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biteyoubiteme · 1 month ago

Text

mystery flavored

hueningkai x fem!reader

synopsis: kai lives across from you and has a perfect view of your bed.

warnings: 🔞!!! perv!kai, masturbation (m! and f!), slight fingering, no protection, creampie, prob forgot some

wc: 2.7k

an: so sorry this one took a while but I should be back on track now <33 not proofreading i’m so sorry lol feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober evert check out the other fics ! [dumdum m.list]

It started as a simple little crush. You had moved into the building next to his, and your friends were helping you with the boxes and furniture. Kai had been busy working on a deadline, his desk a mess with all his papers and books, his hand curled in his hair, trying to blink away the strain he had put on his eyes staring at his laptop for so long. It was late, and all your friends had gone home after helping, but you were in your room setting things up.

He had made it a habit not to look into the window across from his, the previous tenants always leaving their blinds open. He never was nosey, not when he didn’t want anyone looking back. But his desk was pressed right against the windowsill, the short distance between your buildings giving the perfect view right across from him.

He had hit submit on his paper closing his laptop leaving darkness pooling around him the only streak of light coming from your window. You were standing on a chair, arms lifted above you as you messed with the curtain rod. Your tank top had ridden up your stomach exposing your navel and waistband of your shorts. All that skin on display making him do a double take.

He didn't think he would see you again like this after you put up your curtains but to his surprise, they weren’t the type to keep out light. The sheer lacy fabric still gives him the outline of your body. At least when you had them closed and you hardly ever made time to fuss over them after pushing them open a few months ago.

He told himself he wouldn’t look. Ran the consequences over and over in his head if he was ever caught. But he always did his work so late, late enough for you to already be in bed, sometimes late enough to see you get home from staying out all night.

It was that one night that changed it for him. He could see you sleepily fumbling to turn on your lamp, the golden light framing you as you tugged off your shirt and pushed down your jeans. You walked to your closet in only your underwear, your back to him as you slipped off your bra.

You had pulled out an oversized t-shirt putting it on before climbing into bed and reaching over to turn the lamp off on your bedside table. He hadn’t seen more than the equivalent of a bikini at a beach but he couldn’t shake the image. It was the first time he touched himself to the thought of you.

Every time after that he always told himself it was the last time, he would be at his desk with his laptop open but not on so you wouldn't see the light, and he would try so hard not to let his face give himself away just in case you ever looked over. His hair hanging in his eyes hiding his expression if he looked down, or at least that's what he told himself would keep him covered.

In the beginning, he would always finish and think he was the worst, “never again,” he'd vow only to be called right back to that window.

Then it progressed into more, both of you taking the same walk to campus and without even realizing it he knew your schedule better than his own. and when the new semester started he found that the two of you had one class together. Your seat is right in front of his.

It was a big lecture hall but a small class so it was easy to notice how spread out everyone else was in the room. But this was the closest he had been without the windows between you two so he didn't want to miss the opportunity. Not that he was confident enough to speak to you in the first place but he was hoping you would need a pen or last week's notes, anything that the proximity would lead you to picking him to ask.

He went home to his room feeling better than he had in a while, watching the way you came back later that day, tossing your bag near the foot of your desk, laptop pushed open as you took your seat. He was in darkness watching as you clicked open your assignments, flipping through the different tabs before he watched you sigh, closing your laptop altogether without doing anything you needed to. Instead, you push away from your desk before falling into your bed, arm thrown over your eyes to block out the light from your lamp.

It isn't until a few minutes later that Kai notices the way you are rubbing your thighs together, the way your hand is slipping down into your pants. It’s not the first time he’s caught you like this, hips grinding into your palm, mouth open in a moan he wishes he could hear. The bed was in just the right spot for him to see everything as you pushed your pants down.

He tried to tell himself not to but it wasn’t in his nature to resist this kind of temptation. He was so hard in his sweatpants that he was sure if he accidentally brushed his bulge it would be painful. Even when he was younger he’d never gotten hard this fast but with one glance in your direction with you on your bed he couldn’t help himself.

Your legs were spreading just for him, the perfect view of this performance as you worked yourself. Kai was matching his pace to yours, picking up the rhythm with ease. And even if you couldn't hear him he tried to stay quiet, fighting back every moan, the struggle turning the sounds to desperate whimpers in the back of his throat.

Knows it's hitting you by the way your body reacts, knees pulling in, back arching, mouth caught slightly open. He wants to keep watching but he has to press his face against his desk because there is no hiding his expression as he lets himself go. His cum dots his sweatshirt and hand as he gasps, the cold wood of his desk pressed to his heated cheek. When he sits back up he sees you lift your slick fingers to your mouth, cleaning them off exactly as he would. He's never craved something so much.

But when he's back in class with you seated in front of him he can't focus. Mind wandering back to the night before, missing everything the professor was saying. It isn't until you turn your head catching him looking right at you that he's jolted back to reality.

You can't help but smile watching the way his blush starts so suddenly. He's trying to look down at his paper, realizing he hasn't been taking notes this whole time, head snapping up to the board with the slide show already over.

“Here,” you offer your notebook over to him, “we are partnering up for the next project so you can just give it to me next week,”

“We are partnering up?”

“You didn't hear our names called together?”

“I-um- I kinda zoned out,” he confesses, trying to laugh it off but wanting to fall through the floor.

“I get it, this wasn't too interesting a lecture,” you smile reaching over for his blank notebook, “here I'll write my number down so we can plan when we can meet up about getting this project done,”

Only it isn't even two days later and you catch him on his walk home. Your hand on his arm makes him jump. “I'm sorry I thought you heard me calling you,” you laugh, “but I'm so glad I caught you because I actually need my notes back from the other day. I forgot I wrote the pages for the reading down in there,”

“O-okay, they’re back at my place, I just finished with them last night,” he's completely flustered after being caught off guard, trying not to look you in the eyes as if the second you looked you would know his secret.

You're kind of surprised at how shy he is around you when you've seen him seem so open with his friends around campus. Now he's a stuttering flushed mess in front of you trying to keep one foot in front of the other not to trip and embarrass himself anymore. He leads you right up to his apartment, pushing open his door and apologizing for a mess that isn't there.

He expects you to wait by the door while he goes to pick up your notebook from his desk but you follow right behind him. The space feels suffocating as the two of you stand in his room, the pile of plushies on his bed seeming so much bigger now that he's seeing it from your perspective. But it isn't the first thing that you notice.

The glow from the lamp you'd accidentally left on was cutting out a space on his desk, the light pooling on the finished wood like a confession he didn't want to spill. He doesn't even notice at first until you sigh, “damn I always forget to turn that one off,”

You're looking at your room from this new perspective, the way your bed is angled just right to line up with the window. Kai is trying to swallow the lump in his throat, mouth opening and closing like he could say something that wouldn’t make him feel like he was caught. But it wasn’t like you didn't know.

