#starting fresh on this thing i’m so excited

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 2 - the first look

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

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your doorbell rang, and you skipped down the stairs opening the door to three grinning faces. sarah pulls you into a massive hug.  

“ah y/n!! you look so beautiful. this is john b, my boyfriend, and kiara my best friend”

“oh it’s so nice to finally meet you! sarah hasn’t stopped talking about you since yesterday” kiara admitted as she brings you into a hug “she’s been so excited for us to meet”

“so great to meet you y/n” john b kindly greets you. 

you instantly loved both of them and found the same comfort with them as you did with sarah. 

“and you guys! i’m so excited for tonight” 

“you should be, let’s get going.” sarah pulls you out of the house and into the car. 

after a blissful car ride full of introductions, laughing and loud music, you finally arrive at the venue. 

as sarah led you through the opening doors, swiftly showing your tickets, adrenaline rushed through your veins in excitement for the night. 

“here are our seats!” sarah squealed with excitement, taking your hand and dragging you into the arena. 

the lights were dim, signing the concert was about to begin. the venue filled with silence and anticipation and hushed voices, fans lifting their phone cameras ready to film the bands entrance. 

a sudden beat started, with the lights strobing to the music beginning. your heart beat pulsing, taking in the exhilarating atmosphere. 

“ah i’m so excited!” kiara held onto you, as the band members started to come on stage one by one. 

with the crowd screaming and jumping up and down, you could barely see the stage, until you did. 

and you saw him. 

“holy fuck” you gasped under your breath. 

“what was that y/n?” sarah questioned

“who’s that guy?” you replied 

“which one?”

“not the drummer, the main?”

“oh em gee how didn’t you realise” sarah giggled

“realise what?”

“y/n that’s my brother”

oh fuck 

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a/n: and so it finally begins heheh... oh my lord i've been at this all day while i should've been working LOL oh well at least i have my priorites right😝

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry 

[staylovesmiley]

Thoughts on dating hyunlix and telling them you’re pregnant

Hmm I have thoughts alright hehehehe

Sweet sweet hyunlix~ first I think I should go into my thoughts on what dating them would be like since that’s half of this ask mhm mhm

Dating Hyunjin and Felix is like laying down on sheets fresh from the dryer after you just had an everything shower (iykyk) between Hyune’s heavily romantic soul and Felix’s sweet and bubbly one it’s like you are dating an old historical drama love interest and a rom com love interest in the best ways!

I feel like Hyunnie would be very classically romantic as he has stated so many times how much of a romantic he is- like flowers just because, intimate dinners with either you, Felix, or all three of you, leaves you love notes he tucked in your purse before he left in the morning where he knows you will find it when you go to grab an essential item like hand sanitizer or your lip balm. He’s just a silly little lovesick fool~

Lix on the other hand is much more playful I think? He’s very flirty but also a little clumsy with it~ I think he would send you tiktoks and memes in lieu of love notes, but you Lego flowers you could build together over real ones, and his ideal dates are either kicking each others asses in Mario kart or going for an activity like a movie or an arcade! Whereas Hyunjin is classic romance Felix is young and fresh love and they mix together into something wonderful that you feel you could never get tired of~

They also both clearly are physical touch as love language people so I feel like they would never get enough cuddles, kisses, or hugs from you! You would be surrounded by affection of all kinds always and you are completely okay with that (but if you need time for yourself they are respectful and will cling to each other until you are ready to join them again)

Now to the second part of the ask~~

If you were to find out you were pregnant with Hyunlix baby while you were just dating I feel like they would be excited but a little scared- Hyunjin especially I feel would be a little pale at the news at first because he’s such a pabo how is he supposed to raise a baby and teach it things about life?! He is excited and loves the idea of starting a little family with his loves but gosh it’s scary okay?? Even if it’s something you want it’s scary especially since it wasn’t necessarily planned (at least in this scenario that’s what I’m going with-) but once he voices his fears to you and Felix you both reassure him and he relaxes, feeling so nice to have two partners to help and feeling less alone (this drama king- as if he’s the one carrying the baby and giving birth to it istg)

Felix would cry. Hands fucking down. Every time he thinks about it for too long after telling him he tears up with the happiness brimming inside him~ I think he would feel a bit more prepared for a baby than Hyune, even if it’s just because he can be a lil optimistically clueless hehehe he would be daydreaming immediately what life will be like with the four of you (or more- and if he starts thinking about you having multiples that’s when he gets a little nervous but for this scenario there is only one baby so he calms down again after the scans show that)

I’ll leave this as is for now unlike the Minsung one cause I feel like Hyunlix wouldn’t really change much how the treat you during pregnancy than outside of it? They’d be more attentive to you and your needs but they were already so doting the only things that feel specifically “baby/pregnancy” related is maybe Hyune dedicating hours to painting the nursery the closer your due date gets and he is so into it you won’t see him for hours and hours while he is working on it~ and Lix would for sure give your baby bump little fist bumps and talk to it as much as possible so “baby had an aussie accent~” but hey let’s be real he already successfully gave our aussie boy hyunjin an accent so I feel like the baby would also develop one as it grew (especially with the constant Bluey episodes he would put on for them ever since the womb hehehe)

[al-1-na]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 ~ 𝟓

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

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The first year in New York had been a whirlwind—full of challenges, love, and growth. Drew’s off-Broadway production had been a hit, earning him glowing reviews and even a few new opportunities. Your career had reached new heights, and for a while, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

But slowly, cracks began to form in the life you’d built together.

It started with small things. Drew would come home late from rehearsals, drained from the grind of live performances, and crash onto the couch without saying much. You noticed how the city you once loved—the energy, the chaos—seemed to weigh heavier on you with each passing day. Even weekends together felt rushed, as if you were constantly trying to catch your breath.

One night, as you lay in bed, Drew spoke into the quiet.

“Do you ever feel like… we’re just surviving here?”

You turned to look at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

He stared at the ceiling, his hand resting on yours. “I love being with you, but this city—it’s exhausting. Every day feels like a battle. And I don’t know if it’s worth it anymore.”

His words hit a nerve you hadn’t admitted to yourself. New York had been your dream for so long, but lately, it felt more like a weight than a joy. You’d brushed it off as temporary, as something you’d adjust to, but deep down, you knew Drew was right.

“I’ve been feeling that way, too,” you admitted softly.

Drew turned to you, his blue eyes searching yours. “Then maybe it’s time for a change.”

A few weeks later, the opportunity presented itself.

You’d applied for a position at a production company in Los Angeles on a whim, not expecting anything to come of it. But when the offer came—a dream role with better hours, better pay, and a fresh start—you knew it was a sign.

“I got the job,” you told Drew one evening, your voice trembling with a mix of excitement and fear.

He looked up from his script, his eyes lighting up. “You’re kidding. That’s amazing!”

“But it’s in L.A.,” you added, your voice quieter now. “I’d have to move.”

Drew set the script down and crossed the room, pulling you into his arms. “Then we’ll move.”

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve been thinking about it, anyway. Most of my work is out there now, and honestly? I’m ready to leave New York behind if it means being with you. This city isn’t our forever.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you leaned into him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s start over—together.”

The move to Los Angeles felt like a breath of fresh air.

You and Drew found a small house on the west side, tucked away on a quiet street with a lemon tree in the backyard. It wasn’t much, but it was yours, and for the first time in years, you felt like you could finally exhale.

Drew thrived in L.A., landing a role in a new streaming series that allowed him to work steadily without the relentless pressure of stage performances. You loved your new job, and the flexible hours meant you could spend more time together, exploring the city and building a life that felt right.

Evenings were spent cooking dinner in your tiny kitchen, dancing barefoot to old records, and talking about everything and nothing. Weekends meant hikes in the hills, lazy beach days, and impromptu road trips up the coast.

One night, as you sat on the patio under the soft glow of string lights, Drew handed you a glass of wine and sat beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders.

“Do you ever think about how far we’ve come?” he asked, his voice thoughtful.

You smiled, leaning your head against his chest. “All the time. Sometimes it feels like we’ve lived a dozen lives just to get here.”

Drew tilted your chin up, his eyes locked on yours. “I’m glad we did. Every mistake, every detour—it all led me back to you.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you cupped his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’m glad, too. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

He kissed you then, slow and sweet, as if to seal the promise you’d made to each other.

Months turned into a year, and your life in L.A. grew fuller with each passing day. The house felt more like home, filled with laughter, love, and the occasional burnt dinner. You and Drew had found your forever—not in a city, but in each other.

One evening, as the sun set over the Pacific, you stood on the beach together, the waves lapping at your feet. Drew slipped his hand into yours, his fingers warm and familiar.

“I know we’ve talked about not rushing things,” he said, his voice steady. “But I can’t wait anymore.”

You turned to him, your heart pounding as he dropped to one knee, a small velvet box in his hand.

“Y/N, you’re my best friend, my partner, and the love of my life. I want to keep building this crazy, beautiful life with you—forever. Will you marry me?”

Tears streamed down your face as you nodded, your voice breaking. “Yes. A million times, yes.”

Drew slipped the ring onto your finger and stood, pulling you into his arms as the crowd around you cheered.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, you knew this was it.

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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @maybanksgirl69 @raeven-marie43 @niktwazny303

[yaut-jaknowit]

Yautja partner walking in on their hooman doing just dance?? Any character is good!

Right Moves

Pairings: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1964

Summary: Gawtin walks in to you dancing your heart out to Rasputin.

Author Note: Went a bit silly for this one!

