„indeed he is“, carlos called from the end of the garage. „oi, this isn’t your garage“, a mechanic of her team shouted, „this isn’t all of you guys‘ garage“, he said, as he realised two more drivers were present.

„let’s go, we‘re going to some hospitality or something“, y/n suggested. with an apologetic look towards the mechanics, the drivers left the garage.

„i’ll update the groupchat and tell them where we are“, lando mumbled. oscar’s and carlos‘ phone dinged, but y/n‘s was left out.

„wait, what groupchat did you text?“, she asked confused. „the one about you’re crisis-“ lando just saw carlos‘ and oscar’s head shacking no, as he slowly finished his sentence, realising his mistake, „-without you in it.“

„what?“ - „lewis and seb created a groupchat, to discuss some tips on how to lift your spirits, s‘all“, oscar slowly explained.

„okay“, said the female driver slowly. „thanks, i guess?“

„wait, so you all knew? i mean i kind of suspected you knowing, but you all knew? and what did you discuss?“

the three drivers thought carefully about their next words. carlos was the first to speak out: „nothing really. lewis just told us, that your behaviour reminded him of himself when he first joined mercedes and seb just told us, that he was talking with you about it and just kind of updated us.“

„y/n you’re very important to all of us, we love you and want you to be well. if somethings going on, we worry about you and want to fix it“, oscar supplemented.

„why didn’t you tell us?“ lando was the last to speak. his voice full of hurt. „oh lando, im sorry, i didn’t want to bother all of you with my shit“, she admitted.

daniel could see the falling tears on her face from far away. he could also see the many cameras realising their existence. he sprinted over to the four, to mainly shield them from the media, but his weird running drew more attention to the drivers.

„hi there, don’t cry, cameras“, he huffed. the little smile came back to y/n‘s face, as she looked at daniel’s red and out of breath face.

„hey i thought you were a high performance athlete?“, she smiled and wiped away her tears. „i am, athletes sweat, baby“, daniel said.

„i heard that that’s your last race, is it true, danny?“, she changed the topic from herself to the smiley australian.

„don’t change the topic, girly“, he smiled sincerely. „there’s no truth, until you get that breaking post on insta.“

„hey, but front row, huh? how nice does it feel?“, he asked her. still on the move, she nearly tripped, not only over her next sentence, but also over a curb; „very good but also kinda scary.“

„i got lando here in front of me and max behind me, just a little bit scary“, she elaborated further.

at the mention of the dutch, he appeared in front of the group suddenly. „i heard my name, what’s going on?“

„i get it, max is scary“, oscar whispered more to himself. „dude, how’d you do that?“, lando asked impressed.

„magic“, max waved his hand in front of his face and laughed. he high five’d y/n next and smiled at the other drivers.

„max is scary when he smiles“, said oscar slow and quietly towards lando, who agreed soundlessly. „hey, watch it“, max then pointed out.

on the other side, daniel was standing close to y/n, studying every twitch on her face. looking at carlos they silently communicated. the older two each grabbed a hand of hers and pulled her towards the next hospitality.

as usual, lando, max and oscar didn’t notice the other three‘s disappearance.

the two mercedes drivers, fernando and charles were already waiting. as soon as the female driver noticed lewis‘ braids, she sprinted towards him.

he though that she would gleefully hug him, but thought differently. with an angry step she stood in front of him. „how dare you make a groupchat about my feelings!“, she pointed a finger at his chest.

although she was small, she was fearful. her finger digging painfully into his chest, twisting every other second.

the older driver caved under her touch and slouched: „i’m so sorry, i just wanted to help.“

„by creating a groupchat? you could’ve just talked to me“, she sighed. „i know, but i thought i wasn’t the right person“, he admitted. „lew, you’re always the right person to talk to me“, she smiled lightly, „don’t ever do that again though!“

„okay“, he agreed, „but front row, love! how excited are you?“

and then she explained her thoughts all over again. noticing max not being here to make a scary entrance again. she explained happily, how the dutch suddenly appeared in front of her and how he reminded her of the flying dutch.

george and nando stood there listening to their favourite driver and grinned at her expressions and exclamations. her arms were up in the air, face twisted to match each of her words.

if that young woman would not be like this ever again, they swore to change the whole world for her.

„i’ll miss her“, daniel whispered to lewis. „oh buddy, it’s official then, this your last race?“

daniel nodded: „they have to recruite liam or he’s free to whichever team signs him.“ lewis looked at his friend, they’ve known each other for so long. it‘ll be weird without the australian on the grid.

„does she know?“, he then asked. „no, wouldn’t want to jinx anything and take her spirits away“, daniel hummed. „i get it, you have to tell her after the race though. wouldn’t be fair if she found out through insta.“

oscar, lando and max then trailed in with pierre, alex and charles. looking at the scene in front of them;

y/n telling some sort of story with fernando and george watching them and lewis with daniel standing on the side talking with hushed voices.

„we should celebrate“, lando said out of the blue. the female driver gasped upon hearing the random suggestion and turned around to face her best friend.

„yes, oh my god, that is such a good idea“, she excitedly said. „what should we do?“

charles said, that they could order pizza. pierre disagreed and said, that they should rent out a restaurant and eat authentic food. oscar thinks, that they should treat themselves with some spa time (they think, that lily really has a grip on that man).

lando suggested they’d go to the cinema. carlos said, that they should just go back to the hotel and do a relaxing movie night. lewis suggested they take a stroll with roscoe and leo. max thought some laps on the sim would be enough to celebrate.

george thought, that exploring singapore would be fun. fernando was just happy to tag along. daniel wanted to go swimming somewhere. and y/n, she really wanted to bury her face in ice cream and enjoy the time with her boys.

so that’s what they did. bought loads of ice cream, rented some movies at her hotel, turned her room into a home cinema and ordered some pizza too, just for fun. and of course roscoe had to stay there too.

after all that celebration, y/n was so tired, she fell asleep on fernando. he gushed and ushered the others to take some pics.

after tucking her in, setting the alarm for the next day, they all bid their goodbyes and left y/n alone. except lando - he stayed.

he was her best friend after all and he had to talk about all of the stuff with her. but it could wait until the morning, he was pretty tired himself.

as the alarm clock rang, y/n jolted up, confused as to where she was. seeing her hotel room, she remembered yesterday and what they did. she then felt someone moving beside her, turning around she saw a head full of curls and knew not to worry.

„lando, what are you doing here?“, she giggled. the mclaren driver groaned and stuffed his face into the pillow. „i have to talk about the stuff with you“, he then said.

„and you had to stay here why?“ - „because i knew i wouldn’t catch you before you would leave for the paddock, only logical solution was to stay here with you“, he finally lifted up his head and grinned at his best friend.

she laughed a little and ruffled up his hair. „you’re cute, but we don’t need to talk.“

he shook his head and made some grunting noises, disagreeing with her statement. „but we do, i need to talk about it.“

she told him everything he wanted to know. from the first time she thought she was not enough, to the phone calls with seb and to her feeling better over time.

„just promise me you’ll talk to me next time, okay?“, he begged her at the end of their conversation. she nodded. „say it, say that you’ll talk to me.“ - „i will, i will talk to you, lando, i promise.“

„good, but now, let’s get ready to race“, he grinned and changed the subject. y/n almost forgot, that they had a race to drive. and that she was starting from p2! „let’s go“, she excitedly said.

the day almost went by like a blur. the two arrived at the paddock, parted ways at her garage, bid good luck to each other.

she started her training session? warmed up with her trainer, ate some food, went to the toilet, that’s important. and then she already had to attempt the drivers parade.

she has never felt this nervous before. standing on that wagon, waving to the fans, not wanting to let anyone down, but mostly not herself.

the compulsive thoughts were coming back and she tried to remember what seb taught her. she breathed in for eight seconds, held her breath for seven, breathed out for eight again and held for seven. she repeated the box breathing method and tried to focus on the here and now.

lando saw her struggling to maintain a happy face and went over to her. „s‘all good?“, he asked in a hushed voice.

she nodded softly; „just trying to stay in the moment and not drift too far into the future.“

lando nodded, kind of understanding what she meant and just stayed by her side until the parade was over. as they parted ways for the second time that day, he hugged her and wished her only the best of luck.

her pre-race-ritual was listening to music, so she whipped out her headphones and blasted her loudest music on her playlist.

she almost jumped as her race engineer tapped her shoulder, to inform her that it was time to get into the car.

even though the first half of the day felt sped up, now everything was moving in slow motion.

she felt like james bond or any other action movie hero. her headphones still blasting music, she imagined herself looking total badass getting into her car.

step by step, nodding her head along to the music. arms flung up into the air to squeeze herself into the car. she mouthed some of the words as a mechanic gave her her steering wheel.

slowly she placed it into the socket and clicked it into it. still, everyone was moving in slow motion. she closed her eyes for a second, just trying to find her inner peace.

the music faded, she concentrated on her heartbeat. feeling it slow down, beat per beat. as she opened her eyes, the world was back to normal speed.

she took off her headphones, handed them to someone standing around the car. she lifted up her gloves, put them on and clapped her hands together.