You had seen him looking on that first night and although you knew you shouldn't like the way it made you feel it had the opposite effect.

At first, it was a little cute the way he tried hard not to look in but as soon as the first time you noticed him masturbating to you it was hard not to purposefully toy with him. Having him in front of you now only made it all the better. “Be honest, have you ever looked over into my room?” you ask sitting on the edge of his bed.

Kai doesn't know if he should lie, knows that if he tells the truth you would think about all the times the windows have been wide open while you changed or worse. But if he lies and you have seen him looking he doesn't know if he will ever recover. “You never- um- you don't-”

“Close my curtains?” you tilt your head watching the way he's gripping your notebook, “I should do that huh? Especially when I have neighbors who like to watch when I touch myself,”

Kai thinks his knees could actually be jelly at this point. “I- I can e-explain-” he's hot all over, trying to make up for the fact he's been watching you by not having his eyes meet yours. Not when you're on the bed because if he thinks about you in or on his bed he will be hard and it's not the time.

“It's okay, I don't think you really could explain it away,” you giggle leaning back on your hands, ”but you know what I'd like to see? I'd like it if you’d show me how you touch yourself when you watch me,"

His eyes snap over to you for the first time to really take you in. The way you seem so calm, legs crossed in front of you watching how he's shocked speechless. “It's only fair, you never do show in return,”

Kai doesn't even know how he's found himself here now, with you in his bed with one of his plushies in your lap as he leans back on his desk chair and tries not to cum too quickly with your eyes on him. Every few seconds he has to pull his hand away from his cock edge himself before you're egging him on, “Keep going, I know you can last longer than that,”

“I can't-” his hair falls into his eyes as he shakes his head, “I want-” he pulls his hand away, cock twitching against his stomach as he struggles for words.

“You want what? Do you want to fuck me? Is that what you're saving yourself for?” you ask laying yourself back against his pillows and stuffies, knees spreading letting him see up your skirt. The wet spot on your panties mesmerizes him like he's never seen this sight before. “I don't know if you deserve it,”

“I'm sorry, I'm-” he has to stop his slow pumps again, fingers just barely circling his tip but even that might be too much.

Pushing your panties to the side you slide your fingers through your folds, his eyes trained on the movement, both of you whimpering as you play with your clit. Kai can't even think as he moves to the bed, needing to be closer to you. He lays next to you, veiny cock pressed to the outside of your thigh, grinding into your leg showing just how needy he is.

“Did you think about me in your bed when you touched yourself? Or did you climb in with me in mine?” you reach for his hand bringing it down between your legs. “Did you imagine it was your hands on me instead of my own?”

You guide his fingers over your clit, letting him take control when he presses his face into your shoulder, moaning at the feel of how warm and wet you are.

His hips are matching the way he’s rubbing against your clit. It’s almost too much for him and when you ask, “Are you going to just play or are you going to fuck me?” he can’t take it anymore.

Kai prods at your entrance pushing in two fingers knuckles deep. Your hips jerk up to meet his hand but he doesn’t let you, pulling out just to shove the same fingers into your mouth like he’s seen you doing so many times before. You're shocked by the taste of yourself for only the second it takes you to realize his intentions.

He pushes you over to your side, cock bumping your ass before you feel him pushing between your thighs slipping along your cunt. Your muffled yelp is heard around his fingers as he pushes in, stretching you inch by inch. Your body relaxes into his, your head on his shoulder as he angels his hips to get as deep as he can in this position.

“Oh god- you feel so fucking good,” hes panting into your shoulder, fingers swirling along your tongue. He's pressed right against your womb, your brows scrunched at the way he's splitting you, squeezing around him until he's stilling to try and not cum too fast. “I've dreamt about how good it would feel to be buried inside you,” You're whining on his fingers as he trusts them to match his cock slowly inching in and out of you. “I'd wait up just to see you when you got home, watch you undress,” he groans at the thought hips snapping forward.

“Id think about- fuck,” he drops his hand from your mouth, fingers still wet with your saliva, and presses them to your clit. The stimulation has your head going foggy, “and I think about touching this pretty pussy just like this,”

You can feel him losing his stamina, stuttering hips, and twitching cock making you lose your mind. “Did you think about filling me up with your cum?”

The soft whimper he lets out is an echo of his need, rumbling in his chest as he presses onto your clit needing to feel you cum on his cock. It's almost too much and when you start to grind back on him he can't help himself as he cums, his pathetic ah-ahs a melody you didn't know you needed before you were clenching around him following right after him pressing your palm to your pelvis like that could stop the way your hips were twitching for him.

When he pulled out you could feel your combined release slipping down your thighs his soft apologies waved away as you turned around tugging the back of his hair until his lips were on yours. “Next time you can come over to my place and play out exactly how you would have fucked me into my mattress,”

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fairyysoup · 9 months ago

Text

his hands

pairing(s): hairdresser!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: How do you make getting a haircut an erotic experience? You have Eddie Munson as your hairdresser, of course.

cw: explicit, smut, unprotected piv sex, mirror sex, workplace sex, hand kink, choking, dumbification, dom!eddie, touch-starved!reader, semi-sort-of subspace happenings, referring to genitals with gendered pronouns, slight body worship, getting weirdly horny over a head massage, sexual tension, negative self talk, hair cut/style mentioned but no description of hair color/type, the aftercare is the haircut lol, implied 90s au, eddie's like 30, reader's age unspecified, eddie is employee of the month in my heart, not proofread, no beta we die like men

a/n: this is weird. and came from an interesting experience i had at the hair salon. and yes that is corpse's hand in that pic i didn't want to spend all day looking for a header pic shut up shut up shut up

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Your hands twitch on the copy of Elle magazine in your lap. The familiar waiting area of your local salon has new furniture, which still smells a bit like the cellophane it came wrapped in, and hasn’t been worn out by patrons just yet. You’d asked for your usual stylist, Melissa. Except, you haven’t been here in so long, and apparently Melissa doesn’t work here anymore.

“We have a new stylist in her place,” the greeter at the front desk told you kindly. “I could fit you in if you’d like that same station?”

The station doesn’t matter to you; they all look the same and have the same tools. Obviously, when it comes to getting your hair cut, the stylist makes the difference. But, since you’re a couple months too late to catch up with Melissa, a new stylist is who you’ll be working with.

The PA still plays some sort of weird pop-rock fusion that mixes Nat King Cole with Billy Idol, but you just try to focus on it to keep your leg from bouncing. You always get anxious like this when you come in for an appointment, even though you always tell yourself the same thing. It’s just hair. If you don’t like it, it’ll grow back. Or, if worst comes to worst, you could always shave it.