Masterlist

Ao3

Music filled the space, coming from a small radio given to you long ago by your mate. The oven was heating up at the moment. You swayed your hips to the beat of the son, not entirely matching to it. It was the thought that counted. Humming sounded from you at the same time, joining in on the song.

Dough was pounded inside of a mixing bowl. The sweet scent of the sugar and cinnamon filled the kitchen. A smell that would make the nearest neighbor jealous that her sister gets to have the cookies all to herself. One of the few good things people saw in bringing in a human. You were able to stay with Gawtin with this skill, winning people over by their taste buds. Not as a burden many saw humans as.

Every song played was from earth even if the planet was millions upon millions of light years away. Yautjas were able to tap into the internet despite the distance. Their technology greatly outdid humans alone. You were beyond grateful since it felt too quiet and lonesome when Gawtin goes out for a hunt or to head into town. It’s up to you if you wanted to go with.

Yautjas themselves had music. Not much variety compared to humans. Theirs was more for ceremonies or official fights. It held a more professional… scary tone to it. You felt unworthy to listen to any of it on a regular day such as today. So, you decided to drag out a radio and connect a tablet to it for some earth music. From there on out, you enjoyed the time of baking snickerdoodle cookies. They didn’t taste exactly like earth made ones. You had to put in substations that Yautjas had in place. Not that they had much.

Their foods were definitely different to humans. The first thing you learned when you landed here after Gawtin saved your life, was Yautjas ate raw. The meat usually torn straight from the bones they consumed. You found it disturbing in the beginning. After living with the mother for two years, its become the norm. It’s just how Yautjas live. They their differences to humans. Living here on their planet has taught you a valuable lesson: how to be open minded and adaptable in any situation. Sink or swim. You’ve learned how to swim in rough waters, in a world that would love to swallow you whole.

The last of the ingredients was finally, completely mixed into the bowl. It has officially turned into dough and was ready to be rolled into balls then coated with sugary, cinnamon. Real cinnamon as well. A trip to earth was all it took.

You began the process and hummed along to the tune of a song playing. A dozen small ping pong sized balls sat on a tray you’ve prepared. The oven beeped just in time to let you know it was ready. You slipped the tray into the oven and started a timer.

Lyrics began to pour from your lips. A couple of twirls took you back over to another tray ready for some dough. You continued the same process again as you sung to your hearts content. A smile was plastered to your features the entire time. This live you’ve been given was far better than wha you lived before.

And it was all because of Gawtin.

Speaking of the devil. The front door slid open to reveal a familiar face with her child held in her arms. Your face brightened up once more at the sight. She was back! Right in time for the latest batch to come out of the oven. Fresh and hot. You set the tray down on some pads and spun around to greet her. Music still jamming in the background. You twirled over to her, excited she was back.

“Welcome back, baby!” Qui’oky was set down at your feet. You took the opportunity to hug the giant alien that easily towered over you. You barely reached her stomach. That’s how tall she was. “As you probably figured out, I’m making-“ you had to cut yourself off before saying the word. Qui’oky has a sweet tooth for them An issue you created by accident. Truly. You didn’t mean to. He just loves them so much.

“Hmm, I could smell them. Bziut-ty gave me a look when I passed her home,” Gawtin purred and scooped you up into her arms. Instinctively, your arms and legs wrapped around her torso for support. Not like she couldn’t Gawtin’s proven to you how strong she is over and over. A sight that never gets old.

Your face nuzzled into her neck and took in her unique scent. “Well, if you want to tell her, I can stop by and drop a few off.” You pulled back enough to look her in the eye. Gawtin’s purple eyes barely narrowed, but you knew what to look for. Easily seeing it. “You need to learn to share,” you playfully scolded her and pointed a finger at her.

One of her mandibles extended enough to graze against your hand. “Mine,” she growled with a limited heat in her voice. Her arms tightened around you and solidified her point.

A light sigh escaped her lips. You used both hands to cup her face and leaned into nuzzle her inner snout. “Also mine,” you firmly stated. “But the co-ehm, you know, are to be shared, okay?” Gawtin stared at you with those beautiful purple eyes of hers. “There are some that are ready to be eaten.” Maybe bribing would work against Gawtin this time?

There was a pause that stilled the air. You waited with bated breath, eyes flicking between the two of hers. Until you saw something change in them.

Gawtin grunted and walked over to the kitchen. One arm moved to be under your butt; while the other reached out and grabbed a fresh, warm cookie. She bit into it, eyes rolling back into her head. This is nothing like she’s ever tasted before. Her eyes sparkled even after the entire thing was consumed.

Carefully, you twisted your torso in her hold and grabbed hold of one as well. God, it was still so warm and nearly collapsing in on itself. Perfection right here. A deep groan radiated off of you at the first bite. You may have tasted them plenty of times before. Yet, here you are, still enjoy it as if it’s your first day all over again.

“Once more. I’m the fucking bomb when it comes to baking.” Any reasonable Yautja in the small town would one-hundred percent agree to that statement. They know bringing a human here wouldn’t have been a mistake. At least not you. They liked to say you’re one of the rare ones that deserved to live. A statement like that can be thought as wrong. Maybe it really was. But, you don’t care. It’s not like you can change a Yautjas mind. That’d take an act from an entity for that to happen.

“Now, can you put me down, please? I’ve got to start the second batch.” For a moment, Gawtin hesitated, waring with herself if she wanted to have more cookies or keep touching you. Gawtin finally came to terms and let you stand on your own two feet. Oky stared up at you with those big, blue baby eyes of his. You remembered the moment you first saw him. A green glob. That’s what he looked liked to you.

There was something stewing in thos eyes. As if he was trying to piece the puzzle together. Your eyes widened before hostility looking up at Gawtin. “Hey, hon, I think Oky needs a bath,” you urged her to take the child away from here. Before he finds out.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment before the confusion turned into realization. She bent at the waist and scooped the two year old up. “He does stink,” she said back and ensured he couldn’t see anything on the counter. “I will be back, little artist.” Then, the giant green mother takes her child to the bathroom for a bath. Afterwards, he’ll be sleepy for a nap. Perfect for you to finish up the last batch and clean up. Not a trace left for little Oky to find. All for the better.

Music still played though. After getting back into the groove, you started to swing your hips around, living to the beat of the music. Lyrics once more escaped your vocal cords. The last batch of cookies baking in the oven. Your eyes closed, body dancing around the small space of the kitchen.

The song ended then a new one started. One you and majority of the world knew the entire dance and lyrics to it. You beamed brightly and instantly bobbed your head. This one, you could keep up with after knowing it so long and so many times of listening to it.

From there, you began to sing and dance to ‘Rasputin’.

You followed the beat perfectly even as your muscles ached. A smile was pasted on your face, enjoying the soft, clam moment that you get to experience every day now. You spun, around, ready to go another round only to find Gawtin standing there. Instantly, you stood up straight and pointed at her.

“How long have you been standing there?” The words fell from your lips in a rush, By the amusement sparkling in her purple eyes, it had been a while. Heat flushed to your cheeks instantly. Out of all the songs in the world, Gawtin had to find you dancing to Rasputin. Not that she hadn’t seen you do weirder things. You are human after all.

Your lover smirked as she moved close to you until she stood in front of you. “Long enough.” A whine passed your lips as you ducked your head to hide away from her firm gaze. “You can dance well.” A hand dragged down your face.

She placed a hand under your chin and tugged your face back up. The soft look in her eyes had you going lax in her hold. “It was adorable though,” she reassured you in a soft, gentle tone. You casted your gaze down at the ground for a moment before looking at her again.

“Thanks,” You murmured, face still enflamed with heat. Your eyes could barely look at her from the embarrassment that filled you completely. “Ehm, the cookies are done if you want some more.” Gawtin purred lowly in her chest and pulled away. Her touch lingering for an extra moment. Then, her large green form moved into the cleaned up kitchen. The last batch baking away in the oven. Less than three minutes until it was finished.

You followed her into the kitchen then hopped up on a counter, sitting here. Gawtin picked on of the snickerdoodles and threw it into her mouth. The love in her purple eyes tenfolded as the flavors burst over her taste buds.

“Bziut-ty is not getting any of these,” Gawtin growled in a possessive tone. A laugh burst from your throat. You grabbed her hand and brought it up to your face to nuzzle against it.

“You need to learn to share.” Gawtin threw another cookie into her awaiting mouth. A scowl passed over her features. “Specially with your sister of all people.” She huffed and leaned in close to your face.

“Mine.” She was talking about you and the cookies. You could tell. Female Yautjas aren’t to be fucked with. You met her advances by placing a kiss to her upper mandible. Another deep growl vibrated in her chest.

“Always yours,” you responded in earnest. The cookies stayed here. Only for the two of you.

[rmadridcore]

Under the Storm

Pairing: Aurélien Tchouaméni x Reader

Summary: On a rainy day, you and Aurélien share a moment of intense passion and intimacy, wrapped in each other completely.

Word Count: 2.8K

Warning: Smut! (Minors DNI)

Author’s note: okayy, i’ve been wanting to write for Tchou for a while but i couldn’t find proper inspo. apparently a tiktok edit i saw the other was all i needed 😭 here it is, hope you guys like it! tell me your opinions and also whether i should write for him more 🤍

The rain drummed gently against the windows, a soothing rhythm that filled the room with a sense of calm. The world outside was washed in shades of gray, the kind of weather that begged for blankets and whispered conversations. From the moment you opened your eyes that morning, the gloomy weather made you groan, casting a darker shadow over your mood. Starting the day with such horrific weather was never ideal, but your spirits lifted the moment you realized both you and your boyfriend had a day off. This dreadful rainy day could be transformed into a cozy, intimate one — filled with nothing but lounging around the house and basking in the warmth of your love.