„let’s get going then, ey?“, y/n then said to her crew. no clear answer came back, just some reassuring noises from around.

her helmet was laying in front of her, she looked at her drivers number, traced it with her finger and swiftly put it on.

the car was then rolled on to the track, everything was buzzing. she heard her race engineer checking the coms. hustling around her were all of the mechanics.

y/n went over the track once again. she knew every corner, she felt every bump on the road. her body knew when to turn, when to slow down or speed up. she knew what to do, this was her race.

she proved it by overtaking lando on corner one, lap one. right after the start there was a new race leader and they were called y/n l/n.

a woman was leading a formula one race.

she took off, she didn’t have to think about it, it was all muscle memory.

little did she know, lando was cheering behind her. even max was grinning like a mad man. for once both of them were content with not winning.

history was made on that day. as y/n crossed that finish line she couldn’t believe what was happening.

„y/n l/n, you are a formula one grand prix winner!“, she just heard her race engineer through her coms.

„and there it is, the first woman to win an f1 race, can you believe that we’ve just witnessed history?“

„i cannot, oh this is just fantastic! y/n proved that she could win, even with a mediocre car, just imagine her in a redbull or ferrari. this is beautiful, unbelievable.“

the female drivers head was spinning. what does she have to do now? in her whole career she only had one podium. but she was pumped with adrenaline that moment, she really just can’t recall what she has to do now.

she figured she’d just follow lando in her car and behold, she ended up at parc fermé. parking her car in front of the stand with the number one on it, she climbed out of it.

fuck, what cool pose was she gonna do? she hadn’t thought about that. just, improvise, she thought.

i’d will be embarrassing either way, she thought next. she took out her steering wheel, disconnected her helmet from the car and coms and jumped out of the car.

and then she just fell to her knees. at first sobbing into her helmet and not believing everything that has happened so far.

but the sobs quickly turned into laughter. she bowed, just like sebastian did, in front of her car.

sighing with happiness she stood up from the ground. lando came running to her, scooping her up and basically throwing her around.

„my god, you did it! you really did it!“

that was the actual moment, y/n realised what just had happened. that she had just won a grand prix. that she had just written history. that she had just done it.

max was coming from the other side, almost skipping. when have you ever seen max verstappen skipping?

„oh wow, this must feel so great, huh?“, he asked. „like a mountain falling from my shoulders actually“, she said.

she wanted to say so much more, but she was pulled aside to weigh. that procedure she knew. and then, there was her team, ready to celebrate the young driver.

just like lando, she sprinted towards them and jumped into the team. she was lifted up, chants were heard throughout the whole parc fermé.

„congratulations y/n, i knew you’d write history one day“, her team principal congratulated her.

from the side of her eye she saw christian horner giving her two thumps up. the next moment he mouthed: „let’s talk.“

does this mean? oh my god.

her chain of thoughts were broken, as lando pulled her along in to the cool down room.

she laid her helmet on the pillar and took the pirelli hat from the stand. her heart had finally time to calm down.

max and lando were grinning like crazy, as they approached the young girl woman. „congratulations, y/n, well done, perfect driving, couldn’t have done it better myself“, max told her. „ahhh, we’re both race winners!“, lando then shouted.

„that’s true! oh my god, i can’t believe it, and in the same season, high five!“

„who do i spray with my champagne, you or max?“, she suddenly asked. both men laughed at her question. „you spray whoever you want.“

so that’s what she did. before that, she closed her eyes at the national anthem. quietly sang along. never felt this much pride before. received the trophy and placed it far, far away from lando and shook that chanpagne bottle to spray all of the people present at the podium.

she took a swig of the god awful champagne, she remembered from last time how nasty it tasted. and she held her promise she once had with daniel.

at her first win, she would do a shoey, without any hesitation. she took of her sweaty shoes, sat down on the podium, filled the shoe up to the rim, hopefully the first sip would have the least amount of sweat and just started chugging it.

if you were present that day, you heard daniel ricciardo shouting and yelling at her from parc fermé. his whistling may have been recorded by the cameras, but who knows, the whole world was whistling for her in that moment.

nothing would ever beat that feeling ever again. drenched in sweat and champagne, chugged the mix of it and a heart full of love in that moment. she grinned at her win.

°°°

taglist: i feel like, im not gonna tag anyone for this, bc i haven’t posted in such a long time and i don’t wanna bother anyone…

so if you’re on my taglist and don’t want to be on it anymore, just post a comment under this and i’ll remove you :)

[shy-writer-999]

Summary: Let's balance out the end of kinktober with some toottthhhhh-rotting levels of sweetness. We'll make up for it tomorrow!

CW: Afab reader w/GN language. Teeny tiny bit of smut. Short and very sweet!

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

What do you look like when you’re angry?

How do you grieve?

When you’re sad, do you shut down? Do you curl up in bed and heave sobs, or do you favor silent tears trailing down your cheeks?

Among others, these are the things Law wonders when he thinks about you. He wants to know you—to really know you. To be privy to your faults, habits, and your quirks. The things about you that no one else sees. Intimate moments of suffering along with the day-to-day.

Do you talk to yourself when you’re alone?

What does your hair look like right when you get out of the shower?

What’s your favorite time of year?

His heart contorts into alien shapes when he sees you. He clams up. You have no way of knowing the intensity of his emotions, the weapons of desire that his heart and brain exchange. The magnitude of your presence assails his senses, quickens his breath, stops his heart.

He’s well acquainted with the way you laugh and the way your lips turn into the smile that he looks forward to every day. He tries to act normal around you, and he succeeds. He succeeds too well, in fact, he’ll never have a chance with you until he does something out of the ordinary.

He stares sometimes. You notice that, at least. But you try to play it off.

Law can only tolerate so much anguish until it bubbles over.

When he works up the nerve to kiss you, his hand lingers on the small of your back. Your eyes are open from shock and you’re rigid. You’ve mused on how his lips feel, if his kisses along your jawline would tickle, if he would run his fingers through your hair. What would his fingers feel like entwined with yours?

But Law’s thoughts about you go deeper than that. He passed that point—the point of fantasizing about being intimate with you—months ago. He still indulges, of course. When he does, he’s fixated on what your face would look like pleasure-ridden and fucked out. How your breasts would feel in his hands.

The day that Law kisses you, he makes you blush first. He’s awkward, or, if not awkward, something akin to it. When he smiles at you, sits by you at lunch, and finds you in the some random corner of the ship later, he knows that today is the day.

The desire and ardent admiration are festering inside of him and he can’t take it anymore.

He wants to know what your skincare routine is and hear your scratchy morning voice. He wants to wash your plate after dinner, to treat you as nicely as you deserve. He wants to give you the world, but your lips haven’t even met yet.

When they do, the world fades away. You melt into his embrace; rigidity dissipates when you realize that he wants you—that your desire is mutual. It’s like getting struck by lightning; an electric current sends sparks where your skin meets.

His rough hands feel soft as they cup your cheeks. When he pulls away, he holds you there for a moment. It's silent as he watches your cheeks dust pink and your eyelashes flutter.

“I think I love you."

oy vey my heart hurts. i need this man stat. TT^TT

here's my masterlist and here's my october posting schedule.

tomorrow is the last day of kinktober!!! :0

finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)

[chubbykaijuu]

Family reunion ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ and a bonus

[magewritesstories]

[ SPENCER REID ] THAT'S A YOU PROBLEM

cw. headcanons for (unit chief) spencer dealing with a gen z reader (there will be a complete fic on this once i find the time!!) tw. mentions of rape, sa, murder, etc

he's so confused all the time

this man knows practically nothing about pop-culture so he's very confused a lot of the time

on a regular basis he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose because of the unhinged things you say to UnSubs during interogation - "Sorry, man, the fact that your father was a deadbeat sounds kinda like a you problem." - "So, what? You did it for the plot?"

(he lowkey kinda loves it tho, bc it reminds him of gideon iykyk)

but aside from that he's also just perpetually confused when talking to you like what did you mean he has 'rizz'? (no one tell him)

one time you called something your 'roman empire' and he went on a 10 minute rant about the roman empire before you told him what you actually meant - he thought it was embarrising - you thought it was cute and would've let him talk abt it for a lot longer if rossi hadn't interupted

whenever the motive for a murder is religious you refuse to call god anything but she (he's giving up on trying to correct you)

the first few times you answered a statement with slay he was mildly concerned

you constantly quote movies and the team finds it very entertaining, bc what do you mean SPENCER REID doesn't know the origin of a quote - when an unsub blamed his killing spree on his absent father your response was "cool motive, still murder" and another time with "that's rough buddy" (spencer asked garcia why everyone thought that was so funny once they were back in quantico)

yes, he did listen to you rant about the kendrick v drake beef for a full 20 minutes without complaining - when penelope teased him abt it he said he was just returning the favour cause you always listen to him

he's sat beside you and watched you watch mike's mic appropriately unhinged recaps on plane rides (he was INVESTED)

the things you say "same" to concern him

that's it for now, i hope you liked it

[teenandbeyond]

Aye! Just wanted to firstly say I love your work and hope your doing well also good luck with your summer classes! <3 Can I request Frieza x reader with prompt 39? Basically after reader admits she's pregnant Frieza becomes extremely overprotective till she gives birth? Maybe even some Kuriza content? Remember to drink water and take care you yourself!! Also don't stress about this one shot if its too much :)

Frieza x Fem. Pregnant Reader

All these requests are so old now 😭

Want more from me? masterList II

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Un-Fearless Leader

Warning(s): Fluff

You have the ease of giving someone as cool-headed as Frieza anxiety, but add a baby to the mix?...

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Frieza was already protective over you

Like, "vaporize people for being rude to you on the spot" protective

So when he noticed you seemed more nervous than usual

He thought it must have been time for someone to die

That was until you nervously stammered the words "I'm pregnant."