You hear your name being called, and you look up to the person who’d just approached the waiting area around the partition that blocks off the styling area. You blink, your mind going fuzzy as you try to make sense of what you see.

“Looks like I’ll be cutting your hair today,” the man standing at the end of the row of chairs says, with a grin that puts boyish dimples on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”

Eddie the Hairdresser is a bit more than you can handle right now. Between his long, curly hair, and the shirt he wears that gives you a view of the tattoos crawling up his arms, you think your knees might already be made out of jelly as you try to stand. But then he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and he’s wearing big, chunky rings that glint in the light, and you think you might swoon like a Victorian damsel.

“I’m, uh–” you begin intelligently, as you fit your hand into his big one. He squeezes just the tiniest bit and smirks at you. “I– I’m trying to, uh–”

“First time?” Eddie asks you with a tilt of his head. His brown eyes crease at the edges with mirth.

“Oh, um, no,” you mutter, looking everywhere but at his dimples. He has a tattoo on his neck of a dragon. You stare at it for a moment too long. “I used to come and see Melissa, forever ago.”

“Oh! Yeah, Melissa was great. She trained me,” Eddie starts jabbering as he tilts his head and leads you around the partition. You’re met with the smell of hairspray and the sound of blow dryers getting louder. “She’s a hard act to follow, but I hope I can do well enough. Let’s get you started with a wash, hm?”

You smile as he winks at you conspiratorially. You always feel a little bit awkward as you sit in the chair for the wash sinks, but Eddie ushers you into it with a little wave of his hand and gently– more gently than you can remember even Melissa being– lifts the ends of your hair and places a soft towel around your shoulders.

“What kept you away all this time?” Eddie asks pleasantly as he tests the water temperature. “Melissa’s been gone for a while.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I was working a lot,” you stumble into an explanation, your cheeks heating up a bit. It’s hard not to feel like you need to repent for not coming in to get a trim every month. “Last time I came in, I got my hair cut really short, so it wasn’t like I needed to come in for a trim for a long time, and by the time I really needed one it was long enough that I could do it myself… so, I just kept doing that.”

“So, what are we doing today?” Eddie inquires as his fingertips brush along your temples to tuck your hair back behind your ears and into the wash basin. With gentle prompting, he tilts your head back into the bin and begins to wet the ends of your hair.

“I figured it’s time I go short again,” you tell him, more confident than you really feel about it. It was a split second decision, one that you made because the reflection in the mirror was looking back at you with such a dead expression that you decided you needed a change in a bad way. For a lighter note, you supplement, “I’m tired of brushing tangles out of my hair every morning, and the other day I had a whole bird’s nest at the back of my neck, y’know.”

“Pssh, I know all about tangles. You saw my hair,” Eddie chuckles as the lukewarm water touches your scalp. Goosebumps rise on your arms while he rambles on, “I have to comb my hair wet or else I look like I got electrocuted. I never used to care about that sort of thing before I went to school for this, but once you start learning about proper treatment it’s kind of hard to ignore. I used to wash my hair with bar soap. Dry as hell, no conditioner. I’m surprised I got it long to begin with.”

You find yourself smiling just thinking about it. “Bar soap? With those curls?”

“Don’t tell anyone, my reputation will be ruined,” Eddie leans down and whispers to you while he reaches for a bottle of shampoo. You hear a crack of a bottle cap, and then his hands are in your hair again, working the sweet smelling soap into your roots. “I’m trying to get employee of the month, but they’re never gonna give it to me if they know I used to sabotage my own hair with Irish Spring.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you tell him sweetly, but you’re barely paying attention to his words anymore. His fingers are pressing into areas on your head that haven’t had a proper massage in forever, and months of tension headaches are being brought to the forefront of your mind.

You never consider how oddly intimate having someone wash your hair is until you’re in the thick of it. Eddie’s thumbs massage circles into your occipitals with just a perfect amount of pressure, and the muscles down the back of your neck slowly melt and relax, moving with the swell of his fingertips. You suddenly feel very relaxed and very sleepy, and your eyelids drift closed as Eddie’s thumbs trace the line of your skull up to your hairline.

It even takes a moment for you to tune into the fact that he’s humming. Under his breath, he’s singing along to the notes of the song on the PA. He’s doing it in such a way that you’re sure he’s not even aware of it, himself, and you’d comment on it if you weren’t afraid that you’d embarrass him. His fingers are massaging circles around your temples now, and while you’re trying to focus on the sound of him harmonizing with the music, your mind is again trying to distract you with the feeling developing at the base of your spine. A ticklish, warm feeling spreads between your hips, disrupting the lull you find yourself in and forcing you to blink your eyes open.

Oh, no. We’re not doing that right now.

You can’t say you’re surprised that this is your response. His hands are all over your head and you haven’t been touched by anyone in… well, a very long time, to say the least. You’re probably a little starved for it, all things considered. But this is really the wrong time and place to be getting turned on by a guy’s touch.

You shift in your seat, trying not to be too obvious about it when Eddie pulls his hands away and begins rinsing your hair again. Crossing your legs would be a dead giveaway, but the warm feeling is turning into a subtle throb between your legs, and Eddie’s hands are back on your head, now gently combing the conditioner through the length of your hair as though he’s petting you.

After a few torturous minutes of trying to ignore the blooming arousal deep in your gut, Eddie cuts the water and wraps your hair in the towel to secure it.

“Now comes the hard part,” Eddie says, probably not meaning to make it sound so suggestive, but your mind seems to be taking its sweet time loitering in the gutter.

You stare dazedly up at the ceiling. Now is the hard part?

Eddie leads you to what used to be Melissa’s station, and swings the swivel chair around for you with a flourish. “Step into my office, sweetheart. I’ll get you all dressed up in a sexy robe and everything.”

You stifle a giggle as you slide into the seat. His “office” is one table in a row of other tables, and two feet away an older woman is getting her hair bleached by a girl with an undercut. As Eddie spins you around, the stylist shoots him a look.

“He’s a shameless flirt,” she tells you, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Eddie lays a smock across your front and buttons it at the back of your neck.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve been minding my manners very well,” Eddie huffs with feigned indignation as he unwraps your hair and tosses the towel onto the table in front of you. He still winks at you in the mirror when he leans around you to pick up a comb. “So far.”

You can’t help the way that your jaw clenches. He’s really not going to make this easy on you. You wonder if he knows where your mind has been for the last ten minutes.

Eddie moves around to the back of your chair and presses on a lever to raise it up, but nothing happens.