Simple days with Aurélien always felt extra special. He had a way of making even the most mundane activities feel like extraordinary moments. It was his magic, his superpower: the ability to make you feel loved and excited at all times. His presence, his scent, his jokes, his face — everything about him was enough to bring you joy, contentment, and comfort, no matter the setting.

Especially now, as the two of you were sprawled on the couch in your shared home, limbs tangled together, your head resting on his firm chest. His hand moved softly through your hair in slow, soothing strokes. The faint, familiar scent of him filled your senses, intoxicating and comforting all at once. You fell asleep and woke up next to him every day, but his scent never failed to make you dizzy. That fresh, woody aroma, it was the smell of home.

Aurélien’s fingers threaded through your hair in a slow, rhythmic motion, while his lips left occasional, tender kisses on your head. The two of you were half-watching a silly movie, but when it ended, neither of you bothered to put on something else. The quiet, comfortable intimacy of the moment was far more captivating.

“You smell so nice,” you murmured, voicing the thought that had been swirling in your mind for a good twenty minutes.

He chuckled softly. “You tell me that almost every day.” His voice held a smile.

“That’s because you smell nice every day,” you replied, nuzzling closer into his chest. He responded with another soft kiss to your head.

“Stay here forever,” he murmured after a moment of silence, his voice barely above a whisper as his fingers lazily massaged your scalp.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I actually live here,” you teased, a playful lilt in your tone.

“No, like… forever. Right here. With me,” he said, his voice warm but serious, as though he were pouring his soul into those words.

Your heart melted at his sincerity. “Baby,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to his jawline. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, ever.” You kissed him again, this time on the lips, a quick, tender peck before resting your head back on his chest.

“Keep stroking my hair, or I’m outta here this second,” you warned playfully when he paused for a moment. His soft laugh vibrated against your cheek as he resumed his gentle strokes.

You began placing soft kisses along his jawline, intending to keep things innocent and savor the simplicity of just being close to him. But those soft kisses soon deepened into open-mouthed ones. You tried to stop yourself, wanting to hold onto the moment’s pure comfort a little longer, but the feel of his smooth skin, his intoxicating scent, and the soft, shallow breaths he let out when your lips met his skin made it impossible to pull away.

His hand slid from your hair to your waist, pulling you even closer as his lips sought yours. The rain continued its soothing rhythm against the windows, but inside, the room was filled with warmth — the kind of heat that chased away the chill of any gray day.

With his lips finding yours and your hand cupping his gorgeous face, Aurélien slipped his tongue into your mouth, not letting you catch your breath. Your lips moved in perfect sync, an unspoken understanding passing between you both with every kiss. His kisses were always special — warm, consuming, and utterly mesmerizing. The moment his mouth met yours, it was like the world beyond the two of you ceased to exist.

Without warning, he gently laid you back on the couch, his lips never leaving yours. His movements were deliberate but tender, a balance of passion and care that left you breathless. His hands framed your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as though he were committing every inch of your skin to memory. Slowly, he trailed his lips down to your neck, leaving a path of open-mouthed kisses that sent shivers coursing through your body. When his mouth reached your collarbone, a soft hum escaped your lips, and he paused to glance at you, his gaze dark and smoldering.

Sliding to his knees in front of the couch, his hand moved to the button of your pants. His fingers worked the fabric open with a deliberate slowness that sent your pulse racing. He lowered the fabric down your legs, his touch lingering, as though savoring the feel of your skin beneath his hands.

“I want to make you feel good, angel,” he whispered, his voice sultry and smooth, wrapping around you like silk. Your chest rose and fell quickly, anticipation coiling tightly in your core as you nodded in acknowledgment, unable to find your voice.

Aurélien lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder, his lips brushing feather-light kisses along the other leg until he reached your inner thigh. Each kiss was tender, yet it left a trail of heat in its wake. You couldn’t resist the urge to tug off your top, revealing the delicate lace of your bra. His gaze flickered up to meet yours, his lips curling into a cheeky smile before resuming his path.

He kissed the inside of your thighs with a deliberate intent, sucking gently until tiny purple marks bloomed against your skin. The teasing was almost unbearable, and you couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped your lips.

“Please, Aurélien,” you pleaded, your voice laced with impatience and longing.

His eyes met yours, a playful glint sparking in them. “What do you need, sweet thing?”

“Everything. Your tongue. Your fingers. Please...please.” The words tumbled from your lips, your need overwhelming your usual composure.

“Patience, baby,” he teased, his lips grazing tantalizingly close to where you craved him most. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk at your frustrated sigh.

Finally, his hands hooked around the waistband of your underwear, easing it down and leaving you exposed to him. Without hesitation, he pressed his lips against your clit, his tongue curling expertly around the sensitive nub. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your hips bucked instinctively, but his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you firmly in place. One hand slid up to your stomach, splaying against your skin to steady you as he flattened his tongue against your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure.

“You’re so beautiful. So wet. Is this all for me?” he murmured between strokes, his voice dripping with admiration. You nodded hastily, your breath coming in short gasps as his tongue continued its relentless assault.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as his mouth and fingers worked in perfect harmony. He glanced up briefly, his dark eyes locking onto your flushed face before increasing the pace of his fingers. They moved inside you with precision, curling just right to hit the spot that made your back arch and your moans grow louder.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. His words sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, amplifying the intensity of your pleasure. He squeezed your hand gently, the reassurance grounding you even as your orgasm built to a peak.

Your body trembled, a shudder rippling through you as your climax overtook you. A deep moan escaped your throat, your head falling back against the couch as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Aurélien stayed with you through every moment, his touch steady and comforting as he helped you ride out your high.

When your breathing finally began to slow, he climbed back up to you, his movements unhurried and tender. He brushed your hair away from your face, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, nose, and cheeks. “It’s okay,” he cooed, his voice gentle and soothing. Your eyes remained closed as you basked in the warmth of his embrace, your heart still racing but your soul utterly at peace.

You mindlessly pulled him closer, burying your face in his neck. The aftermath of your powerful climax left you craving his warmth and gentle reassurances. “Take me upstairs,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but full of longing. You kissed his neck softly, your hand trailing down his abdomen with deliberate intent.

“Okay, baby. Let’s go upstairs,” Aurélien replied, his tone filled with both tenderness and mischief.

Without wasting a second, you grabbed his hand and stood, leading him eagerly toward the staircase. “Eager girl,” he teased, his smirk evident in his voice as he followed your hurried steps.

“Need you to catch up,” you shot back playfully, glancing over your shoulder as you reached his room. “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you silenced him by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. It was deep and consuming, leaving no room for argument. Together, your hands found the hem of his sweater, tugging it over his head in one smooth motion. You couldn’t help but admire his sculpted frame, your fingers instinctively trailing down his chest and over his toned abs.

The back of your legs bumped against the bed, and you sank onto it, never breaking contact. Your hands roamed down his body, tugging his sweats and underwear down as he helped you slide them off completely. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, an unspoken urgency shared between you both.

Without hesitation, he joined you on the bed, his lips capturing yours again in a kiss so deep it stole your breath. Your body responded instinctively, every nerve alive under his touch. Your hands clung to his biceps, their strength grounding you, as his body aligned perfectly with yours.

When he shifted slightly, the unmistakable hardness of him brushed against your thigh, sending a shiver of anticipation through you. His lips never left yours as he entered you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. The sensation drew a moan from deep within you — a sound so raw and vulnerable it felt like you had been holding it in forever.

Aurélien froze for a moment, his dark eyes searching yours. “You’re okay?” he murmured, his voice laced with both concern and desire.

“More than okay,” you whispered, tightening your legs around his waist in response.

Your body instinctively clenched around him, and his reaction was immediate, a low grunt that vibrated through his chest. His fingers gripped your hips, holding you in place as he began to move. His thrusts were slow and deliberate, each one drawing out a new wave of pleasure.

“You’re incredible,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your temple. “So perfect.”

Every word, every motion, sent you spiraling higher. Your nails dug into his back, desperate to ground yourself as the intensity built. “Aurélien,” you cried out, your voice shaky. “It’s so good. Please, faster.”

He pulled back slightly, his movements quickening as he adjusted the angle. The change sent a new wave of sensation crashing through you, pulling moans from your lips that left him in awe.

“Tell me what you want, angel,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as his lips trailed along your neck. “Anything, you only have to ask.”

You hesitated briefly, the vulnerability of the moment making you shy. But the intensity of his gaze gave you the courage to meet his eyes. “Don’t hold back,” you whispered, your hand resting against the nape of his neck. “I want all of you.”

You shifted, lifting yourself slightly, and Aurélien immediately mirrored your movement, his hands steadying you as you turned to face the headboard. Your back arched instinctively, presenting yourself to him. You heard him suck in a deep breath, the sound full of restraint as if he were forcing himself to keep control.

His hands settled on your hips, his thumbs brushing soothingly across your skin in a motion that reassured and electrified you all at once. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. Then, with deliberate care, he guided himself back into you, every inch of him sending shivers through your body as you adjusted to his size. He paused, giving you the time you needed, his fingers tightening just enough on your hips to anchor you.

“Take your time,” he whispered, his tone as soft as his grip was firm.

Your body responded instinctively, stretching and molding to him, until the tension eased and the pleasure began to bloom. He started to move, slow and steady at first, his rhythm purposeful. Each thrust built on the last, filling the room with the intoxicating symphony of your heavy breathing, whispered moans, and the rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin. His grip on your hips tightened, not with restraint but with a passion so palpable it made your breath hitch.