He was in disbelief

But far from upset like you'd expected.

He seemed like he was a little casual about it

Until he returned with a ton of blankets and had you encased in them on your bed.

That was the beginning.

The next morning, you woke up to a practical breakfast buffet in bed.

"Uhh, Frieza? I don't think I'll be able to eat all this..."

"You're eating for two now. You can't allow yourself to starve!"

"Um...okay?"

He made sure you had the best bath oils

Didn't let you walk anywhere yourself

You can't forget the time you stubbed your toe

"Darling, are you alright?!"

"I just...stubbed it. I'm okay."

Or the time you stumbled over a misplaced slipper, about to catch yourself when suddenly you were in someone's arms with a gust of air.

"You should be more careful, dear. Guards! Where were you?!"

"To be fair, I barely tripped. They're fine."

"Well, what if you had fallen, and I wasn't here?"

He went off if any of his pawns irritated you.

Or if chefs severed any food that he read from some space article that was bad for children.

And randomly he would apologize to you.

"I don't want the baby to hurt you because we don't know how your body will handle it."

You were different races, but you didn't regret a thing.

One time, Kuriza was playing a little too close to you and Frieza went off.

"You need to be careful! You could hurt them!"

"He's okay. He was being gentle."

And things only got worse once he felt the baby kick for the first time.

In the moment, he smiled as he rested his head against your stomach. Gently poking back where he'd felt it

But after, he was protective with a whole new vigor.

It was getting so bad, Kuriza was getting protective, too

Like a distance circle made of some rod, keeping people at least a few feet from you.

The death toll definitely increased, from anyone so much as accidentally bumping into you.

Frieza would literally carry you everywhere you went together.

And you'd try to tell him, "I'm okay."

But you should know better.

When it comes to you?

The fearless leader will always be un-fearless

[onlyhoons]

BF TEXTS ; with gunwook

# : all goof and fluff !

💭 : im sooo in my gunwook era

! written by [onlyhoons]

[an-established-butt-dent]

'Dreamers' A quiet evening

Solas x Lavellan, available as print here.

Mixed media on paper

[fionaswifeyy]

i stressed out waiting for ya

warnings: smut, p in v, fem recieving, nicknames, some spanish cause our girl is mexican and she cant help it!

mdni.

sorry if this isnt good enough its my first time writing these omg!!

likes, reblogs, asks and comments are well recieved<3

Sofia couldn't take it anymore, she spent the entire day ignoring the pulse in her core, rubbing herself against the edge of the counter chair every chance she could, after Rafe in the morning before leaving to attend to business left her wanting more of that touch, ugh, and the sloppy kisses on the bed, Rafe had positioned himself between her legs, pressing his morning erection over Sofia's pajama shorts, leaving her with nothing since his alarm had started ringing indicating that he had to leave or he would be late.

Now she was in the kitchen having coffee while waiting for Rafe to return from his business, and when Rafe arrived and found her in her favorite t-shirt and only her panties he would go crazy, Sofia would return the favor of leaving her without her morning orgasm. After waiting all afternoon for him to return from his business, the front door being slammed against its frame abruptly, Sofia turned around and her coffee almost overturned due to the sudden noise.

Yes, she had already heard Rafe park in the driveway, and yes, she also saw him slam the door of his big business man ass truck realizing that something was wrong, it had probably been a long day dealing with "fucking stupid bums who don't want to do nothing" and everything must be done by the man of the company. She went to the front door greeting Rafe with fuck me eyes until I see the fricking stars."upstairs, no panties, no fucking anything, not a goddamn word" was followed by a look that said it all, I'm angry, not with you, but I will take it out on you. And she knew it, and she loved it, please, it's Rafe Cameron, her man.

Sofia was a good girl, she couldn't miss the delicious opportunity of Rafe leaving her like a dirty rag when it was what she wanted most, she was craving for him all day, for his dick, and maybe a lot more for the dirty talk , so quickly while Rafe left his things in his office, she ran to the bedroom to take off all her clothes and wait for him sprawled in bed.

Rafe walked in with determined steps, he was eager to use Sofia as his stress ball, he knew she enjoyed it. Upon entering he went to her and took her face gently in his huge hands and kissed her like a starved man "mmh, you saw me this morning babe" Sofia felt like chatting, but this was only to encourage Rafe's anger and that once and for all he would give her what she wanted, "had a tough day, I wanna de-stress with you" they began to talk between rough kisses.

"Get even, mi amor, hazme lo que quieras" and with that, Rafe knew what he had to do "ass up, face down, doll c'mon" with a slap on Sofia's ass she did what Rafe asked, then Rafe took off his belt, unbuttoned his pants and took off his shirt and then continued with his shoes and pants, leaving him only in his boxers. By this point Sofia was dripping with arousal, so Rafe couldn't think of a better idea than to run his entire tongue through Sofia's juices while he spread her ass cheeks, pulling out a melody that Rafe loves to hear, Rafe had a couple of tricks to make Sofia cum so quickly just by licking her pussy.

"Rafe papi, touch me" he put his thumb on her clitoris and entered two long fingers inside Sofia's pussy, making her scream from how good it felt. After applying his tongue and a couple of dirty words, Sofia came in Rafe's face.

Rafe continued to play with Sofia's pussy foolishly, as if she wasn't sensitive from all the foreplay, but what happened in the morning, she couldn't stand it anymore. Rafe took off his boxers since he was harder than a fucking rock and placed the tip of his dick in Sofia's wet folds and moved it a little to the sides, Sofia felt that she was already being very teased

"Please Rafey, stop playing, need 'u" he kisses her back, leaving marks with his teeth "Fucking impatient" Rafe slowly introduced his cock into Sofia's pussy, both letting out a sigh of relief "Always so tight babygirl" starting a fairly fast pace, Sofia felt that she was about to "mmph, so big rafey" "'know you can take it, angel c'mon" rafe was pounding the shit out of her, and then he applied the same strategy , fingers on the clitoris, pressing and shaking a little, Sofia let out a pornographic moan "gonna cum, daddy!" "come on Sof, cum in my cock, fill it with cream" "Rafe! mmh."

After a couple of sessions, they end up tangled in the sheets, Rafe with Sofia on his chest drawing figures without aim. He grabs her chin and forces her to look at him "hi babe" Sofi lets out a chuckle, realizing that when he arrived they didn't even greet each other how it was supposed to be "hi honey" concluding their night with a slow and soft kiss, falling asleep.

At least Rafe wasn't angry anymore.

[bun-z-bakery]

𝐶ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝛭𝑦 𝐿𝘰𝜈𝑒

Paring: Parent!Mammon x Parent!gn!Reader

CW: None

A/N: Hiiii helllooooo!! I finally got around to writing for my other best boy! this one is a cute lil holiday inspired one! Also rip obey me :( btw requests are still open but i hope you guys are enjoying what my brain cooks up on a chilly afternoon cause its cold as hell over here! 😭

Obey Me Menu | Works Menu | Ao3

"Treasure don't worry, the kiddos will be fine. I'm great with them!" The demon of greed stood proudly as your children climbed him like a tree. You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at the sight before you. How did you get so lucky? You sigh in defeat before you put on your coat and slip on some warm boots. Mammon who's still being mauled by your children, runs over and places a soft kiss on your lips, one thing that hasn't changed is the way he'd often become flustered at such gestures, either way, he's the avatar of greed after all, who's he to send off his spouse without a reminder of who they're married to?

"I'll be back as fast as I can, Mamms" you affirmed as you placed a gentle kiss on your son and daughter's cheeks, earning a giggle out of them both. "Bye-bye!" your daughter waves at you, and you give her a wave back as you leave for the day. Mammon stands before the door for a few seconds, inspecting the nob as if his life depended on it. Your children did the same, it wasn't until they heard the sound of the door locking and the jingling of keys fading did they break out of their trance.

Mammon smiles and claps his hands as he turns his back towards the door, his voice loud and eager "Alright troops, it's show time!"

You walk around the shopping center and window shop as you pass by each store. By now you have already been to a few, groceries, cleaners, the usual boring stores that seemed more exciting when you were in the devildom. You sigh as the memories come flooding back from your time in literal hell terrifying, exciting, and fascinating all rolled into one.

You take out your phone and decide to send your husband a text, a simple "everything okay?" just to quickly check-in. Once that's sent you put your phone away and walk towards the parking lot, however just as you were going to leave, something caught your eye in one of the shops.

You bite your lip, wondering if you should go in and check it out, surely mammon would worry if you come back later than you said, it wouldn't be his first freakout searching the whole city for you. With a sigh you decided to bite the bullet, you'd be quick, you promise.

"I'm homeeee~!" you sang as you entered your house. "Welcome back treasure! I missed ya!" Suddenly you're engulfed by your husband's embrace as he held you close and tightly. "Sorry, I'm late i-" you paused as you let go of him, you looked around your house to find it cleaner than how it was left. The lighting in the house was cozy, lights were hung on the ceiling, and a sturdy-looking couch fort that seemed just as warm and cozy. Walking closer to it you couldn't help but smile at the work he had put in. The crackling of fire made to turn around, and a video of a fireplace was on the TV which he had moved to the floor. Your lips quivered at how much thought and care he put in.

"D-do ya like it?" Mammon asks shyly as he places a kiss on your cheeks before taking the bags that are still in your hands. "Like it? Oh, Mamms I LOVE it!"