“Dammit,” Eddie curses under his breath, and turns to his coworker, who’s still loading tinfoil into the woman’s hair until she looks like something from Close Encounters. “I can’t believe you gave me the crap chair.”

“Early birds get the good chairs,” the stylist replies.

Eddie sighs and turns back to you, and finds you looking at him curiously in the mirror. “This is the only broken chair in the whole salon, and everyone hates it, so it tends to move around. You never know if you’ll get the crap chair.”

“That’s sabotage,” you giggle.

“I know! So I have to bend down to style you, I’m sorry.”

“I think I can handle it.” You watch him give you a look in the mirror that makes you shift in your seat again.

“So,” he begins, looking down at your head as he begins detangling your hair. “We’re going short?”

“That’s the plan,” you say with a puff of your chest. Please, god, don’t let it be horrible.

“How short?” he prompts, eyeing you in the mirror. “Shoulder length? Close cropped?”

You reach up a slightly shaky hand and pinch the length that you want between two fingers. “Here’s good.”

Eddie nods, looking somewhat pleased. “Are we doing layers?”

“Yeah, I think layers would be good for the long term.”

“Gives you more flexibility,” he agrees. He picks up a pair of scissors and begins measuring out the length that you want. “I’ll start with the length and then we’ll move to bangs, all right?”

“That… sounds good.” You’re temporarily discombobulated by Eddie taking the sides of your head and tilting your head down just the slightest bit.

“Stay just like that for me, okay?” he says quietly.

You blink down at the table in front of you, feeling your mouth go dry. “No problem.” Your hands nervously twitch beneath the cover of the smock across your body.

He goes back to humming along with the music on the PA, and you don’t have the heart to interrupt him. You’re trying to focus on anything but the nerves in your system and the way his touch keeps making you want to jump out of your seat.

After a moment, he stops humming and dusts a bit of hair off of your shoulder. “There we go. Good girl.”

You blink up at Eddie in the mirror, and then see the transformation from long hair to short on your head.

“How does it feel?” Eddie asks, leaning down to pinch the ends of the front and measure the evenness of the length. You stare at his fingers, and the tattoo of a bat just above his thumb on his left hand.

“Ten pounds lighter,” you joke. It feels like you’ve swallowed a lump of hot coal, but he doesn’t need to know that. Eddie grins, and his dimples make a glorious reappearance.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs, and again positions your head where he wants it, staring directly forward. “Honestly, even if you wanted to stop here, it would suit you. I don’t think there’s a way to make you look bad, sweetheart.”

“You’ve never seen me with a hangover,” you scoff, trying to ignore how your heart skips a beat.

Eddie smirks at you in the mirror while he starts working on giving your hair layers. “My guess is that you still look just as cute, but with a bit more of a grumpy look around here.” He gestures to your brow with one finger, and reaches over to set aside the texturizing scissors.

“So, what I’m hearing is, you think I’m cute?” you say, still trying to play up the confidence that you don’t really have. Your hand squeezes your thigh under the smock you wear, your nails digging in for purchase.

“No, I think you’re gorgeous,” Eddie says swiftly, like it’s just a matter of fact. “But, I think you’d also be cute when you’re hungover. Plus, with this hair, you’d probably look all unkempt and I love the mental image that’s creating.”

His hands fluff the layers that he’s put into your hair, ruffling them gently and carding his fingers through them to measure their length. You’re sure that he’s not aware of the moon-eyed look you’re giving him in the mirror.

Except, then he moves around you to start working on your bangs, and the smirk that comes across his face when he looks down at yours is enough to make you lose your composure. He knows everything that’s going on in your head, you’re sure of it.

Cocky bastard.

“I like your tattoos,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear over the music and the sounds of blow dryers all around you. He’s face to face with you, so close that you can count the freckles on his pale face.

Eddie’s eyes light up. “Yeah? What about ‘em?”

“Well,” you lick your lips, your eyes flicking down to the one on his neck, and the one peeking out of his collar. “They’re colorful, and they look like you put a lot of thought into picking out each one. They’re pretty.”

“Hmm. You flatter me,” he remarks, trying to hide his grin and failing. If you look closely, there’s just the slightest pink tint to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. He finishes trimming your bangs, and just before he stands up, he chucks you lightly under the chin. “Keep it up and you might get a freebie.”

A free what? You’re imagining he means some sort of a free hair wash or something, but you can’t keep your mind from going to unprecedented places.

“All right. Bear with me, I’m gonna blow dry you now.” He turns your chair away from the mirror to get you a bit closer to the blow dryer, and for a few minutes, there’s a lull in the conversation.

Then, all at once, the blow dryer shuts off, and Eddie leans down towards you. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Eddie, you’re gonna make me nervous.”

“Well, we don’t want that.” You just barely turn your head to look at him; just enough that your noses barely brush. You steal a breath that comes from his mouth, and then, Eddie turns you to the mirror. “Like I said,” he murmurs, “There’s not a way to make you look bad.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe. And holy shit is right– he’s done a complete number on you. Your hair is voluminous, framing your face in a way that you haven’t seen it before.

“What do you think?” he asks, and for a moment, you think it’s a rhetorical question.

“I think you’re way better than Melissa,” you tell him, once you realize that it’s not rhetorical and he’s really asking you what you think. You’re sure that he’d make adjustments if you needed, but you don’t need him to. He’s read you like a book. He’s made you look better than you could ever have hoped for.

“I’m gonna need that in writing,” he tells you, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen. “For employee of the month, and all.”

“Tell me where to sign.”

He jerks his head, and all at once the fog lifts. You follow him to the front desk like a lost puppy, feeling like you don’t actually want to leave. You want to sit in his chair while he cuts your hair until you have none left. You want to keep his attention on you and stare at his smile, his hair, his eyes, his tattoos, for the rest of time.

“I look forward to next time, princess,” he tells you, but you’re hyperfocused on the touch of his hand to your lower back.

You watch him telling something to the girl at the front desk, his hand wrapped around the edge of the table and distracting you for the umpteenth time. You watch his silver rings glint in the light, and you think about them weaving through your hair; you think about his fingers and how they’d feel on places besides your head.

“So, when did you want to schedule an appointment?”

You blink a few times, and in a dazed glow you come back to where you are. At the front desk. Paying for your haircut. “Sorry, what?”

“The… next appointment? For your trim?” The secretary tilts her head, smiling at you kindly. “When did you want to come in?”

“Oh,” you murmur, looking down at the keyboard that she’s typing on. Eddie has disappeared back around the partition with a sweet smile and a wave cast in your direction. You just want him to come back again. “What would you suggest? Y’know, for this kind of a cut?”