“You’re so perfect, baby,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. The way your body responded to him was a constant encouragement, each moan spurring him on. “Such a perfect pussy, made for me.”

The heat of his words sent a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through you, and you couldn’t hold back your response. “I love you,” you moaned, your voice shaky and raw.

His chuckle was dark and teasing, yet full of warmth. “Yeah? How much?” he asked, his voice husky as his hips snapped forward, driving deeper.

“So, so much,” you managed to breathe out, your voice trembling as the coil in your lower belly tightened with each of his perfectly angled thrusts. Your walls fluttered around him, your body responding to him in ways that felt completely out of your control.

Aurélien groaned at the sensation, his fingers gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

You felt yourself spiraling, the tension inside you reaching its breaking point. “Gonna cum,” you gasped, your words barely audible as your chest heaved with shallow breaths.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his hand slipping down between your legs. His fingers found your clit, circling it with a pressure that sent you hurtling toward release. The combination of his thrusts and the expert movement of his fingers unraveled you completely. Your legs began to tremble uncontrollably, your body shaking as the most euphoric sensation tore through you.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice soft but commanding as he lowered himself over you. His lips brushed your ear, and he murmured, “Shhh, that’s it, let it happen. Let me take care of you.”

Your moans dissolved into soft whimpers as the waves of your climax crashed over you. Aurélien slowed his movements, drawing out every ounce of your pleasure as his hands slid soothingly over your back. You felt his rhythm falter, his hips pressing deep one last time as he groaned your name. Heat flooded your core, his release a hot pulse that seemed to blend with your own pleasure, leaving you both utterly spent.

He stayed still for a moment, his breathing uneven as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. Then, with infinite tenderness, he withdrew from you and carefully helped you onto your back. His hands never left you, guiding you gently as though you were made of glass.

“Are you okay, my love?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. “More than okay,” you whispered.

He leaned down, brushing a kiss to your temple, then your nose, and finally your lips. His touch was feather-light. He grabbed one of your hands, bringing it to his lips as he peppered soft kisses along your knuckles and the back of your hand, his eyes twinkling with affection.

The tender gesture made you giggle, the sound light and airy, breaking the charged atmosphere with an intimacy that was uniquely yours. “What’s so funny?” he asked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Nothing,” you said through another laugh. “Just…you’re too sweet.”

He grinned, leaning down to press one last lingering kiss to your lips. “Only for you,” he murmured, his voice soft and genuine.

He gathered you into his arms, pulling you close against his chest. His warmth surrounded you, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing as your breathing slowed. As the night stretched on, you felt yourself drifting off, the safety and love in his arms lulling you into peaceful slumber.

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

got a new laptop on sale yayy 😎 hopefully a zoom meeting will no longer threaten to wipe out my whole machine

[lunarrolls]

i cannot fucking overstate how much i love fcg’s reasoning for helping the gods btw. they don’t want to save them because they believe in them, though they do—they want to save them because, deep down, the purpose they’ve always had, always wanted to have, is to help. he wants to save the gods because they’ve asked for his help, and in turn, he believes that they’ll be able to help more people across exandria. he believes that if he helps, the gods will pay that favor back and help others too. and i just. dear god i love that. fcg recklessly and relentlessly chooses kindness and seems to have come back even more determined to do so after their detour in wildemount and i absolutely cannot wait to see it

[ghostlycod]

“I have this scene in my head for my fic that I really love but i don’t feel like writing all of the other stuff to get to it.”

I see this comment like 5 times a day in fic writing spaces lol

a scene that you don’t want to write is a scene you don’t want to read. don’t write stuff you don’t want to read.

me, personally: wait until the scenes that get you to that first initial scene you were excited about are just as interesting as that scene too. it won’t be the first, second, or third thing you think of. if u have a scene you really want to write, write that, and keep writing only those exciting scenes that come to you. eventually you have a million interesting scenes for your fic and they become puzzle pieces for you to arrange and then eventually the strings come together and you realize you really do have an interesting way to get to that original scene, and you’re just as excited to write it, if you haven’t already written it when you were brainstorming other scenes earlier in the writing process that you didn’t even realize could carry your story like that.

[gristlegrinder]

i feel like i need some kind of tag for my demon game. tentatively considering #/spidersposting. i will force everybody to see my little criminals

[selfconsumerofmywoes]

won some money last week so splashed out on my food shop - it’s actually so nice to be able to sit and pick what i want to make rather than just scraping together whatever meal i can with what foods left in my fridge

[coco-loco-nut]

Gen Z

pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

summary: everyone seems to forget that Max is 26

a/n: not my favorite, but it’s something i’ve been working on for a while there will be no part two

requests open masterlist

—————

Breaking up with Kelly was extremely difficult for Max to do. Despite not being in love with her anymore, he was very aware of what would happen to P. Max knew it was better to break up than stay just because of P, so he bit the bullet. The next few months were lonely, having to readjust to being alone in Monaco with just his cats.

That’s when you came barreling into his life. Only two years younger than Max, you were a breath of fresh air for him. He really didn’t expect to fall for you, not so quick anyway.

You knew a bit about Formula One, but it was more to the extent that your home hosted a race, some drivers lived in the city, and your hairdresser’s son was a driver. It didn’t phase you when Max told you about his career and fame, you just thought the Dutchman was cute.

“Men who own cats are major green flags,” you told him over text when you first started dating. That might’ve been what really made Max fall for you. You made him feel young, understandably so. He was 19 when he first met Kelly, and she was 28.

Max taught you about the races, you helped him connect with his inner Gen Z. He taught you Dutch and how to game, you taught him slang and pop culture. The two of you were sitting on the couch a month before the Monaco GP, watching Cars of course, when Max asked you to join him at the race.

“Of course, anything for Lightning McQueen,” you squeeze his hand. You knew from TikTok that Charles, your boyfriend’s work husband, was Lightning McQueen, but how could that not be Max.

“Kachow,” Max says causing you to laugh. He has been watching the TikToks and reels you send him, usually something formula one or cars related.

Max is watching Cars 2 with you when he points out each driver in the movie. You store the knowledge in the back of your mind for when you watch classic races and Max explains things to you. You feel sufficiently ready for Monaco.

“Lewis, this is my girlfriend, Y/n,” Max introduces you to the Mercedes driver. You look at him, star stuck.

“I loved you in Cars,” you blurt out, causing Lewis to laugh and Max to hide his face in embarrassment. Max isn’t surprised, but he can’t believe this is how your first interaction is going. Lewis is just happy you aren’t with Max because he is a driver.

“Thank you, how old are you?” Lewis asks, ready to feel old.

“24, two years younger than Maxie,” you smile lovingly at your boyfriend.

“I forgot how young you actually are,” Lewis’s unspoken words hang in the air between him and Max. Now that you are dating someone closer to your own age.

Lewis’s statement seemed to be the general consensus when everyone saw you with him. Max looked and acted like he was 26. He was using slang you taught him, he was making pop culture references that he likely wouldn’t have known otherwise. He was getting to experience his twenty’s like he should have been, not as if he was much older than he was.

Lando was the most excited to meet you, not only were you his age, but you brought out Max’s inner child that Lando never could.

“I’m stealing your girlfriend,” Lando tells Max, wanting to claim you as his best friend.

“No,” Max deadpans.

“What if Lando is my bestie?” you ask Max, who can’t say no to you.

“Then I guess that’s okay,” Max kisses your temple.

“OMG, McLaren is doing another hide and seek video, you two should join,” Lando proposes.

“That actually sounds fun,” Max says, looking at you for confirmation.

“I’m in,” you smile, letting Lando lead the way.

The video is a hit, the fans are loving this version of Max. Max is loving this version of him too, for once he doesn’t feel like he has to grow up faster than he should.

“Stay away from her, she’s no good for you. Act like a grown up,” you overhear Jos tell Max as you come back to the garage from hospitality. You have yet to meet Jos, Max made it very clear that he doesn’t want you near his dad. The memes the two of you send back and forth are a good enough reason why, so you hang back.

“What do you mean? I am. I’m 26, why should I act like I’m 40? I am happier with her than I was with Kelly,” Max argues back, you hold yourself back.

“World Champions are serious, mature. Quit acting like Lando Norris and more like an adult,” Jos is seething.

“Ask Max to come back here, say the team needs him or something,” you as an engineer when you notice Jos getting angrier.

“Then why am I leading by a heavy margin already. You just can’t handle that I am putting myself first. What would you even know about being a champion? You never won a race!” Max yells. The engineer quickly cuts in and leads Max to you.

“You gagged him, baby. Are you okay?” Max hugs you, you just rub his back as he regulates his breathing.

“He’s an opp, for real,” Max mutters into your shoulder, causing you to snort with laughter.

“God, I love you,” you can’t contain the laughter. Max joins in, your smile is infectious.

“I did use it right, no?” Max asks between the laughter.

“You did, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you take a deep breath, calming down.

“No cap?”

“Alright, you are using too much. Where is old man Max, this is freaky,” you take a step back, the smile that remains on your face betrays your words.

“You got me into my gen z era, you get the consequences,” Max pulls you back into him as you groan in annoyance.

“I love you too,” he laughs, peppering your face with kisses.

And when a journalist is brave enough to ask about the shift in Max? He’s always eager to talk about you.

“My girlfriend forced me to watch hours of YouTube compilations about formula one memes. We are always sending different memes to each other, she definitely helps me remember to laugh more,” Max gushes.