You pepper his face with kisses, and you both giggle like idiots. "Get comfy, hot chocolate is almost done! Kiddos say it's a need." He grumbled the last part, but you could see the corner of his lips curling. He loved to make you and now your children happy. "I'll take this one, I'll be back soon!" you quickly grab the bag and run to your shared room. You exhale with a stupid smile on your face. Placing the bag on the bed, quickly you changed into something comfortable and practical, you felt like you could melt if you had stayed in your coat and fleece pants if you wore them for just a second longer.

Once you're satisfied with your choice of clothing you decide to test your luck to see how much longer you'd have some time to yourself. You take the box out of the bag and neatly wrap it in holiday wrapping paper, you smile, silently hoping Mammon will like your gift.

Your moment of peace however didn't last as long as you'd hoped for, Mammon was already knocking and about to burst down the locked door. "Oi, darlin' open the door!" he pouts from the other side of the door. You can hear the faint thumps of feet running across the wooden floors. Quickly you shuffle your way to the door and open it as you hold the gift behind your back. "Greedy and impatient I see." you joked as you walked past him, hiding his gift in the pockets of your pants. Of course, Mammon follows behind like a lost love-sick puppy, his love for you and your little family was unmatched, ironic to say but you were blessed.

"Well, the hot chocolate is gonna get cold! And yer takin' wayyy too long! I thought somethin' happened." he pouts more. Gently you place a hand to his face and stroke his cheek with your thumb. "About that hot chocolate?" "Treasure whatcha got there?"

Crap… he saw the gift you tried oh so hard to hide. "Mammoney listen," you raise your hands, grinning as you try to speak. "I'm listening" he walks closer to you, making you take a step back. "And I heard that someone is hiding something from the great Mammon!" he shouts as he lunges with grabby hands in an attempt you hold you and tickle the truth out of you. Quickly you dodge his attack. The two of you ran around the house like maniacs, your pleas of mercy and his threats of tickling you to death were loud enough to possibly get some kind of noise complaint from a few houses down.

"Mammon pleaseeee!" you quickly rush towards the fort and carefully take a seat there. Mammon runs towards you however lets out an oof in pain as you kick your feet out which lands on his stomach to stop him from his attack.

"I'll show you if you gimme some hot chocolate please." you pout and flutter your lashes. He clicks his tongue but stifles a giggle as he makes his way to pour you both a cup of hot chocolate. While he's gone, you carefully pull the gift out of your pocket and place it on the empty spot on the couch next to you. Once again you admire the handy work he and your kids managed to accomplish within a few hours. "Your order my dear." mammon jokes in a posh tone as he places your cup on the coaster in front of you and his on the coaster in front of his seat. "Thank you my good sir." you joke back as you pick up your cup to take a sip, you pause, raising a brow at how good it was. Mammon seemingly was a man of many hidden talents and you've seemed to learn more about him after you two got married.

"wow! It's delicious!" your approval of his hot chocolate skills made his eyes sparkle and cheeks flush. "That's g-great to hear, of course, ya like the great Mammons hot chocolate!" you giggle as you roll your eyes. Setting down the cup of hot chocolate you take the gift and present it to him. "This is for my amazing husband who makes my day better." For a second mammon could've sworn you were actively trying to kill him with such words. He eyes you suspiciously and then takes the gift. "Mammon I promise you everything is okay, you really are an amazing husband."

You place your hand on his arm, giving him a small reassuring squeeze. Sometimes he doubts his ability to keep you happy. But you were happy, he made you happy and you did the same for him. That's all that matters.

He opens your gift, his eyes growing wide and his mouth falls again. Carefully he pulled out a gold-toned watch with a black enamel face. The face is surrounded by a bezel set with small rhinestones. The watch looks elegant and screams expensive. Mammon's golden blue eyes teared up, and he turned to you, "H-how did you even afford this?" his lips quivered as you watched you. You take another sip of your hot chocolate and sigh with a smile. "I've been saving up for a while, I'm so glad they finally brought back that model, it screams you!" you tilt your head as you two gaze at each other, Mammon seems like he is about to burst into tears. "Well put it on don't just-"

"Thank you my treasure." he holds you in a tight embrace, and with your free arm you return the hug. You can feel his body slightly shaking. "Mamms I love you so much, you deserve it." "I love you too treasure." he sniffles as he breaks the hug, planting a kiss on your lips, you can taste his salty tears.

"Sorry 'bout the tears… And yer hot chocolate…" he points to the chocolate-covered floor. "ew gross." A small voice coming from behind the fort made you stand and raise a brow, it was your eldest. Mammon grins at your son "Hey kiddo, wanna watch a movie? Call your sister down." with that the little white-haired boy runs upstairs. Mammon couldn't help but stare at the mini version of you, it all still felt like a dream to him.

"Sooo waiter another round of hot chocolate?" you poke his cheek, taking him out of his daze. He pulls you back onto the couch and into a warm and cozy cuddle, you love every moment of it. You used your magic to clean the spill, a nifty spell Solomon had taught you for little things like this. But still, you wanted your hot chocolate.

"Let's have another." Mammon says in barely a whisper, "Well yeah I'm waiting for another round." You giggle at him, and he turns his flushed face.

"I didn't mean the hot chocolate…"

"…" You stare at him blankly.

"I just wanted hot chocolate."

As the night went on and the movie now coming to an end, you and your two little ones were already fast asleep by the time the credits had rolled around. Mammon was just barely keeping his eyes open.

Carefully he carried the kids to their beds, then came back to get you. He smiles as he admires your sleeping figure, the way your face shines under the soft string lights, the way your breathing is soft and gentle, the way your skin has little nicks and scars that tell a story of your time in the human realm he wishes he could've been apart of. He strokes your face with the back of his hand before he carries you up to your bedroom.

Gently he places you down and makes his way to his side of the bed, sleepily you reach out to him, who is he to deny his spouse of his warm embrace?

As sleep begins to take hold of him, he strokes your hair "Thank you fr'everything my treasure." he whispers before sleep finally takes hold of him, drifting off with a smile on his face. Oh, how he loved his treasures.

A/N: One of my favorites to write tbh! I hope you enjoyed your order!☕🐇

[spencereidluver]

N is for New Years

january 01, 2009

summary: You and Spencer celebrate your first new years together with the girls at Penelope's apartment, then go back to his to celebrate alone.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: smut, alcohol (a single glass of wine is shared between reader and spencer, they do not get drunk.), somewhat sub!spencer but mostly because he's inexperienced,

“Y/N, you know I’m no good at parties,” Spencer says. He’s sat on the edge of his bed with one leg crossed over the other, both hands working to straighten his tie. 

You’re standing at the counter in Spencer’s bathroom putting your makeup on. “It’s not a party, Spence,” you giggle. 

“Actually, it is. A party is a type of social gathering of invited guests involving eating, drinking, socialization, and entertainment,” he states matter-of-factly. 

“It’s just the girls,” you’re trying to mask the hint of laughter in your voice, but it's becoming challenging.

“Yeah, speaking of which, why am I invited to the girls' night?” You couldn’t see his face, but you knew the look he wore: eyebrows furrowed, lips parted slightly, head cocked slightly to the right, his hand almost certainly brought up to his chin- his ‘confused face.’ You peek out from behind the bathroom door before exiting, a habit you picked up from work. You knew there was no danger in Spencer’s bedroom, but the months of training you’d subdued has overridden your subconscious. You catch sight of Spencer, making the exact face you’d thought he’d be.

He looks over to the door when he registers movement, meeting your eyes. He looks you up and down, mouth falling more agape. “Wow,” he says as he shifts slightly on the bed. “Y/n…” His head is scrambling to find words. “Y-you look beautiful.” 

You’re dressed in a solid black dress that ends slightly above your mid-thigh. Thin spaghetti straps draw attention to your collarbones, and though square around the neck, it’s cut low enough for the smallest amount of cleavage to peek through. A black lace waist corset droops around your waist, the strings hanging low down your back. 

“Will you tie this for me?” You ask as you turn around, revealing the untied strings. 

Spencer rushes to you, spitting out a stuttered “of course.” He stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you to pull the loose corset to its intended position. He tugs on the strings, the tension pulling the fabric into your waist. “How’s that?” He asks, holding the strings in place. 

“A little tighter,” you respond.

“A-are you sure? You need to be able to breathe.” He says, refusing to adjust the strings. 

You chuckle quietly. “It’s not tight at all, Spence.” You’re telling the truth. He had only pulled the strings tight enough for the corset to stay against your waist on its own. 

“You have bones and organs in there!” He pulls the strings ever so slightly tighter, but not enough. He slips his fingers in the side, three of them. “I’ll leave room for one finger, how's that?”

“Okay,” you smile, even though he can’t see it. You find it sweet the way he’s so worried about your health, even though the corset is a thin fabric, not leather, and you’re only wearing it for a few hours one night. 

He tightens the corset to the agreed upon extent then ties a bow at the bottom. He rests his hands on your waist, which has been cinched thinner and tighter, and tilts his head back to admire his delicate work. His fingers explore the front of the corset, feeling the intricacies of the lace as he buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

You turn to the mirror on your left, seeing the finished look for the first time. You reach a hand up to Spencer’s head, still buried in the side of your neck. “It’s gorgeous,” you say as you fluff Spencer’s hair to attract his attention. “Thank you.”

Spencer’s eyes meet yours in the mirror, his hands are still on the small of your waist holding you close. “You’re so so pretty, Y/n. So pretty,” he says, unable to take his eyes away from the mirror. 