“Hmm,” the girl hums, and sizes you up. Not in a way that makes you doubt yourself, but in a way that tells you she’s taking your question seriously. “Probably about four weeks. See if the length is something you’re happy with?”

“Great. Four weeks from now. With Eddie.” You peer down at the rack of business cards on the deck, and pick up the one farthest to the right.

Eddie Munson, Stylist. Set an appointment today!

By four weeks, your hair has already reached your shoulders, and the ease of maintenance is starting to wear off. When you get a call reminding you about your appointment with Eddie, your head reels with the knowledge that you’ll see him again.

You calmly assert to yourself that this time, there will be no mooning over him. He’s just your hairdresser. You figure he just has a job to do, tips to earn, and so on. You don’t know if he’s available, you don’t know if he’s single or if he even likes you the way that you like him. You don’t know anything about him, really.

False. You know that he used to wash his hair with bar soap.

You snicker to yourself as you sit in the waiting area yet again. The only available slot for him today was 6:30; pretty close to closing time, but for a Wednesday you figured it was best for you to come late, since you’d have time to get yourself together after work.

You’ve never been in the salon so late. It’s getting dark outside, and the overhead lights cast a semi-yellow glow around the waiting area. Business is dying down now. Not as many people love the idea of getting their hair cut so late, you suppose, but it was either this or wait another week to get an appointment with Eddie, and with the rate that your hair is growing, you’d probably be going insane by then.

“Hey, you,” Eddie says, popping his head around the partition with a grin that makes you nearly melt in your seat. His curly hair hangs in a curtain out in midair, and his long neck stretches out for you to take a gander at. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”

You smile at him. “Well, you’re the only person I trust with my head.”

What the fuck did you just say?

Eddie smirks, glowing pink around the ears. “I’ll keep that in mind, princess. Let me clean up my station real quick and I’ll getcha goin’, all right?”

You swallow back the lump in your throat. “Yeah, sure, no worries.”

When Eddie disappears again, you slide down in your seat and clap your hand across your eyes. You’re sort of glad that nobody was in the waiting room to see that ridiculous exchange, but you still have to sit with your embarrassment while Eddie cuts your hair. Again.

There will be no pining. There will be no getting weirdly turned on by him washing your hair. Nope, not happening this time.

This time, when Eddie ushers you back behind the partition, there’s only one two other stylists who are there cleaning their stations. The PA has been turned way down, so you can barely register what it’s playing at all.

“You actually came at a good time,” Eddie tells you as you trail after him toward the wash station. “You’re the last person for the night, so I can really take my time with you.”

“O-oh.. really?” You beat back your perverted thoughts with a stick. “To do what?”

“Oh, y’know,” Eddie shrugs as he lays a towel around your shoulders again, just as gentle as he was the last time. “We could do something totally crazy. Who knows what’ll happen?”

His voice is animated, pleasantly filling the empty space where your thoughts might become too much if you let them wander.

Over the past month, after you’d recovered from your last meeting with Eddie, and as you were preparing for this one, you came up with a few things that you could ask him about– just to keep your mind from going to places you didn’t want them to. To save yourself the embarrassment and the ordeal of having to play whack-a-mole with your libido, and all.

“Did you get employee of the month?” you begin with.

Eddie laughs, and then sighs. “No, our manicurist got it. I’ll get it this time, I just gotta stay on my A-game.” His blunt nails rake your hair away from your forehead and temples, and a lukewarm stream of water hits the crown of your skull.

You nearly want to jump out of your skin at the feeling. “Was it because they gave you the crap chair too many times?”

“Probably. But I got here early today, so the good news is you don’t have to sit in the crap chair this time.”

“Aww, I kind of liked the crap chair. Kept me grounded.” You hear him huff a laugh as he starts lathering shampoo through your hair. Trying to keep your mind running so you don’t focus too hard on how good his rings feel scraping against your scalp, you ask, “How’d you get into this line of work?”

“Honestly, it’s kind of a weird story,” Eddie starts, beginning to massage his fingertips into your skull in a way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You tighten your hands on the arms of your chair and take a deep breath. “So, it took me three tries to graduate high school, right? I was terrible at it. And, y’know, I figured I’d only end up working in a garage or something for the rest of my life. But I was cutting my mane all on my own, and eventually I started cutting my friends’ hair too, because they were all in college and it’s cheaper than going to a salon. I mean–” he chuckles, and begins rinsing your hair– “believe me. I know all about it. And it just came to me really easily, ‘cause I used to be great at drawing and crafting and stuff. And it’s kind of the same thing– once you learn the medium, it’s smooth sailing from there.”

The salon has gone eerily quiet, and by the time Eddie wraps your head and sits you up, you realize that the other stylists have gone, and you and Eddie are the last people in the building. You’d be a little nervous about it, but you got Eddie on a roll, and honestly, he makes it so easy to listen to him.

“Anyways, one day my friend Robin says to me, ‘You should totally get your credential for this,’ and I said, ‘You have to go to school for this shit?’” You blow a raspberry of a laugh, no longer feeling anxious as he sits you down on his not-crap styling chair. He drapes a smock over you, and cracks a grin at you in the mirror. “I know! So, I’ve never been great at school, and I can’t afford to pay for beauty school tuition on the pay I was making at the time, so my friends… they pooled together some money to at least pay for my first semester. And then– get this– I got on the fucking Dean’s list.”

“No way.”

“I did! Yours truly!” He does a little bow, and while you’re still giggling, he begins detangling your hair. “So, I got grants. And I finished top of my class, because as it turns out, when you don’t hate what you’re studying it’s really easy to do well. I got my certification framed and everything. Show that to my damn high school principal.” He shakes his head, but the smile is still on his face when he says, “But now I just have to get that fucking employee of the month.”

“Anything I can do to help?” you offer, admiring his face in the mirror again without even realizing you’re doing it. You love seeing him grin, showing off his dimples and the smile lines around his eyes.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugs with a cute scrunch of his nose. “Just make sure you write my boss a letter saying how fantastic and amazing I am and how there’s no other hair stylist like me and how you’ll never find anyone as cool and sexy anywhere else. Something subtle like that oughta do it.”

“Shouldn’t be difficult,” you tell him smoothly. “I already had that one drafted.”

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling when he reaches for his scissors, but you still notice the faint blush on his cheeks that he tries to hide behind his curtain of hair. “Flattery. You know what that gets you with me.”

A freebie. You hear his voice echoing in your head, and you swallow past the dryness in your throat. “Like… what? A mohawk?”

“Would you want a mohawk?” he asks you, pausing his movements to peer at you. “Because that’d be metal as hell, I’d be so down.”

You laugh. “I appreciate it, but I think… probably not today.”

Eddie hums, and returns to smoothing your hair back away from your face. “So we’re just doing the same as last time?”