“I guess we all forget that you aren’t nearly forty,” the journalist nods. Max answers a few more questions before finding you in his drivers room. He lays down on the couch, his head on your lap.

“What’s on your mind?” you run your hand through Max’s hair.

“Have I changed that much?” he asks, his blue eyes looking up at you.

“I don’t think so, I think you’ve just started being yourself around more people. You are still the same Max that I first met and fell in love with, everyone else is just seeing that Max,” you are confused about the question, but answer him. Max doesn’t reply, he just nuzzles closer to you.

“I like this version of me,” he says into your shirt a few minutes later, you keep playing with his hair.

“I’m glad, but I like every version of you, Max. Even old man Max,” you smile as he sits up.

“Old man? How about I show you how far from true that is,” there is a look in his eye that tells you that you just started something.

“And how will you do that?” you decide to entertain him as he slips his hands under your shirt.

“I don’t think I need to tell you.”

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

a/n: this is a Kofi reward!

A daily life in the bee hybrid queen is full of surprises. Though there is a set routine and long list of things you have to get done, you still end up spending a lot of that time getting into… interesting situations.

In the morning, your loyal attendants wake you up with a hearty breakfast. Fluffy pancakes covered in fresh honey, perfectly picked fruit, and your choice of eggs and/or meat.

“My queen…” one of your attendants coo, their hands roaming over your soft form. “It’s time for a bath…”

They all buzz with anticipation, excited to see their queen completely bare. Your body is the only one their yearn to touch and see, and it is their favorite part of the day when they get to bathe you.

They undress you with a gentleness you never felt before becoming queen, kissing being pressed into your neck and shoulders. You can feel them shudder and hear their needy whines, all desperate to get you naked as soon as possible.

Once you’re in the tub, you’re joined by your attendants, some washing your body and others moving their hands to your pretty cunt.

“So pretty…”

“My queen, my love…”

“Oh, what an amazing start to the day…”

You feel several cocks rutting against your thighs and soft tummy, and soon your hips are lifted into the lap of the attendant that gets his turn with you today.

A dreamy sigh leaves your lips as you’re settled onto his cock, another bee groping your tits behind you. Your nipples are pinched and tugged on as you’re bounced on his cock, the others buzzing and pouting.

It’s not long before he cums inside, leaving you feeling warm and comfortably full. After you’re satisfied and clean, they help you out of the tub and guide you to your vanity.

Once dressed, you’re escorted through the hive by a few guards, meeting with some of the noble bees and answering the worker bee questions. You always take the time to help those you can, and right before lunch you make your way towards the medical ward.

There are multiple injured bees from your hive and others as well. You’re a kind queen, allowing them to stay and receive care. Even if they don’t decide to join the hive, you see no reason to leave a hurt bee hybrid to die.

“My queen, your lunch is ready.”

You smile, following another guard to the cafeteria. On your way, you’re stolen from the guards and fingered in a closet, the worker bee begging to fill you with his eggs.

“P-please, my queen… I was injured when my turn came up, I need you…”

And being the kind queen you are, you lift up your leg and let him fuck into your warm cunt. His wings flutter behind him, his pants and whimpers filling your ears as he fills you with his eggs.

When the guards come looking, you give a random excuse to make sure the worker bee doesn’t get in any trouble. After all, you enjoy being so loved in the hive.

You yawned as you ate lunch, rubbing at your eyes. Your attendants noticed how exhausted you are, fretting over their beloved queen.

“She needs rest, you’ve been working her all day!” one of them protests, burying his face into your neck. The others nod and crowd you, pouting at the guards and officials.

Your attendants don’t have much power, but when it comes to your well being they are taken seriously.

“No, I’m alright.”

They buzz nervously as you stand, stretching a bit. “I just get sleepy after lunch sometimes.”

Despite saying this, you are followed as you go about other duties, several guards having to prevent them from crowding you while you attend to important matters.

After dinner you’re exhausted, but you allow your attendants to dress you in delicate and expensive lingerie as you’re presented before the bee hybrid colony. Each are eager for their turn, standing or hovering in line.

You’re pinned to your bed, a fat cock stretching you out as another nudges your lips. Your hands pump two others, your entire body being used by your subjects.

The queen has to be bred, to be filled with eggs. That is your duty, to mate with your subjects and make sure they all felt appreciated and loved.

A content subject was a loyal subject. Getting to kiss, touch, and be inside of their queen made their hearts full.

When you were covered in cum and exhausted, your attendants descended upon you, pushing away any other bee hybrids and carrying you away.

They cover you in kisses, quickly bathing and dressing you in soft pajamas then putting you to bed.

Being the queen of a hive of bee hybrids can be hard, but above all it is fulfilling.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko

[readwritealldayallnight]

Home

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 1.6k words

warnings/tags: fluff, kinda barely angst

Soap has to bite his lip to keep himself contained, absolutely itching to make another comment, take another jab at the Lieutenant sitting next to him who couldn’t seem to sit still. Ultimately he decides he’s rather fond of keeping his nose intact, and refrains from teasing Ghost further, for the sake of not being punched with a little over an hour to go until they reach base, if nothing else.

As excitable as the Scot usually is in any circumstance, he does have a point though, even Price has never seen Ghost so antsy to return from a mission before. The skull faced man keeps checking his watch every other minute as though it would motivate the seconds to tick by faster, he can’t seem to stop bouncing his leg in impatience, casting quick glances out the window every so often. He wants, no, needs this jet to land back at base already.

“Somewhere you need to be LT?” Soap feigns ignorance, a smirk across his face, apparently having refrained himself long enough since the last joke all of ten minute ago.

“Don’t ask me to take you to the medics when we land, mate.” Gaz comments casually, not bothering to look up from where he’s fiddling with a deck of cards in his hands, equally trying to pass the time. “You’re askin’ him for it.”

“Ach, I’m just curious to know wha’s got the big man in such a haste to leave his dear ol’ mates behind, ya ken? Almos’ as if he has somethin’ waitin’ for him back at home.” The blue eyed sergeant replies, casting a mischievous sideways glance towards the man in question.

“Reckon it’s more about who’s waitin’ for him.” The Captain pitches in himself, sending his own knowing glance at the Lieutenant.

Ghost can’t be bothered to acknowledge any of the conversation happening around or about him, checking his watch again. Not when he’s on his way home after being deployed for three months. Not when this is the longest he’s had to be away from you yet. Not when it feels as if a piece of his beating heart was ripped out from between his ribs and had made a home for itself in the fissure tearing through yours, leaving him feeling as though he was wholly and irrevocably missing a piece of himself.

Simon thinks he could spend the rest of his life learning every language that’s ever been spoken my mankind, and never have the proper words to explain how much your absence has shaken him to his core, how much he’s missed you. Utterly and simply, missed you.

The first month apart, he found himself missing the more obvious things. He missed your smile, your laugh, making you laugh. He missed your voice, hearing you hum in the shower, sing in the car, recount your day, talk in your sleep (you refuse to believe him when he tells you this, but he swears it’s true). He missed holding you, you holding him. Missed your touch, your kisses, your body. Missed the way you feel, the way you make him feel. Missed falling asleep to you and waking up to you.

The second month, he found that he was really starting to miss the little things. He missed the smell of your hair fresh out of the shower. He missed the way you always ask him to crack the eggs when baking because you insist he’s just better at it than you are, gets less shell in it. He missed you teasing him about his driving, holding your hand over the console, opening the door for you to watch you smile and roll your eyes every time.

As the mission dragged into its last month, Simon found he just missed you. Simply you. He missed watching you get ready for the day, getting dressed, going about your routine. He missed existing in the same space as you, hearing you move throughout the flat, always there even if he can’t always see you. He missed seeing traces of you, finding strands of your hair everywhere, tripping over shoes left in the doorway, seeing both your mugs together on the drying rack. Evidence of a life lived, together.

The nature of the 141’s work meant that things had to be kept extremely tight-lipped and on the strictest need to know basis, especially in ensuring the men’s safety. This meant never being able to know where Simon was going or was at any given moment. It meant not being able to speak on the phone, because even with the very best protection and programming, phone calls can be tapped, and traced. And while that one isn’t a precaution that everyone strictly follows, taking the occasional quick phone call to a loved one on a secured line, but Simon has been through too much, seen too much to every put you at risk, no matter how minuscule the risk may be. He simply won’t take it. Not with you.

And so you take up the next best thing, a tried and true method through time. You write him letters. You tell him that you don’t expect him to write back, you understand that he won’t want to write down an address someone could track you to, you haven’t put down a return address either, adding that you’re not even sure when and if he’ll be able to read or receive them.

You love this man with every fibre of your being, but you really do know next to nothing about this part of his life that takes up so much of his time. It feels like they’re stealing your time when they call him away, stealing time spent with him. The no contact was especially difficult for you in the beginning of your relationship. It had been the cause of your first fight with him.

You’d told him the time apart (a month, the longest you’d gone through back then) was too much, you missed him too much. Seeing you hurt, and hurting himself, equally as tense about the periods of long distance, Simon had angrily lashed out. He wasn’t used to this, someone caring about him this much, caring about you more just as much. Not only was the intensity of these feelings foreign, but you were wanting to talk about them now.

He’d asked you if you wanted him to leave you then, not wanting to go on hurting you if it really was too much, to which you replied that no, the solution to you being too sad when he’s gone isn’t to leave you permanently. Neither of you knew how to actually navigate this, and Simon was still harbouring deep, slowly healing wounds that made navigating this uncharted territory an endeavour that left him feeling vulnerable, exposed. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to leave you, but the thought of hurting you was equally as bothersome.