You reach your arm behind you, grabbing onto Spencer’s tie from the section of his chest that was visible in the mirror. You’re smooth in your movements, pulling him down to you as you do a 180° turn to face him. Your lips meet his, feeling the desire from his sloppy return. His mouth is open, wet, and his hands gripping tightly on your waist. He moans slightly as you pull harder on his tie, the feeling of want taking over him. 

You battle your own want for him, the feeling growing more as he groans into your mouth with every reposition of your lips. He’s like jell-o in your arms, his bony shoulders awkwardly bumping yours as he’s leaning into your kiss. Your hands grasp aggressively at the loose fabric of his dress shirt around his waist. 

Spencer’s waist was one of your favorite parts of him physically. Especially when you were making out. The way he contorts himself into the kiss, the feeling of his abdomen trembling, it all came from the waist. 

Spencer loved his waist being touched by you as well. He wasn’t sure how to express this to you, but he didn’t have to. The way the octaves of his moans shifted, and how his hips involuntarily jutted toward you as you held him let you know just fine. You feel him hard against your thigh as he presses his hips into yours, his mouth breaking away from yours as a whine moves past his lips. He tries to go back for another kiss, but you move away.

“Spence, we need to go,” you pant. 

He huffs, but nods. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” There’s a hint of sadness in his tone, you feel bad for him. That was the closest he’d ever come to initiating, and you had to deny him. He backs away from you, walking to his closet to get his converse.

“I’m sorry,” you say, worried you made him upset.

“It’s okay, we have plans,” he sits on the corner of the bed again, slipping his shoes on. 

You ruffle his hair as you lean down to plant a kiss on his forehead. He looks up at you with a wide smile; forehead kisses were one of his many weaknesses you’ve found out. 

He finishes tying his shoes, standing once he’s done. You pick up your bag off the nightstand, immediately feeling a hand grab your forearm to stop you. “I’ll take that,” Spencer says with a smile as he takes the bag from your hand. He hooks the bag over his shoulder and gives you a nod. “Ready?”

“I think so,” you say, beginning to walk toward the door. Spencer follows close behind you, shutting the light off as you exit the bedroom and enter the living room. “Actually, wait.” You turn around. Spencer gives you a look of confusion. “Don’t let me get drunk tonight.”

His eyes went soft. “Y/n, I really don’t mind taking care of you, I- I’ve seen dead bodies almost every day for the last five years, a little puke is nothing.” His voice is gentle. You knew he was referring to the Christmas party, the night you got way too drunk and threw up all over his bathroom. But that’s not what you were referring to.

“No, Spencer, I mean I think we should celebrate on our own later,” you correct.

“What? Why would we go to Garcia’s house if we’re going to have a second celebration without them?” His voice is high and crackly, he’s confused. 

You knew better than to try being mysterious with him, but at the same time, you found his rare bouts of confusion adorable. You step closer to him, closing any gaps between the two of you. You reach a hand behind his neck, pulling his head down to yours. Your lips are hovered just off of his; the closest possible distance without touching. His breath is hot and shaky against your mouth. "What I mean is,” you say before giving a quick peck to his perfectly parted lips, “I think we should,” peck, “come home,” peck, “and finish,” peck, “what we started,” peck, “earlier,” peck.

He stares at you blankly for a moment, before his face turns red. “O-oh,” is all he can spit out, an embarrassed smile taking over his crimson face. “Y-yeah, I think I can do that.” 

You smile back at him and give him a kiss on his warm rosy cheek before turning to lead the way out of his apartment for real this time. Spencer’s cheeks somehow get more red from your kiss. He reaches a hand up, touching the place your lips had moments before departed. He follows behind you from his apartment unit, all the way down to his car.

____

“Are you and Spencer gonna kiss at midnight?” Penelope asks, trying to whisper but failing as one too many tequila shots has made her lose control of her voice.

Penelope was your and Spencer’s biggest fangirl. She loved everything about the two of you being together. She’s been impatient in wanting to witness a kiss, practically begging for it to happen any chance she got. You nor Spencer ever gave in though, as, to quote your genius boyfriend, ‘the pressure to kiss takes away from all meanings, and if there’s no meaning behind the action, why share millions of cells of bacteria when you don’t have anything to gain from it?’

While his take was something you’d never really given thought to, it was still a boundary set and you respected that. Spencer was against PDA in the beginning of your relationship, but it didn’t take him all that long to open up to it, his admiration and unconditional love for you taking over the inhibition. While he was more open to holding hands, grabbing your waist, and hugging in public, he’s still yet to kiss you in the presence of others. You figure this was just another stage of him learning to love, and wanted to allow him to do so.

Subconsciously, you told yourself you would not initiate the first public kiss, as you wanted to ensure Spencer was entirely comfortable with the happenings, however when you got drunk at the Christmas Party, you almost broke your internal promise.  Luckily for you though, your drunken loss of coordination had compromised your aim and the only thing to come in contact with the sloppy kiss was his chin.

“I don’t know, we’ll see,” you answer, giving the clearly intoxicated Penelope a smile.  

“Come on, it’s just a kiss,” Emily giggles. “You gotta give us something! You were all over each other at the Christmas party, we're not stupid.” 

They were both clearly intoxicated, you would be too if you hadn’t plans for tonight. Hanging out with the girls while drunk was always fun. It was the closest you were able to come to normal friendship, the subconscious profiling out the door when the alcohol was in your systems. 

“You guys know how he is, he’s weird about that kind of stuff,” you’re trying to answer them as best you can without oversharing, knowing Spencer would kill you if you shared anything about the intimate side of your relationship.

Speaking of Spencer, he was in Penelope's kitchen pouring drinks for the three of you. It was natural for him to take over as host, as he very rarely drank at any gatherings the team had. Luckily for you, he emerges from the corner before the girls start grilling you even harder. He held three clear wine glasses in one hand, all filled ⅔ of the way with a thick red liquid. 

He approaches the three of you who were sitting in a semi-circle on the floor of the living room, such little space between your bodies that your knees were touching. He crouches down, one knee to his chest, the other a support pillar on the floor, between you and Penelope. 

“Aw, would you look at that,” Emily coos, taking a glass from his clawed hand. 

“What a ladies man,” Penelope jokes as she takes the glass Spencer has pushed across the imaginary circle toward her. 

Spencer rolls his eyes, “And for my lady,” he says and hands the final glass to you. 

You scoff at his sorry attempt of a pun. “You’re stupid,” you giggle, shooting a sweet smile in his direction to make sure he knew you were joking. You scoot away from Penelope to the open spot on the ground and signal for Spencer to sit in the vacant area. He does so, situating his lanky figure in a criss-cross position. 

“Welcome to the gir-cle!” Penelope cheers, leaning a head on Spencer’s shoulder briefly.

While Spencer was sometimes weird about physical touch from people other than you, he’s learned to tolerate such from Penelope.

Spencer’s brow furrows, unable to hide his very confused face. “The Gir-cle?” he questions as he looks around the three of you for someone to enlighten him.

You laugh along with the other girls, placing a loving hand on Spencer’s thin thigh. “It means ‘girl-circle.’ We always sit here on girls night.”

Spencer’s gaze stops at your eyeline, a smile forming on his face. “Very clever,” he says. His eyes break from yours, looking to the circle again. “Actually, puns are one of the only form jokes to land among everyone as the punchline is always the incongruity of the subject. People are expecting one thing, but the pun takes away the consistency of a term or phrase and that is inherently humorous.”

Emily and Penelope are looking at you, eyes pleading for you to shut him up. You squeeze his thigh and mumble his name under your breath, though you're sitting in such close proximity to everyone that it’s virtually impossible for them to not have heard it as well. 

“Oh, um, sorry,” he stutters, “I- I’m glad I’m welcome in the gircle.”

“Normally it’s strictly no boys allowed, but you’re special, Dr. Reid,” Emily says, taking a sip of her wine.

Spencer shoots you yet another glance riddled with confusion. This poor boy was SO confused by the world of women, it was sweet. He pressed his lips into a straight line. “How am I special?” he asked.

“Because Y/n here is a near and dear member to our gircle!” Penelope tells him. “And you’re like, basically conjoined twins, so if we want Y/n we get you too!”

“I was going to say because you bring us wine, but that works too,” Emily says.

Spencer looks at you, still confused, but he’s decided to give it up. He takes notice in your wine glass which you’ve yet to sip from. He tips his head toward it, raising his eyebrows. 

“Spencer…” you whisper, squeezing your hand resting on his thigh as you attempt to remind him of your conversation before you’d left his apartment. 

He nods. “I know, it’s okay.”

You lean close to his ear. “Just the one glass, m’kay?” you breathe into his ear. You begin to back away, but return to whisper one more thing. “And you get a few sips too.” You sit up straight, giving him a smile. He rolls his eyes and smirks, a characteristic he’d picked up from spending nearly all his waking (and sleeping) hours with you, before taking the glass from your hand and taking a reactionless sip. 

Emily and Penelope practically cheer at the sight of Spencer drinking, as they’d noted how rare the occasion was for him. 

The clock was quickly approaching midnight. 11:23. Honestly, you were surprised Penelope hadn’t turned the T.V. on to watch the-

“OH MY GOD!” Penelope’s voice rips through the room. “THE BALL!” 