“Yeah, not too flashy.”

“Gotcha. It’s a shame, though. I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Well, I think that short hair is just easier to maintain,” you tell him, at a loss for what else to say. He glances up at you in the mirror, and locks eyes with you. “And it doesn’t make my neck look as stumpy as it is.”

Eddie tilts his head with a confused pout, and then he reaches down and wraps his hands loosely around your throat. Your breath stalls in your chest, your eyes focused on the sight of his hands on you, his thumbs gently stroking the nape of your neck and his ring clad fingers pressed just below your chin. His fingers link and hold you, creating a necklace that you’ll never be able to find anywhere else.

Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Everything below your waist draws up tight and hard, your thighs clamping together like that’s going to somehow will away the hold that Eddie has on you.

You lift your eyes and find his in the mirror, dark and focused in on you. You hold each others’ gaze for a prolonged moment, not saying anything, you barely even daring to breathe. You can’t imagine what the expression on your face looks like. You’re too busy staring at the one on his– like there are a million thoughts running through his head, and you’re desperate to know every single one of them.

“Nah, I think you’re perfect.” And just like that, Eddie moves on like nothing happened, picking up his scissors again. Like he didn’t just fry your brain. Like you’re not halfway to cardiac arrest.

You’re dumbstruck as he starts trimming the ends of your hair. You told yourself there would be no mooning over him. No pining. But here, you are, turned on beyond belief, and having to deal with the heartbeat pulsing between your legs, and not shift around, because you don’t want to fuck him up.

When he pinches the ends of the front to see if they’re level, you’re staring directly at him in the mirror. Not even trying to hide it, either. If you did try, you’d most certainly fail. Eddie frowns in concentration, a bit of a crease to his brow as he peers at his hands.

Eddie tuts. “I’m trying to figure out– is it–?” He grabs the back of your chair, and suddenly you’re being swiveled around to face him. “Sometimes these mirrors don’t even help a guy out at the worst goddamn times…”

Your breathing is way heavier than it needs to be. Is it hot in here? Did they crank up the heat in this place specifically to spite you? Eddie’s face is so close to yours, and you’re not sure if the fact that you aren’t in the crap chair is helping. You’re higher up now, and he doesn’t have to bend down as far to get level with you, and his eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and you–

Eddie’s hand comes up and snips the tip off the right side. “There we go. One side was all fucked.”

“Well, we don’t want anything getting fucked, do we?” you mutter under your breath. What’s left of it.

Eddie pauses and his eyes flick up to yours. His eyelashes are long and flutter as he holds your gaze again, while you try hard not to look away. There’s that unreadable expression on his face from earlier, morphing slowly into something like amusement, but that could also just be your mind playing tricks on you. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his li–

“Screw it.” Eddie tosses his scissors to the ground and his hands come up to grip your face, smoothing your hair back tenderly before he kisses you.

You open your mouth and Eddie is in it, searching, feeling. His hands hold your head firm and you feel the metal of his rings digging into your cheeks, and you’re splitting apart at the seams from the way he’s completely invading your senses. He smells like warm, spicy cologne and hairspray. He tastes like cigarettes and cherry coke. He moans into you, and the sound is like heaven.

You lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, and he grunts before he pulls away just the tiniest bit to give you breathing room.

“This is highly unprofessional, Mr. Munson,” you whisper to him, as if you don’t have him caged in with your thighs.

“I don’t… actually fucking care,” Eddie admits, his nose just nudging against yours. “Got so fuckin’ hard the minute I saw you. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Dunno,” you murmur against his mouth, “I’m waiting for you to tell me.”

“C’mere.” He pulls you out of your seat, and you practically trip over the smock he clipped around your neck.

“Get me out of this thing,” you giggle, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You inhale a deep breath of his cologne, feeling his chest shake with his laugh.

“Aww, but you look so cute,” Eddie coos, but his hands come up to undo the button at the back of your neck. The fabric slides to the ground, and Eddie kicks it aside as he crowds you back against the table. Your ass hits the edge of it and your hand falls onto a comb when you try to steady yourself. He pulls you flush to his body, his hands caging you in. Eddie’s tongue dances over your bottom lip and you moan, lifting your hands to tangle in the fabric of his shirt.

He ducks his head to help you pull his shirt off before he tosses it somewhere to the side. You’re distracted by his tattoos, each one of them beautiful and detailed, standing out against his pale skin.

Then, you remember something that he told you earlier, and you connect some dots that you hadn’t even realized were there. “Did you draw these?”

Eddie’s grin could blind the sun. He blushes pink down his neck and shoulders. “Yeah, I did.”

“They’re gorgeous. I meant what I said before– I really like them.”

He sucks in a deep breath, and then his lips are on you, everywhere they can manage. On your face, your neck, trying to get at your collarbone but your shirt is in the way. He fists it in his hands, making a petulant noise in the back of his throat. “Help me out here, sweetheart.”

Your shirt lands somewhere near his. You don’t see exactly where, because he’s pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders so that he can mouth kisses across your breasts, pulling down on the cups until he can graze his teeth over your nipple. It takes you so off guard that you bite back a squeal, tugging at his hair and rubbing your thighs together to stave off the incessant throbbing between them.

When you look down at him, his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black. Your heart thuds erratically in your chest, your breath not coming even though you gasp and pull at the air with everything you have. You can’t really fathom why he has you so worked up– just that it’s been so long since anyone touched you like this, and now that you have it it’s like every little point of contact is on fire.

Eddie grazes his teeth across your breast, and your knees nearly buckle out from under you. You grab his face, guiding him back up to you.

“What were you thinking when you grabbed my throat?” you ask him, your voice hoarse in the back of your throat.

His hands are on you now, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing like he’ll never let go. “I can show you, if you want,” Eddie answers, and he sounds just as wrecked as you. Maybe more.

There’s absolutely no way you’re going to refuse that. Not with the way you’ve been lusting after him since meeting him. You nod. “Eddie, please–”

He kisses you hard again before mumbling against your lips, “Turn around and take off your pants.”

You do what he asks without a second’s hesitation. You watch him in the mirror as he follows your movements, undoing his own belt, and you kick your jeans and underwear off without thinking about why you’re here, without wondering about the repercussions. You figure you can probably do that later.

Right now, Eddie’s smoothing his hand up your spine, and the feeling of his fingers dancing along your skin sends shivers through your body. His fingers weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, and he pulls just slightly, until you bare your neck.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your heart hammers as you watch him, dark eyes and hair and rosy cheeks in the mirror, his carnation colored lips twisting into a wicked grin at you. He kisses your shoulder so gently it’s like the fluttering of a feather.