You two idiots in love had your first proper fight, had your first proper makeup, and eventually came up with a sort of placeholder solution. It wasn’t perfect, nothing about Simon being gone was ideal really, but for the two of you, it worked. While he’s away from home you write him a letter, not every day though, per his request (‘So that I don’t start to feel more like homework, yeah?’), only when something worth writing comes to mind. It winds up being about a letter every other day, anyway.

You mail them to their permanent base, and he either gets to read them when they’re delivered, or he’s rewarded with the sight of the envelope atop his desk upon returning from wherever else they may have been temporarily based for the time. He reads them, every single one. Over, and over, and over. He has them essentially memorized, as numerous as they are. Every squiggle of your pen, each little doodle you add in on occasion, depending on the story you might be telling. You usually try to keep them lighthearted, happy, something that can brighten his mood and reassure him you’re doing okay. But sometimes you’re honest, you admit when days are hard and his absence is especially difficult.

In turn, Simon writes his own letters. His process is a little different than yours is. While you’re writing yours as the days of his absence pass, he often arrives back on base to discover multiple envelopes piled atop one another, a sight akin to Christmas morning in his eyes. Still, he always diligently reads through each letter of yours, and for every one you write him, he takes his own pen to paper to write his response to each and every line you draft for him. He adds in comments, witty remarks, the occasional joke or fun fact, sprinkles in stories if he has any that fit. He tells you how he misses you too, wishes he could put these letters in your hands himself.

He will soon enough though.

He has his letters, papers that might seem so insignificant to anyone else on this jet, tucked in between a pair of extra clothes in his pack, in hopes of keeping them as safe as he can. The majority of your letters are carefully stuffed in there as well. The most special ones however, the ones you’ve written for him with your penmanship etched upon page after page of writing, with your lipstick stained kisses across them, with your perfume sprayed on them, those he has neatly folded and tucked under his vest, just above his heart.

Soon as his feet are back on solid ground and he’s dismissed, he’ll be making his way back to you. Where he’ll take out each and every one of those letters he’s written in response to you, and he’ll read them to you as he holds you in his arms, feeling your hearts beating against each others again, where they belong, and that’s how he’ll know he’s home.

[hysteria-things]

smut w chris and goody 2 shoes reader who always acts so smart and innocent w people then acts like a brat to chris?

he gets sick of it and roughly fucks her into her place , caring less for her pleasure and using her just so she knows how much of a slut she is!

LESSON LEARNED

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brat tamer!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get taught a lesson when you act like a brat in public.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, spanking, humiliation, face fucking, dry humping, squirting, p in v, rough sex, degradation, a sprinkle of praising, overstimulation, unprotected sex (no bueno!)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,502

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: HAPPY KINKTOBER!!!

this is based off one of my blurbs from a while ago😜

your reputation to others is excellent. you’re a nice girl, who is outgoing and will always follow directions or help whoever is in need. goody two shoes is what people mostly describe you as, which isn’t that far off. however, when you’re with your significant other, your bratty side slips up.

“let me go!” you tell chris like you’re a toddler, stomping your feet while he leads you to his bedroom. “i’m being serious!”

opening the door, he lets go of your wrist to have you lead inside, yelping when his palm smacks your ass to usher you more quickly before bending you over the edge of his computer desk. pouting your lips, you hear his heavy breathing as he forcibly pulls up your skirt. you know what’s coming. your punishment.

your eyes start to well up, feeling the slightest bit bad that you acted like a brat in front of his friends, but you’re one of all things. “o-one.” you say between a sob when your boyfriend’s hand slaps your ass for the first time out of many to come tonight. you start spewing out apologies, wiggling in his grip that’s pinned your hands behind your back. “i’m sorry, okay?” you admit, his hand spanking you once more. “i didn’t mean to!”

“if you didn’t mean to you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” chris snarls back, followed by another smack. “keep counting,” he says through gritted teeth.

SPANK.

your cries echo throughout the room as he continues to punish your reddening bottom. each slap lands with accuracy, leaving its mark on your tender skin. your tears fall on your cheeks now, mixing with the stinging sensation. “seven... eight... nine!" you wail, your voice hoarse from yelling. your body shakes with each impact, trying to squirm away another time. again, no use.

his palm connects again, the force jolting you. the pain courses to your core, pussy throbbing in response with a mix of mercy and arousal. “ten! i swear i won’t do it again!” you plea, desperate for at least some sympathy. alas, chris remains careless, his anger still fresh.

he acts like he didn’t even hear your lame apology, his focus only on disciplining you for your actions. raising his hand high, he prepares himself for another smack against your now-colored rear. “eleven.” he says under his breath, starting to count for you. the sound of skin meeting skin chimes, along with your pained whimper. he pauses for a moment, letting you take a breath to let your punishment sink in — and there’s no way out of it. then, without warning, his hand comes down again, striking your already sore ass with a vicious hit.

“twelve.” chris states clearly, his tone lacking mercy. he continues this harsh pattern, each spank followed by a number. “thirteen... fourteen... fifteen...” the more he counts, the more you sob.

“sixteen… seventeen!” you take back your job, shouting after each brutal strike. your body trembles, feeling like every nerve is in pain. the heat from your bruised cheeks radiate down to your thighs and the folds of your pussy. despite being punished, you feel thrilling and excited all in one. “eighteen... nineteen... twenty!” you choke out, your voice barely audible over your heavy breathing. the tears keep streaming, skin shining from sweat.

by the time his hand falls for the twentieth time, your bottom is a crimson mess. the sting lingers, knowing it’ll be that way for days. yet, you’ve never been so turned on.

chris finally stops after the last spank, admiring his work. your ass is a beautiful shade of red, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. he can see the arousal glistening between your thighs, a clear visual of what this has been doing for you.

with a firm grip, he grabs your hair and pulls your head back, forcing you to look at him. his eyes stare into yours, filled with a mixture of anger and desire. “what a fucking brat.” he sneers, his other hand roughly groping your numbing ass cheek. he releases your hair, pushing himself off of you with so much force you fall to the ground, landing with a thud. from the impact, your butt stings even more.

curling into a ball, you wrap your arms in front of your legs and cry softly. “i-i’m sorry, chris.” you whine, voice shaking. the humiliation of being bent over and spanked like a naughty child, combined with the intense physical sensations, leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

despite the pain, you can't ignore the ache between your legs. your cunt throbs with a need that it’s confusing. you’ve never felt this way before, and it scares you.

chris watches you on the floor, a smirk playing on his lips. he knows exactly what's going through your mind. “get up.” he snaps, standing tall and towering over you. “and get on the bed; on your knees. now.” he waits, expecting a protest, but he doesn’t receive one. that means it’s working.

once you're in position, he comes over, his cock already half hard. “if you're going to act like a brat, you'll learn how to get treated like one, too.” chris explains, running a hand through your hair. he unbuckles his jeans so they fall freely onto the floor, dick springing out right in front of you while gripping your hair and pushing his tip against your lips. “open up.”

trembling, you part your lips, allowing chris to guide his thick cock past them. the taste of pre-cum fills your mouth as he thrusts deeper, hitting the back of your throat. “mmph.” you gag slightly around his length, eyes glossy. you don’t pull away, of course. instead, you relax your jaw to accommodate him.

he sets a steady pace, fucking your face with elongated strokes. each snap of the hips sends vibrations through your head, making your nose pressed against his pelvis. your hands grasp at the sheets below, wanting to hold onto something since he’s in full domination. you’re uncomfortable, but your pussy continues to clench with need, juices dripping down your thighs. without thinking, you start humping the blanket to try and get friction on your clit like a bitch in heat.

groaning in satisfaction as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, he can feel your throat tighten around him, fighting to breathe around his girth. “that’s it, take it all.” he grunts, holding your head in place as he ruts in and out of your stretched lips. “this is what brats like you deserve.”

taking his free hand, he reaches down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. the sight of you, tear-streaked and submissive, only makes him want more. noticing your desperate humping, he chuckles deeply. “look at you, getting off like a pretty little thing. you do enjoy this, don't you?”

you moan muffled around chris’ cock as he continues to use your mouth, driving you wild. “mmph! mmph!” you manage to respond, nodding frantically at his question. your hips buck harder against the bed, chasing the friction your clit needs. your pussy clenches tightly, a clear substance gushing out to soak the bedding beneath you.

seeing you drench the sheets, he grins, knowing he's pushed you to ultimate submission. he speeds up his thrusts, fucking your face with more power. “yeah.” he grunts, watching you fall apart beneath him. “you filthy slut. show me how much you love taking this dick like a good little whore.”

his words are degrading, but you enjoy the hell out of it. your mind goes blank, focusing on the feeling of his cock in your mouth and the desperate need pulsing between your thighs. sensing your climax, he pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air and drooling. before you can recover, he flips you over onto your back and yanks your legs apart.

panting heavily, you stare up at chris in a daze, your body still shaking from the intensity of the previous actions. the sudden loss of his dick in your mouth leaves you feeling empty. you. want. more.

the exposing of your dripping cunt has his eyes widen, as if he’s a kid in a candy shop. “jesus, chris.” you whimper, feeling ashamed by how pathetic you seem right now. “please.” you’re desperate, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. release? punishment? his harsh words? all you know is that you’re craving every bit of him.

chris takes in the sight of your exposed, fluttering hole, his horniness shooting straight to his dick. “you want it?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the swollen slit of your pussy. “you want my cock inside you; stretching out every inch of this needy pussy?”