She scrambles to turn on the T.V. flipping through the channels until she reaches the screen filled with a close up of Ryan Seacrest’s face. “I lost track of time, I’m so sorry guys! Don’t worry, we only missed Lionel Richie. Taylor still has her whole segment and the Jonas Brothers have just started.”

“How do you know the entire setlist for the-” Spencer starts, but is interrupted by Emily.

“Don’t even ask,” she says. 

Penelope settles on the couch directly behind you to watch the television program, holding her wine glass out with a limp wrist. “Come on, guys! There’s plenty of room on the couch,” she comments.

Emily joins her on the couch, but Spencer doesn’t budge. “I think Y/n and I will stay on the floor, we’re comfortable,” he says, but scoots back a tad to lean his back against the front panels of the sofa. You move next to him, snuggling into his side and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Suit yourself,” Penelope shrugs and turns the volume on the T.V. up.

_____

You weren’t expecting anything to happen, so when the countdown ended and the ball dropped the feeling of Spencer’s mouth passionately against yours was a complete surprise. And you definitely were not expecting his tongue to break past your lips and enter your mouth. And honestly, you would’ve bet your life savings on his body not tackling you to the ground as he pounced on you, arms darting up to hold your face still from the impact of his kiss, but if you were to have gone through with the bet, you’d be a very poor woman. 

You were too entranced in the kiss to notice the whispers and pointing fingers from the two women on the sofa behind you, but in the back of your mind- like the WAY far back- you knew they were absolutely eating this up. A wolf whistle escapes from one of the girls’ lips, which causes Spencer to snap back into reality. His face turns red as he realizes where he’s at. He sits back up on his own, clearing his throat.

“U-um sorry, Y/n,” he says sheepishly as he extends his hand out to help you up from the floor. You take his hand and sit up next to him again, leaning forward to peck his cheek to let him know it was alright. Actually, it was more than alright. In a way, you were proud of him for mustering the courage to do such an intimate and, what had been, a very private thing for him in the strains of Penelope’s living room. Seeing Spencer gain confidence within your relationship was something beautiful. It was as if he was not only becoming more bold, but becoming himself.

Spencer is uncomfortable, no, more embarrassed. He feels the eyes from the couch behind him burning into the back of his head. It doesn’t take a profiler to sense the tension he’s created for himself. While a kiss in front of friends, even one as passionate as the one you’d just shared, felt acceptable, especially on New Years, to you and the women behind you, Spencer felt as if he’d just exposed himself to his entire workplace. 

From the way he’s shifting in his seated position, unable to hold still, it is apparent to everyone he is wanting to be just about anywhere else right now. You’ll admit, watching Spencer squirm is adorable, but from the way he is desperately grasping at your hand with his, you know he’s trying to signal something to you. 

You fake a yawn. “Well, it is officially four minutes past Spencer’s bedtime,” you say, hinting to everyone, mostly him, that it’s time for you to go home. 

“Spencer’s bedtime was several hours ago, he’s like a grandfather,” Emily jokes, “Go ahead and leave though, you’re not going to miss anything besides when I puke all over Garcia’s bathroom in about four hours.”

“You’re staying?!” Penelope exclaims. She’s clearly excited that, after her countless attempts at begging her, Emily finally decided to have a sleepover at her apartment. 

“Oh, I’m staying.” Emily’s eyes close in on Penelope. “I was promised homemade french toast in the morning, how could I possibly leave?”

“Oh you just wait!” Penelope squeals. “You guys are welcome to stay too!” She motions toward you and Spencer, who has clearly gone non-verbal.

His eyes briefly meet with yours, a fearful look in them, as if he’s begging you to answer for him. You think of an excuse, and while if either of them gave it any thought they’d be able to see right through it, it’s the quickest thing to make it through your brain and past your lips. 

“Not tonight,” you say, a sorrowful tone in your voice. “Someone is very particular about his mattress.” You playfully slap a hand on Spencer’s shoulder as you speak, telling that he’s the someone who has mattress preferences. 

Your answer in itself wasn’t a lie; Spencer did sleep so much better in his own bed than anywhere else. One of the first things he’d tell you in the mornings when you wake up in a hotel bed on a case is how awful the mattress was. But once you got down to it, he didn’t actually mind all that much. You hope for poor poor Spencer’s case that Penelope and Emily are far too intoxicated to piece your lie together, however lying to profilers has never proven to be successful. 

Maybe they were too drunk, or maybe they had their fun with Spencer, sensing his flustered state, and decided to spare him. They walked you to the door, both girls giving you a hug before you left. Spencer of course ran out the door before the goodbyes had even finished leaving his lips.

____

“Y/n I’m really sorry for what I did in there,” Spencer finally says. The walk to the car had been silent, he held your hand so as to tell you he wasn’t upset at you for anything, but the clench of his jaw told you he did not want to speak.

“Hey, you did nothing wrong,” you said, reaching a hand across the center console of the car and resting it on his thigh. He tremors beneath your touch before welcoming it, placing his hand on top of yours.

“Are you sure?” He briefly looks away from the road to meet your eye. 

“I promise.” You gently squeeze his thigh.

He sighs. “Okay,” he says.

“Everyone knows we're together, Spencer. It’s normal for couples to kiss.” You’re trying to explain something to him that you know he knows. It’ll never work.

“I know, it just feels… weird to me.”

“Then we don’t have to kiss in front of people, we can save it for when we’re alo-’

“No.” Spencer’s voice was strangely stern.

“W-what?”

“I want to be able to kiss you in front of people. I want to be normal.”

“You are normal, don’t do something that makes you uncomfortable solely for me to enjoy it.”

“Y/n, there is nothing that could make me uncomfortable with you.” He slows the car to a gentle halt in the parking lot in front of his apartment. He looks over into your eyes. “Nothing.” His tone of voice is reassuring. You smile at him, a small giggle coming out of your nose. 

He’s so cute.

His top lip trembles slightly, not like he’s about to cry, more like he’s trying to hold his smile back from you. A hand comes up to meet your chin, thumb running along the bottom of your jaw to your chin. He lets his thumb trace around your lips, pulling the bottom one down as he finishes his circle. 

He’s slow in his movements, but turns his hips and body to face yours. He uses his hand on your chin to pull you toward him. He closes the gap between you, pressing his chest firmly into yours. His lips hover just off of yours. His breath is hot against yours, yours the same to him. He exhales shakily as his lips barely graze yours.Their touch is so light you don’t think it would even count as a kiss. His soft lips and their exploration have your heart racing.

You press closer into him while moving your lips more eagerly against his. Spencer returns your eagerness, his movements becoming fervent. His hand slides to the back of your neck and fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls you impossibly closer. 

You lift your legs up into the seat of the car, shifting your position to rest on your knees which allows you to lean in at a more comfortable angle. Your hands roam up to Spencer’s face, he allows your fingertips to trace the beautiful contours of his jaw and cheekbones. His skin is warm and soft beneath the pads of your fingers, the finest layer of sweat beginning to surface on his face.

He squeezes his fist in your hair, the gentle pulling of it bringing a small whine past your lips, causing a deep groan to leave Spencer’s throat.

His other hand finds your waist, pulling you onto his lap without breaking the kiss. He whimpers as you settle on him, the inevitable friction of you against his lap causing his hips to rut up toward you so slightly. The confined space of the car amplified every touch, every feeling, every movement, each moment intimate and exhilarating.

Your fingers move to his hair, pulling gently, but insistently. He hums little noises into your mouth with each small tug. Your kisses are heavy, the passion leaving you both breathless. The warm air being exhaled fogs up the windows of the car, blurring the outside world. 

You finally pull back, resting your forehead against his. Your eyes lock with his, a gaze of longing covering the brown of his. You feel his chest rising and falling against yours. His hands are rested on your hips, fingers digging into you a little roughly. 

You smile at him, rubbing your nose into his. “Ready to go in?” you ask as you crawl off his lap, opening the car door and starting the walk to his apartment door.

part 2 HERE

_____

next chapter: P is for Perfect

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

_____

a/n: i felt like i haven't been writing enough interactions with the team, so these last two parts have kind of been dedicated to them. i also realized i only had one chapter with smut, so i wanted to give my lovely lovely whores (said with love) some content.

i left jj out of this part because in accordance with the timeline, she has a newborn baby at home, and i personally feel as if she wouldn’t leave a two month old henry home to go drink with her coworkers.