“‘Stumpy neck,’” Eddie scoffs under his breath, and you tremble. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

He bends you forward until you’re face to face with yourself in the mirror– but you’re looking at him, gazing into your eyes while he teases himself at your entrance.

“Oh my god,” you groan, dropping your head almost immediately at the feeling. Your head is spinning, your body rigid with anticipation and breaking out in a cool sweat already.

“Mm-mm,” Eddie hums condescendingly, and a hand clamps around your throat, hoisting your head up again. A gasp tears from your lips. In the mirror, his eyes are blazing. “You look at me while I fuck you. That’s the only way this is gonna happen. Got it?”

You nod. You want to shrink away from the heat in his gaze, but you want him to fuck you way more than that. You shudder as he leans forward, pressing in until his chin nearly rests on your shoulder.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.” His thumb strokes lightly along your pulse point, and you make a soft noise in the back of your throat without thinking. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you tell him, barely a whisper, but he hears it all the same.

“Good girl.”

Eddie grins, kisses the nape of your neck, and pulls back. When he does, you’re barely able to take a breath before he pushes his hard cock into you, and the noise you make is almost embarrassing in its volume.

“Ohhh, you’re absolutely soaked, baby. She’s practically dripping– is this just for me?” Eddie murmurs in your ear, grinding his hips up against your ass for emphasis. The lewd noise that it makes has your toes curling and the tips of your ears burning.

“Fuck,” you moan, ginding back against him to push him deeper. He’s so thick and you’re so sensitive that your mind is completely blanking at the feeling.

Eddie notices, and he chuckles as grabs your waist with one hand as he thrusts his hips forward. “I’ve barely gotten my cock in you, princess. Don’t go getting all dumb on me already.” His voice goes straight between your legs and your cunt pulses around him, making him hiss through his teeth. The hand on your throat tightens just slightly. “I asked you a question.”

You keen, your mind reeling as you search for words. You manage to nod, babbling out, “Yes, it’s– it’s all for you, Eddie, been wanting you so bad, s’all I can think about–”

Eddie coos, grabbing your chin to shut you up while a particularly hard thrust of his hips knocks the wind out of you. He turns his head and grazes his lips against your cheek, eyeing you in the mirror as he says, “I knew it.”

Your eyes are on him, on his hand around your neck, on his rings pressed into your skin. All that your fucked-out mind can think is that it’s hot, and you like him and his strong hands and his pretty eyes and the way his cock is reaching places inside you that make thoughts really difficult to come by.

Eddie whispers something against your skin, and you miss it because you’re hooked on the way his eyelashes flutter for just a moment while his lips are pressed against your cheek. You lift your hand, until it rests over his against your throat, his fingers just barely laced with yours.

“Again,” you say– it comes out like a command, but you mean it like a question. You don’t know what the fuck he just said.

“You’re so beautiful,” he repeats, and his voice nearly cracks with the desperation in it. His sweat slick chest is pressed against your back, his thrusts rocking your hips into the table and jostling it into the wall, but his voice is so tender. “So perfect for me.”

Your mouth falls open, your hand tightening on his. You pull, until he loosens his grip and his hand comes away with yours. You kiss his palm, then his fingertips, holding his gaze in the mirror as you slowly, gently swirl your tongue around his middle and forefinger.

Eddie’s eyes narrow coyly at you, while his thrusts make you mewl and clutch at the table with your free hand. You suck his two fingers deep into your mouth, earning a pleased groan from him in your ear– a sound which you want to hear again and again, no matter what it takes.

“Look at you, sweet little thing, gettin’ my fingers all wet like that,” he whispers to you, biting his lip as you grind back against him. “Wanna do something with ‘em?”

You moan, letting his fingers slide from your mouth with a wet pop. You guide his hand down your chest, down your stomach, until his fingers slide between your legs.

“There you go,” Eddie coos, taking over from your guidance as his fingers start rubbing small circles against your clit. “Atta girl, showin’ me what you want. Just needed me to fuck you stupid first, hm?”

Your cunt pulses, and you cum with a loud moan that echoes off of the mirror in front of you and around the empty space. Eddie cries out, and you feel his warmth fill you as he cums. He slows until he stills inside you, and then he holds you, panting against your cheek, his arm wrapped around your middle and his hand on your throat.

You haven’t moved your hand away from his, you realize, after a few moments of bliss in the aftershocks. You drop your hand to the table with a thud, earning a soft, breathless chuckle from him.

“Can I take you out to dinner?” Eddie asks you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“I think you can do whatever you want with me,” you murmur dazedly, just barely shifting and making him hiss. He’s still inside you, trying to hold you steady while he calms himself down.

“Good.” There’s a kiss to your cheek, and Eddie grunts as he slowly eases out of you. “I still need to finish your goddamn haircut.”

“Eddie, we’re naked.”

“And?” His hands are moving quicker than your mind is, yanking a kleenex from the table so that he can bend down and wipe the insides of your thighs. You jump at the sudden touch, but he clamps a hand around your hip to hold you still. “The sooner I finish your hair, the sooner I close up, and the sooner we go get dinner. You like Italian?”

“I didn’t think your pillow talk would involve finishing my haircut,” you grumble, but there’s a smile worming it’s way onto your face even as you say it.

“That’s the name of the game, sweetheart,” Eddie says, tossing the tissue into the trash. He picks up your underwear, and the smock from the floor. “Now, sit your cute ass down. I’m not gonna get employee of the month by dishing out orgasms and not bangs, y’know.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #roses*#eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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beomie3 · 11 months ago

Text

dawn *☼*ﾟ・

bf!beomgyu x reader

content: soft smut, beomgyu is absolutely whipped for reader, gyu gives you a massage bc you are stressed :( but ofc it turns into more hehe, oral f!receiving, sleepy sex, creampie, cursing, gentle then heated makeouts, they are so in love lol

wc: 2.9k

♫ morning sex - ralph castelli

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊

soft, linen sheets cradle your bare legs, bathing in the sun that peeked through the blinds. pure warmth of his skin against you.

you held on to the sleep blanketing you until the thought of going to work, like a dark thunderstorm, pulled you from the peace and quiet of your slumber.

without even realizing it, your eyebrows were furrowing, muscles taut and shoulders tensed by your ears. you were already anxious and stressed within the one minute of being awake.

the executive presentation you had for your job was finally today and to say you had been preparing for months was an understatement. the amount of stress it has caused you especially leading up to today has been tremendous.