when you’re about to answer, he lines himself up and plows in deep, burying himself in one stroke. a guttural groan rips from his chest at the tightness gripping him. “holy shit, you were made for this.” chris exhales, each pump of his hips driving him impossibly deeper. “taking my cock like the perfect slut you are.”

a sharp cry tickles your throat as he thrusts into you, the sudden stretch sending waves of pleasure and pain through your core. your nails dig into the sheets as he fucks you, each ruthless thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you and sending stars flying behind your eyelids. “yeah! oh, fuck, yeah!” you shout, your hips bucking fast to meet his brutal rhythm. “making me feel so good!”

the filthy words spill from your lips before it’s too late, fueled by the overwhelming pleasure you’re experiencing. you’ve never felt so full. his cock is hard inside you, pounding repeatedly against your cervix with each stroke.

his eyes flash with possession as he rails into you, living for the way your cunt clenches around him, gripping him deep. his balls slap against your ass with every violent thrust, the lewd sound mixing with your wanton cries. “mhm, scream for me.” he says, angling his hips to hit your g-spot just right. “let everyone hear what a cock sleeve you are for me.”

leaning down to your chest, he takes a nipple and swirls his tongue around it. his other hand snakes between your bodies to rub circles over your clit, wanting to push you over the edge. “cum on my cock, you filthy girl.” chris demands, his voice filled with lust.

each bite to your nipple sends sparks of ecstasy through your veins while his stimulation on your clit has you close to the brink of release. “oh god, oh god! i’m-i’m gonna—” your words turn into incoherent babbling as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. your pussy clamps down viciously on his length, milking him as your body shakes and becomes limp beneath him.

the grip on your clit tightens, prolonging your pleasure as he chases his release. with a final, sharp thrust, he buries himself and cums inside you, filling your spasming cunt with his seed. his cock throbs with each string until he collapses on top of you, his weight pushing you further into the mattress. “fuck, that was amazing.” he pants, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “and it’s all for me.” he whispers in your ear, referring to your body.

after a moment of silence, he pulls out with a wet pop. a trail of cum flows, painting your thighs with its sticky substance. he rolls off of you with a satisfied smile, but bites his lip when he spots his cum on you. “turn around and show me that pretty ass.”

“what—” you’re cut off when he guides you on your hands and knees, in the position he wants you in. his favorite; ass up with your pussy on full display. a shiver runs down your spine. it was silly to think you were getting off the hook that easy.

he shifts behind you, hands grasping your thighs as he aligns himself between your spread legs. one finger traces the marks he left earlier, your hips backing into him unknowingly. “so eager. tell me what you need, slut. beg for it.” he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance, letting you feel his growing erection.

chris waits patiently, your body practically calling his name to be filled again. he can see the desperation in the way you arch your back, presenting yourself even more. “you know what to say.” he points out. “i want to hear those dirty words from your smart mouth.”

he delivers a sharp smack to one cheek, watching the flesh jiggle and flush pink under the force. he massages the sting away, waiting for you to give him what he wants. “please, chris.” you pout, feeling embarrassed about how at this moment you can’t live without his cock. “please, fuck me again, baby. use me however you want.” it seems like you don’t know who you are anymore. hours ago you were tough and mighty, but now you’re small and submissive.

pulling you back against him, he lines up his dick with your soaked sex. “that’s it, princess.” he says, his breath hot against your ear. “swallowing my cock like the good girl i know.”

bullying himself inside of your used hole, your eyes roll back from being filled with him again. just as before, you wrap deliciously around him. he sets a quick pace, the sound of your bodies conjoining bouncing off of the walls. “you’re still so tight.” he hisses.

your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he slams into you, the wideness spreading you open and hitting spots you didn't know existed. it’s almost too much, but you love it. “yes! yes! yes!” you cry out, meeting each of his powerful thrusts. “h-harder.”

the explicit sounds of your guys’ love making fill the air, conjoining with your moans and the slap of skin. you can feel another orgasm building, your walls fluttering wildly around his base. “do-don’t stop. don't ever stop.” you babble incoherently, lost in the trance of ecstasy. “i’m g-gonna—”

feeling your gummy walls squeeze around him, chris is determined to bring you to release. “cum for me.” he insists, brunette strands sticking to his forehead. “come on, give it to me.”

he can feel his own high approaching, his balls tightening as he nears. he holds back, wanting to put you before him. walls spasming, your moans become a higher pitch. “i’m cumming! fuck, i’m—” you don’t finish your sentence when the familiar ring of white moves down his shaft. chris fills you up one more time shortly after, ropes of cum shooting into your womb.

exhausted is an understatement. you know damn well you’re going to be walking from side to side for days, possibly weeks. “i love you so fucking much.” he breathes from next to you, kissing your shoulder. you hum in response, shutting your eyes. if that didn’t make you learn your lesson, you don’t know what will.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @deareststurns

[missarchive]

ok ok ok!! what about spencer getting head from reader for the first time, and it's her first time doing it, so she's nervous and he teaches her and he has to try sooo hard not to cum immediately because he is just GONE for the innocence with which she does it/tries things out 🤭 you choose what season spence!!

Decided to do one more for tonight!! (I’m feeling generous)

thank you for the request!! im always writing munch!spencer but it's nice to write things the other way round for once

cw; +18 minors dni, inexperienced!reader, tiny bit of dom!spencer if you squint, oral (m. receiving), cum swallowing

When you first kneel before him, his breath catches in his throat, and he’s certain he might lose himself right then and there. The sight of you—so eager, so nervous—renders him utterly helpless. Your hands reach for his belt with a mixture of determination and trepidation, your cheeks flushed a rosy hue that makes you look impossibly innocent yet utterly intoxicating. His jaw slackens as he watches you, his heart pounding against his ribs like a war drum.

Your wide eyes flicker up to meet his, glinting with excitement and a touch of uncertainty. He’s been dreaming of this moment for what feels like forever, and now that it’s unfolding, every muscle in his body tenses, locked in an unbearable anticipation.

Your fingers fumble with his belt, the clumsy motions endearing rather than frustrating. He doesn’t mind the delay; in fact, it only heightens his awareness of you—of how genuine, how completely you this moment is. He knows this is your first time. Not just with him, but ever. You’d told him, shyly, how you’d researched, how you’d prepared for this, even asking friends for advice. Still, the vulnerability of trying it now, with him, makes his chest tighten.

His hands find their way to your hair, almost of their own volition. The silky strands slip through his fingers like water, grounding him. You haven’t protested, haven’t pulled back, and the faint smile on your lips reassures him that you’re okay with this—more than okay. You glance up at him again, brow furrowed slightly in concentration, and the sight makes his heart stutter.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice rough with emotion. He needs you to be comfortable, to know that he’ll stop the moment you ask.

You pause, your hands stilling, and you smile at him, a gentle curve of your lips that speaks volumes. “I’m okay,” you whisper.

Finally, you manage to undo his pants, your small hand brushing against his erection as you pull down the zipper. He groans at the brief contact, the sound guttural and raw. When your fingers wrap hesitantly around him, his breath hitches, and he can’t stop the way his hips shift forward, seeking more of your touch.

“God,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. Your touch is tentative, exploratory, and it sends jolts of pleasure straight to his core.

You look up at him, startled by the intensity of his reaction. “Is that... okay?” you ask, your voice laced with innocence and curiosity.

“It’s more than okay,” he rasps, his hands moving to your shoulders, needing something to hold onto, to anchor himself. “You’re perfect.”

Encouraged, you start to stroke him, your hand sliding up and down his shaft in slow, deliberate movements. He watches you, his gaze locked on the way your small hand moves over him. The sight alone is almost too much.

When your tongue darts out to wet your lips, he groans deeply, his head falling back for a moment as he imagines that mouth on him. The vividness of the fantasy sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through him.

“Baby,” he says, his voice strained, “I’m not going to last much longer like this.”

Your eyes widen slightly, disbelief flickering across your features. He chuckles softly despite himself, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he confesses, his voice heavy with sincerity.

“I just... I’ve never done this before,” you admit shyly, your cheeks flushing deeper. “I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Baby, you’re not doing anything wrong,” he assures you, his hands moving to cradle your face. The warmth of your skin beneath his palms soothes and excites him all at once. “Can I show you?”

You nod, your expression curious, and he takes a steadying breath, his restraint hanging by a thread. Gently, he guides your hand away, needing a moment to compose himself before he completely unravels.

“Like this?” you ask, your voice so soft it’s almost a whisper. The innocent question makes his chest tighten with affection and desire.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “Just like that. Only with your mouth.”

His hand moves to the back of your head, not to push or force but to guide. He’s desperate for this but careful, wanting you to feel safe, to enjoy it as much as he knows he will.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he urges, his voice gentle but firm.

“Okay,” you reply, nodding.

When your lips part and touch the tip of his cock, he shudders violently, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat. The wet heat of your mouth surrounds him, and it’s so much better than he ever imagined.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his head falling back as you take him deeper, your tongue flicking against him experimentally. His hands clutch the sheets, desperate for something to hold as his hips jerk involuntarily.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” he groans, his voice thick with need. “You’re incredible.”

Bolstered by his praise, you take him in again, this time with more confidence. Your mouth moves over him slowly, tentatively, and the sensation is almost overwhelming.

“God,” he groans, his voice ragged. “I’m going to come.”

His hand returns to your hair, fingers threading through it as he fights the urge to thrust deeper into your mouth. He doesn’t want to push too far, to take too much.