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

_____

taglist:

@justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology @navs-bhat @sammy-4103 @ada--44 @moongirl27

@hopelessheaven @shycreationdreamland @cultish-corner @violetvsworld @ivyflowers13 @taygrls

@hookergutss @random-3455 @nmw-am @bookworm124 @hizzielover @jem08

@princessbowbaby @theofficialfunk @skylions-den @smalltownbeautyqueen @spencereidapologist @lunajay33

@softlysunrays @maybe-not-this @wannabewolf @sylv3in @silver138 @sarcasm-and-stiles

@pillsbury-doughgirl @monfleurr @novaeatsworld @pleasantwitchgarden @vivixir @lolita-hc @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @guacam011y @super-nerd22 @khxna

[todostiddies]

Eren Boyfriend Headcanons pt 3

Modern Eren headcanons for GNreader, a continuation of pt 1, pt 2

*** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** ***

watched youtube and tik tok tutorials on how to take better pictures because he wants to impress you

but also thinks you're worthy of only an actual photographer you're so beautiful to him and so he want to fill his camera roll (and his insta!) with you and make it look worthy

this also shows because he lowkey becomes like the photographer in the group that sometimes when he's feeling sentimental and/or drunk he'll heckle the group on nights out for pictures and pull the whole "we're gonna grow old one day and need these to look back on" line

he also begins to take really artful photos sometimes?? and people get a little shook cause he'll have a great perspective and shot and then other times he holds his finger up to the camera to make it look like a butt in front of every other picture lmao

if he gives you a bite of something hot he'll blow on it for you first <33 and then he'll bring it to your mouth and feed you and sometimes make you blush just from his insane unblinking stare as he gauges your reaction lol

but if people are eating with you guys and conversation is flowing don't be surprised if Eren eats the bite he just prepared for you because he got too distracted

then he'll look to you all shocked like it wasn't his own hand lmao and he'll give you a cheeky smile or a pout before making another bite for you or he'll pull the iconic cheesy line "just checking for poison babe" with an embarrassed blush

judges horror movies like it's his full-time job

literally will ruin some movies or moments for you by commenting or joking about the characters and set up too much (he does it because he's secretly afraid and has to diffuse his own tension and keep a brave face for you)

has a drawer of letter's he's written to you as a suggestion from his therapist, so sometimes after fights or feelings of pent up love or other feelings he doesn't know how to verbalize he'll write them all down and it's helped with your guys' communication a lot since it gives him time to process and figure out how to say things

he plans on giving you the letters on a big anniversary or the night before your wedding

if he's in a good mood he will dramatically swing your arm while holding hands

sometimes he wordlessly plops his headphones on your head at random times and plays a song for you to hear then looks at you for your reactions and finally for your spoken opinion when he takes them off your head with a raised brow

he hates doing his homework but likes to help you with yours, and if you're burnt out or fall asleep working he'll often times do some of the work for you or help speed the assignment along (with your consent and he's learned all your writing and work styles so he can mimic you pretty well but I don't condone academic dishonesty obvi but lets be real we've all been there)

whiner

whines when he wants your attention

and whines when he gets it (if you know what I mean wink wink)

back to the photos, he has SO many photos of you and of you guys together. But he doesn't just take them and keep them, he'll shove the photo in your face and make you give yourself at least four compliments and then at least one about his photography skills lol

will randomly make eye-contact with you and plaster on the biggest smirk before lifting up his shirt to flash you his abs and v-line when he's in a good mood (and horny)

sometimes when you guys study together and he gets bored he'll take one of your open notebooks or planner and scribble in the margins and fill it with little compliments and song recs for you to find later

if he is shit talking someone this man simply does not care who hears it

he'll be so loud and bold about it too

"Eren, they're right behind you?"

"So?"

whenever you put on chapstick or anything on your lips he says "gimme a taste" and then kisses you

he'll always give a review too. like about the flavor to texture and mostly it's raving but there has been some snubs

a fry stealer to the very worst degree

always wants a sip of whatever you're drinking and if he likes it then that's your and his drink now

big fan of Zelda and always tells you that he'd be your Link if any dark calamity took you

also gets super giddy when you play Zelda in Mario Kart or Super Smash cause then he gets to pick Link even if Link isn't always the best to play with (which is an actual Nintendo crime but maybe I just suck at playing Link lol)

gets so fucking mean when playing Mario Kart as in he will throw every obstacle your way and does NOT let you win and is not above resorting to straight up distracting you or messing you up while playing

will sometimes steal Zeke's bike and take you on rides on it

he'll go fast with just himself but always keeps it under 60mph with you if even that

hums to himself while cooking <33

he can cook but he can't bake because he likes to play around with recipes a lot (by play around I mean he won't have ingredients and is too lazy to go to the store to get them so he wings it)

likes you to taste test his food

and there's always one candle half melted in his kitchen from yalls dinner dates <33

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

[shy-writer-999]

Summary: Sickeningly sweet, Sanji can’t do anything but make love to you. A short and very lovey-dovey 900 words.

CW: Afab reader, G/N language, basically pure smut but its very fluffy and sweet, P in V.

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

Sanji loves to moan your name into your mouth. As he rocks his hips up into you, one hand braces your waist. You’re in one of his favorite positions, sitting on his cock, legs wrapped around him, with your chests pressed tightly together. Your arms are thrown around his neck. Sanji’s free hand cups your cheek, and he’s almost smothering you with kisses so adoring that you can taste the love they’re made of.

He can never get enough of you.

“Fuck, my love,” he murmurs between and during his kisses, with no regard for where his lips are or how understandable he is. “You’re being so sweet for me.”

When you hum into his mouth in response, his hips move back and forth, keeping his cock inside of you. His shaft and tip grind on deep parts of you, rubbing and twitching with pleasure as you throb around him.

Sanji’s hair shifts and tickles your face as he rolls his hips. He’s got a heart-melting smile plastered onto his lips when they’re not locked on yours. Clean-smelling cologne is dusted in faint traces on his skin. He wears this fragrance specifically, not too much and not too little, because he knows it’s your favorite.

“You feel amazing, sweetheart.” Sanji purrs in your ear. It sounds like honey and desire, bouquets of flowers, hundreds of hugs, hand holding and sneaky kisses. At the same time, his tone is saturated with need and distorted by ragged breaths.

While his cock is inside of you and that gorgeous smile plays on his lips, Sanji is the epitome of a doting lover-boy. But while Sanji may seem like just a lover-boy, he’s far more complicated than that. His love is not a monolith, and you know that.

He’s a man with scars of trauma that he works to unpack each day. Sanji recognizes how these experiences have impacted the way that he loves, and he berates himself for sometimes not believing that the love you give him is genuine or that he deserves it.

He will never forget the day that he decided to give you all of him, unabashedly and uninhibited. You had been waiting for that day ever since you met him.

Now, any time that Sanji looks into a mirror, he hopes that you’re staring back at him—he hopes that he sees in his reflection the man that you so ardently cherish and support. And the more time he spends with you, the more he sees in himself someone worthy of being precious.

“You don’t understand how much I love you.” His thumb rubs soft circles on your cheek and his arm pulls your waist tighter. He wants to be as close to you as possible, to feel your heart beat at the same time as his, to match your breaths and memorize your every curve.

Each blissful and loving buck of his cock into your sensitive spot feels euphoric. Heat rages between your legs—in an attempt to take him, you squeeze him with your legs. You want as much of him as he will give you. Like always.

“I need you, angel.” Sanji’s voice is desperate and his hips move faster.

“You have me, Sanji.” It’s a cliché response, maybe. But it still rings true. No matter how many times you say it, he’ll never get tired of hearing it.

You are all that he could ever ask for. When he hears your words, an affirmation of your love, his breath quickens. You get him off in every sense. It’s the closeness of your body and the feeling of your core pulsing around him, but it’s also your affection. Something about feeling loved and loving you in return sets him off—especially when you’re on his cock.

Sanji’s brows are pinched at the middle, his mouth is open, and those pretty eyes of his are on fire. He’s almost at his limit. He’d like to see you cum before he fully lets go. It’s a sight that he savors, the last course, the dessert he never stops craving. Seeing you orgasm is sweeter than anything he’s ever made or tasted.

“Cum for me, gorgeous. Please.”

It takes no effort to do as he says. That familiar, white-hot, and eye-rolling wave of pleasure comes crashing down within seconds. It’s easy to cum when his voice gets like that—husky, low, and politely demanding. You’re floating in and drowned by pure ecstasy and true love. It washes over you for many moments.

Seeing you orgasm on his cock, satisfied and almost drooling, is what pushes Sanji into that wave. As he cums, his hips spasm upwards. You can feel that familiar tingling sensation, Sanji filling you up with his hot cum, and you relish it. His last haphazard thrusts are punctuated by groans and words that make your heart twist. “I—love you—so—fucking—much.”

You know that he’s telling the truth, but no matter how many times he says it you’ll never get tired of hearing it.

that's all for this one :D (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ i hope u liked it, i feel eh about it 🥴 but he is such a sweetie >///<

here's my masterlist and my posting schedule for october.

finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)

[uglypastels]

Too Sweet - Hozier x Anthony Bridgerton 🤭🤭🤭

oh my god, my first Anthony fic. So, I really hope I do this justice, though, disclaimer, it is probably not what we were expecting with this prompt combo. I for sure didn't think this is where I would take it, but that's just how it goes with writing, I suppose.

Anyway, thank you for also being my first 2024 Spotify Blurb aaahh it's so good to be back haha. ok, but anyway enjoy

word count: 1.1k warning: mention of commitment issues. 3rd POV. workaholic anthony

Spotify Blurb Event ~ Masterlist TBA

#2 Too Sweet - Hozier

You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait

The candlelight flickered, announcing its last minutes of life. Though the measly attempt for attention was hardly noticed by the man sitting at his large oak desk. Overfilled with dictations of family accounts, investments, and other correspondence, there was barely enough space for him to let his hands rest. As the little fires around him dimmed into darkness, it was his eyes that began to burn with fatigue and his throat as he downed the last of his whiskey. It numbed everything around him, not that there was much more besides the work that occupied his mind for the entire day. 

He was so taken up in the documents, in fact, that he had not heard the footsteps outside in the halls that softly treaded their way to the heavy doors separating him from the rest of the world. Not even the creaking of door hinges pulled him out of his focus. Only the soft sound of her voice calling his name. 

‘Anthony?’ 

Startled, as if woken up from a deep sleep or perhaps a curse, Anthony looked up. Just like that, he grew aware of his surroundings: the pure darkness outside the windows that had encapsulated his office now as well, the ache in his back and neck from hunching over the parchments, and, specifically, the beautiful figure standing in the doorway. 