When he finally lets go, the release is overwhelming, a rush of pleasure so intense it leaves him trembling. You stay with him through it, warm spurts of cum painting the back of your throat.

As you pull back, you wipe your mouth with a shy smile, and he reaches for you, pulling you into his arms. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, his heart still racing as he holds you close.

“Was it... good?” you ask, your voice small and uncertain.

“It was amazing,” he says, his voice hoarse with emotion. “You were amazing.”

Your giggle lights up the room, and his chest swells with affection. “I thought I did it wrong at first,” you admit, laughing softly.

“You were perfect,” he assures you, kissing you again. “Better than I ever imagined.”

[lavenderspence]

Missing the happy hormone | S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: emotional reader, period mention, fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Apparently Spencer Reid could make anything better - even the emotional disaster of being on your period

A/N: First, huge thank you to the cutie that sent in this request, you literally caught me while on my period so this was born. Also, here’s to my inability to write short fics, this is your only warning that i can make and will make anything long, lol. Also, my titles suck omg. And shoutout to my crazy bestie for making me a Mamma Mia girly, she rocks.

But also, happy one month to this blog! When I carved out this little space for myself a month ago I wasn’t really sure how I’d feel being back here and writing again, but so far it’s been a treat. A huge thank you for all of your support and love and thank you to my mutuals and everyone that interacted with my blog. 💕 Here’s to many more months to come!

Request: spencer x fem!reader on her period/ovulating and shes in tears all the time?? Im ovulating and have been crying for hours and keep calling my mom lmaoo he’d been so lovely and sweet I know it I can feel it in my bones

masterlist

It was a slow day at the BAU. The most exciting thing in the 6 hours Spencer had spent at work was Rossi’s invitation to dinner the following weekend. 

Paperwork had piled high after their last 2 cases, so every team member was hunched over their desk, writing and revising reports. It was a never-ending cycle - finish a report, close the file, open a new one, and start all over again.

His eyes had started getting tired after four and a half hours, his hand had started cramping and he was down two pens so far, yet there was still a prominent pile on his desk.

He suspected Morgan and Emily might have pushed a file or two from theirs onto his load, seeing as he was getting done the fastest. Regardless, every few hours JJ was bringing even more to pile on top of everything that wasn’t finished, so buried in paperwork they stayed - no matter how fast he wrote or read, or how used to the load he was.

He was just thinking about getting up to prepare a fresh pot of coffee so he could function properly for a few more hours when his phone started ringing. He felt around the pockets of his suit jacket, where it sat draped on his chair, and then pulled it free. 

His display showed an incoming call, a picture of you as he hugged you, hands around your middle and face almost buried into your neck, a soft smile gracing both your faces. A scenery rich with reds, browns, and yellows stood behind you, the beauty of fall was nothing short of spectacular. 

The picture you’d taken last year when the team spent a weekend at Rossi’s cabin in the woods, surrounded by the beauty of landscapes and leaves, nature for miles. 

He accepted the call right away, a small smile on his face. 

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, if a little raspy from misuse. He hadn’t talked much in the last few hours - just a distracted short answer here or a hum there. He was happy you were calling, though, welcoming the reprieve from the most recent report. 

It was silent for a few seconds, and he wondered absentmindedly if maybe you hadn’t called him on accident, and then there came a tiny little sniffle from your side. 

“Sweetheart?” He prompted, “Are you there? What’s going on?” Worry was starting to creep into the base of his spine, but he still remained calm and kept his voice gentle. 

“I’m here. Hi.” Another small sniffle, “All’s good. Just…I was just wondering how much longer you’d be gone.” Your voice was small,like you thought you might upset him by asking, and a little crackly, like you yourself were upset about something. 

His eyebrows furrowed, and he checked the time quickly - 3:57 pm. 

“Probably about two more hours, there’s a lot of paperwork we need to go through.” His eyes met Emily’s as she sent him a curious, questioning look. 

“Oh, okay.” The resignation was clear in your voice, “I’ll see you later then.” The call ended abruptly, and it took him a second to catch up.

He couldn’t help but feel like not everything was as good as you claimed it was. For one, you rarely called to ask when he’d be home - you knew his work could span into the late hours, or even stretch for days. You let him update you on any changes in his work schedule. 

In your interactions, your voice was usually upbeat and teasing - especially on the phone. Your kindness was always evident in your voice, as was your mood. You were a sunshine person, if he ever met one, that’s probably why you and Penelope formed such a close bond upon meeting. 

There was something that nagged him - a change in your mood he could pick up on just by your voice - too low, too small, and the cracks that he could now identify as he replayed your conversation in his head. You were keeping yourself from crying out, and yet there was nothing more apparent than the tears in your voice. And that made him worry. 

“Reid, are you okay?” Emily’s voice snapped him from the hard stare he’d been giving his phone in the last several minutes since the call ended. 

“I…I don’t know.” His eye twitched, and he cleared his throat before he tried and failed to articulate exactly what was happening - he himself had a hard time understanding. One thing he knew was that he needed to get home. “I..um, I need to go. Can you, please?” He asked, gusting at the remaining three files on his desk before he pulled his suit jacket on and grabbed his satchel. 

Morgan and Emily shared a mildly concerned look before they both nodded their heads, “Yeah, go. Text to let us know if everything is okay.” Morgan reminded him before he exited the bullpen with a fast step and tried to keep calm.

He was aware the situation wasn’t anything that he needed to be incredibly worried over - if something was really wrong, he knew you would have let him know. Yet, he couldn’t help the way his heart constricted by the sound of your voice, or the overwhelming desire to come home and gently hold you, see what could have caused this behavior. 

You were curled up on the couch, watching as Donna helped Sophie get ready for her wedding, the gentle melody of “Slipping through my fingers” filling the empty apartment. Your eyes were watering, to the point that everything was starting to get blurry. A shaky exhale left your lips.

Today has simply been a rollercoaster. Kissing Spencer goodbye this morning was the highlight of the day. What followed was nothing short of an emotional disaster. 

You’d teared up during breakfast, images of picking berries with Spencer flying through your mind. The desire to make it a reality was strong. 

Following that had come the overwhelming urge to bawl your eyes out, for no apparent reason whatsoever. Just cry and cry until you had it all emptied out and you could take a deep breath and continue with your day. So, cry you did, and then you’d finished with your chores for the day. 

Apparently letting it all out and emptying your tear supply hadn’t happened. Seeing as around 3:30 you’d started missing your boyfriend so much, the need to hear his voice had won out, so you’d called him. You felt the need to have him home to hold you because this month’s visit from mother flow was making you feel like a crybaby.

But then there was disappointment at the notion that you needed to wait close to 3 hours before that could happen. So you quickly ended the call before he could pick up on the tone of your voice, and then you shed a few tears. 

Now here you were, rewatching Mamma Mia because you really needed a pick me up, and once again, eyes shining as the tears started falling. At this point, it was a losing battle, so you let them fall, humming to the song with a broken voice. 

That’s exactly how Spencer found you, not a minute later. His keys were in his hand, the satchel on his shoulder, and he was just a little bit out of breath. 

The moment his eyes met you, they softened as he dropped everything and sat down next to you. His hand reached up and he cradled the side of your face, wiping your tears away. 

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper.

“Look at Donna painting Sophie’s nails, it’s...” You hiccuped, another wave of tears washing over you. “And you’re home, why are you home?” Your question was met with a furrow in his brow, as his thumbs continued wiping underneath your eyes. 

“You called.” He answered simply. 

“But you said-” He stopped you before you could finish your sentence.

“I did, yes. But you sounded off and sad, so. Want to tell me what’s going on?” He prompted you gently as he pushed your hair back and pulled you into his lap after, feeling like you needed the physical contact. 

You weren’t ashamed to admit it, per se, but you were ashamed that your hormones had caused him to leave work and race home to be with you. 

“It’s my period,” you mumbled, hands wrapping around his neck as you hid your face in his chest, too tired to prevent your eyes from watering again. “It’s been going on all day. Randomly, I’d just get so emotional, and the tears would start. I was missing you so much too, and then hearing the song, bam, tears again. I’m so done with this Spence.” You sounded barely coherent, with your face pushed as close to him as possible. 

It all made sense now, you’d been cranky a few days ago, and then you’d told him last night your cramps were unbearable, so he knew you were on your period, but right now he felt like an idiot for not figuring it out himself. 

“It’s okay, everything is fine. The drop in estrogen and progesterone, following your ovulation triggered this. This in turn reduced the production of serotonin, your happy hormone. So, we just need to boost it a bit.” He whispered into your ear as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“How?” You sighed into his chest, almost being able to pick up on the sound of his heartbeat.

He got deep in thought for a few seconds as you breathed in his scent, and a sense of calmness slowly overtook you now that he was home and holding you. One of his hands was running soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand, fingers interlocked. 

“How about we take a trip to the store and get you some snacks? We’ll pick up dinner on the way home and then I'll hold you some more and you'll pick a movie for us to watch.” He suggested, kissing the crown of your head once, twice, and many more times until you gave him an answer. 

“Yeah, yeah, I think that would help, but just having you here has done wonders.” You finally laid your head against his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. He smiled, and so did you. Having him here really had helped immensely, and when had it not? He was your other half, your rock, and even when your emotions ran rampant or you were feeling down, just his presence, his touch, and his understanding were enough to make it all okay. 

Later in the evening, Penelope sent you a photo of Sergio sleep-hugging a little plushy you’d gotten him, and the waterworks started all over again. Luckily, Spencer was there, wiping your tears and kissing your head, saying a thousand things without actually speaking a word.

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