‘Are you coming to bed?’ She asked.

‘Yes, just—’

‘We both know it is never just one more account, my lord.’ She said, and even in the darkness, Anthony could tell a small smile adorned her lips. One of bemusement but also sadness. It was, after all, not the first time she had caught him working into the late hours of the night. On the contrary, it was a rare occasion for him to fall asleep at a moderate time. As with most things in life, the natural motions of the sun were merely a suggestion for Anthony Bridgerton. 

‘You’re right,’ he chuckled at her comment, finally putting down the quill and immediately it was like a weight was released off his wrist. He twisted his hand and let the joint crack in satisfaction. ‘But know, I do not expect you to fetch me every evening. It is not your duty to put me to bed.’ 

‘It is my duty to care for the man that cares for me.’ She stated matter-of-factly, if not simply sternly. ‘Especially when he does not seem to take much care of himself.’ As Anthony had reached her side by the door, she halted him with a gentle placement of her palm to his chest, observing the uneven state of his shirt buttons, which he must have adorned for the entirety of the day. As it was far past any regular bedtime, and with no use in closing the shirt once more, she undid the buttons, freeing Anthony from the material. He could not help but glance down as her hands moved down his body so elegantly. 

Perhaps it was his weary state, but he could not help his wandering mind travel to the memories of the first time this interaction between them had occurred—the discarding of clothes, though much rougher in procedure than what it had become over time. A truth far derived from Anthony’s chivalrous manner, and one which would never leave his lips til the day he passes, is that he had imagined the occurrence the moment he had laid his eyes on her. A ridiculous, primitive notion only to suit the needs of the rake that he truly was. 

The hours after their first meeting, Anthony’s mind was riddled with two contradicting thoughts, both prodigious in conception. For one, he had never before felt such a desire for a woman. With her beauty and kindness, this softness in physicality and temperament, a sweetness to fulfil and satisfy all the senses. A softness that his rigidness would do nothing upon but harm, which is why he also felt the strong obligation to distance himself from her as much as possible. 

He knew himself well enough to know that though she may be the woman filling his dreams each late night, he was not the man for her to spend her waking days with. Pursuing her affection would be a selfish act on his part. When he saw her dancing, he felt no right to her hand, let alone her lips or any other fragment of her body. 

Time was meant to be the answer. Anthony supposed that as the months went by, this silly infatuation would pass, that things would change, and, whichever way fate would take him, the frustrations would ease. 

Whichever way, but surely Lady Fortuna would never bring her to him. Not so explicitly as a frustrated–exasperated– march across the gardens, her hand in a tight grip over his wrist, and a pull away from the onlookers and their evergrowing murmurs. 

With the many things running through his mind, Anthony was still unsure how his first direct words to her managed to be a scoff of, ‘This is highly improper.’

‘As improper as you having evaded my existence for the past half year?’ 

‘I–’ Those who knew him knew Anthony to be rarely found at a loss for words, but staring at her at this very moment, as the peonies were in full bloom, he had nothing to say for him. All logic escaped him, or rather, he had freed himself from reason. The rationale behind his past actions felt foolish, only to be confirmed with her kind laugh. 

‘Anthony Bridgerton, you are the most ridiculous man I have ever met.’ And again, Anthony was found silent, but this once, it was not for a lack of words, but rather that she had not gifted him with an opportunity to speak, to begin with. 

With her lips pressed passionately against his, the world faded away. A feeling so new that still never seemed to age or dim with any future kiss that followed. Even now, years later, even when Anthony’s worries about their match resurfaced on such late nights. Where he wondered if he was ever good enough for her or if he could ever live up to the love he promised her, it all dwindled away into a distant whisper until it vanished for good. There was nothing else but him and her. 

Anthony felt his entire body release the tensions of hours past. With a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of his wife’s nearly washed-off perfume, he let go of everything but her. As the lovers kissed in each other's arms, far off in the distance of the ton, the tower clock struck, and the church bells rang in echoes of their final chord of the day. 

the end.

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed it, please consider to like and especially reblog but also I would love to know what you thought of the story so please feel free to leave behind a comment anywhere around the post. all forms are appreciated :] and anon asks are always open if you're not about that public life.

and if you want to send in a prompt yourself, remember to check out the Spotify Blurb challenge, linked on top!

ok, that's all. yap sesh over.

[ipegchangbin]

— cold with changbin.

🏷️ gn!reader. fluff, suggestive. aftercare. established relationship. first time for changbin.

panting together in a slow, steadying rhythm, your chests pumped closely as changbin collapsed next to you on the bed. he held onto your naked body, skins glistening as if they were iridescent scales in the moonlight.

as inexperienced as he is with after-sex duties, he figured that your warmth would disappear with the blow of the wind. so, he reached down, grabbing your discarded shirt.

“bin?” you asked, “what are you doing—”

“are you cold?” he responded with another question.

you blinked. sure, it was getting cold. the breeze sifting through the glass of the slightly opened window, whisper leaving the curtains, coated your skin and his with goosebumps. you weren’t too cold though.

“not really, but i’d freeze if you stop cuddling me!” you joked.

changbin laughed yet awkwardly clung his hands to your shirt. he looked down on it, feeling the soft fabric in his hands as he bit his lip. your boyfriend was getting shy, smile curling downwards at the corners but you could see the blush on his cheeks peeking through the darkness of the evening.

“honestly…” changbin gulped and choked slightly — he coughed to hide it. “i thought it’s normal to dress their partner up right after sex, so…”

you couldn’t help the smile creeping over your face.

even with his lack of experience, he’s subconsciously romantic and infinitely thoughtful. he figured that naked bodies would get colder as they’re exposed to the elements, and he didn’t like the idea of you freezing next to him. oblivious to his own body heat, he thought it’d only be polite and necessary to dress you up. in his head, you shouldn’t go cold. not under his watch.

and you giggled at the idea, fully endeared.

“silly bin,” you smiled while pinching his nose lightly. “that makes a lot of sense, actually. i think people should dress their partners up after sex.”

“so they don’t?” changbin’s eyes widened.

“not sure, but in my experience, people just…sleep naked. next to each other.” you inched closer to him, holding his hands that delicately held your shirt. “kinda just like this.”

“but…you’ll go cold. i don’t want to make you shiver.”

you laugh again at him, ending your happiness with a huff, resting your head on his chest.

“i’m already warm like this. you keep me warm.”

changbin’s heart swelled and you could feel it. his heart pumped faster, the beat of it turning his skin into a personalized heater for you. he never thought of it that way, but he was grateful to learn something about himself and something about love.

and you learned something too. this is what it’s like to care about someone, this is what it’s like to be cared for by someone.

you wouldn’t admit that you’re really getting cold though, but changbin could sense it in the way that you reach for the comforter below your bodies. he caught your hand, your shirt still in his fist, and he offered it wordlessly to you with a look.

before you could even fully reach for the shirt, he shook his head, holding it firmly.

“no, let me dress you.”

he kissed your lips before unfolding the fabric, being careful to align it with your body before pulling it down. gently and delicately, his motions were soft and smooth and pure of love. his hands ran down the hem of the fabric to make you feel neater and more comfortable. he kissed you again before reaching for your shorts.

“will kisses keep you warm?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

you poked his bottom lip. “if it’s from you, yes.”

he dressed you fully this way. gave you love that made you warm on the outside and inside. he cared for you, still cares, and forever will.

you care for him too, and reached down for his own clothes. at first he waved his hands at you, signaling that he didn’t need it, but you insisted in the same way that he did.

the whisper of the wind made the curtains blow but it felt like nothing to you both. slowly and surely, you traced changbin’s toned and soft body with feather touches as you pulled the short sleeve of his shirt on his arm. you ran your other hand down his abdomen, feeling the warm tummy that you love so much. it left him blushing all over, just as in love as you are.

as soon as you both finished dressing up, in shirts and shorts, you kissed one last—two last, three last, four last, five last—times. changbin giggled, so did you.

changbin found out that your warmth was never going to leave your body or his.

as he snuggled closer, as experienced as he is now, he held onto the flame of your heart and let it ignite his own. the two of you breathed, exhaling in each other’s presence, drifting away to warm sleep.

[grimmcheems]

Just some random ahh Raditz doodles. Also some cute and hypothetical stuff. Wasn’t thinking much but I saw a what if scenario while looking at refs for him on Raditz and Goku being taken in by Grampa Gohan and I found it interesting. So here he is kidnapping baby Goku after finding him at Gohan’s place lmao. HE WOULD’VE MADE A GREAT UNCLE IF HE WASN’T SO EVIL.😭

He also would’ve been a great older brother to both Goku AND Chichi. The slice of life fluff they could’ve had!!!😭😭will forever be mad at his death bc there’s no way Goku would not be devastated after killing his only living family left. That and finally having another saiyan he could learn his biology and culture from, heck Gohan could’ve learned so much if Raditz wasn’t such an ass and taught him something while he had him. I half wish Raditz had a different reaction and changed his motives a bit after seeing Goku alive and suddenly having a nephew, he would’ve spoiled him and y’all can’t convince me otherwise. He would’ve treated Chichi like a queen knowing her lineage and the fact that she was carrying the hope of his race surviving. Y’all he would’ve volunteered to babysit Trunks too, even if he only used that time to teach him stuff a baby/toddler shouldn’t be doing, but I digress.