"hey, hey, baby it's okay, i'm right here with you," you didn't realize your eyes were shut tight, hands in fists until the warm touch of your boyfriend brought you back to reality. his soft voice filling your ears an immediate comfort.

your eyes fluttered open to be met with his deep brown gaze above you, the morning sun striking his irises and turning them gold. that sight alone was enough to calm your nerves even for a moment.

he knew you like the back of his hand, knew exactly what you were stressing over because he had been by your side through it all; there to help you practice your presentation and calm you when you felt the world would crumble down on top of you. it didn't help that you were a naturally anxious person, but he washed all of your worries away.

his warm embrace around you was enough to make you melt, limbs intertwined with his; your legs wrapped around his long ones, your arms around his neck and his around your waist. the perfect recipie to destress you in every way.

"here, let me give you a long massage before i make you breakfast, and then you can practice your presentation for me okay baby?" he sensed your sudden tenseness when you checked your phone, anxious about the time.

you had awoken at dawn; several hours before you even needed to, out of stress that you wouldn't have enough time to get ready. but he wanted to calm you back down. he wanted to put you at ease.

you complied, flipping over to lay down on your tummy with his help. but before you did so, he slid your oversized shirt off of you, lifting off the warm material over your head and tossing it aside; that way he could access your bare skin. massages were always better that way.

his long fingers up and down your back were heavenly, a sigh of relief exiting your lungs when he began applying pressure in all the right areas- especially your shoulders, where he knew you carried most of your stress.

if this was good, it got even better when he reached over to the bedside table to get some body oil, spreading it over your skin; warming it up with his hands first so that it's cold temperature wouldn't shock you.

mmmh you couldn't keep in your sighs of relief as his slippery fingers worked your muscle knots out one by one, pushing every negative thought from your mind and closer to pure bliss with every passing second. all you could think about was the pleasure he gave you, and how much you loved him for it.

"thank you, gyu," your sleepy voice came out muffled from the pillow and he chuckled, "but i'm not even close to done!" he leaned down to kiss the back of your neck, driving tingles up your spine with the sudden warmth of his breath down your skin.

time passed as his hands slowly worked their way from the top of your back to your lower back, where he focused on your tailbone and hips, his fingers sliding deliciously closer to the waist band of your underwear.

you were hyper-focused on where his fingers would travel to next, almost hoping they would travel under the hem of your underwear and massage you elsewhere. you also didn't realize wetness pooling the thin material of your undies with the mere thought of it.

it was impossible not to think about, not with the way he was touching you right now; so sensually although it was only a massage. the thought of his long fingers sliding between your folds so effortlessly, disappearing in and out of you and curling up-

"gyu?" you turn your head, still heavy with sleep when his hands slide back up to your shoulders.

"hm baby? what is it?" he slightly leans over you, silky bangs over his eyes as his warm gaze is attentive to whatever it is you need.

you can't help the flip your heart does at the sight of him like this- his sleeves rolled to his elbows, dainty silver necklace dangling onto your skin, hair messy from sleep, eyes wide and sparkling with love. he had your heart in every single way.

"can you please go lower again? it still feels sore," your eyes are soft with desire, a faux whine to sell your little lie. but he knew from that look in your eye. he knew. i mean, how could he not know? the best way to relieve your physical stress was to make you cum. it worked every time.

"where baby? tell me when to stop," he trailed his fingers lower down your back until he reached the hem of your underwear, teasingly sliding his fingertips under the elastic.

"here?" you shook your head with a small grin, face flushed, and he continued on, the tent in his pants growing harder than it already was.

"here?" his hands were palming your ass, massaging both cheeks together like they were dough.

"close," your face grew warm as you giggled, neck still craned to look at him over your shoulder with a grin.

"or here?" he used two fingers to lightly trail down to the soaked patch in between your legs, gently massaging the area enough to have you biting your lip roughly.

"you want a massage here hm?" his tone was deeper, eyes darkening as his grin turned into more of a smirk, hair fluffed over his eyes and making your heart twirl.

"i know," he said without needing your response; the look in your eyes simply said it all. his eyes on yours all the while, searching them.

you slowly sat up to lean on your elbows, nearing your lips to his, pressing them to his gently, immediately intoxicated by the softness of them and the way they engulfed yours.

his fingers slid past the elastic of your panties on either side of your hips, breaking the kiss for a moment to pull them down to your ankles, reuniting your lips together and even more passionately.

the kisses grew hotter as your skin did against his, his clothed chest pressed against your back as he kissed the side of your neck, helping flip you over so that you lay on your back, legs spread wide and wrapping around his waist, soaked panties hanging from one ankle.

"want a massage too?" you hinted as you eyed the rock-hard imprint poking through his sweatpants, palming him through the material. biting his lip through a smile, he shook his head, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"right now i'm only focused on you...gonna make you feel so good. fuck you so good you forget all this stress," his deep, hot breath trickled into your ear, having you squirming against his knee that was right up against your aching core, trying to relieve the ache by grinding against it.

his voice alone was enough to have your stomach filling with butterflies. but that along with his soft touch, his warmth, the faint scent of shampoo in his hair from last night's shower. you just couldn't resist him.

he drenched your neck with wet kisses, trailing down to your chest and stopping to palm them, massaging each one in his warm hands as he looked up at you all the while, large doe eyes filled with the sparkle of desire.

you just couldn't take it- looking into his eyes as he lewdly swirled his tongue against your hardened buds, sucking on each one so sensually.

but it wasn't until he continued his trail of kisses, shuddering when he placed your legs on his shoulders and reached your bundle of nerves, that you absolutely lost it.

you were a moaning mess as his hand gripped the soft plush of your thighs as the other entered you slowly with two fingers, his puffy lips around your throbbing clit and sucking softly. his bangs messily framed his eyes, sparking golden in the sun as daylight entered through the blinds.

you could never get over the sight of such a beautiful man in between your legs, eating you out so sensually, so erotically. tongue flicking against your throbbing bud, fingers spreading you wide to suck up all your juices, practically french kissing your lower lips until he needed to come up for a breath.

it wasn't long before he had you coming so intensely all over his fingers, glazed with your arousal as he removed them from you and sucked them clean.

your chest heaved, head thrown back onto the cold pillow, hands gripping his soft hair as he licked a finishing stripe across your fluttering entrance; he simply couldn't get enough of your taste.

your head was fuzzy with pleasure, already forgetting what you were even so stressed over; it was like you were literally high off of him.

but if you felt this way now, how would you feel when he's pounding into you in several moments? he always had you falling apart when you were wrapped around his cock.

he trailed his tongue along the valley between your breasts, the sunrise radiating warmth onto the sheets, his sun-kissed hair tickling your skin.

arching your back up to his plush lips that kissed every part of your body so lovingly, soft hands trailing and ghosting along your skin and causing goosebumps to pelt you.

your makeout was soft and slow, tasting his lips, glazed with your arousal with your tongue. and once it got rougher, he couldn't take not being inside you for one more second.

he sat up and slowly pulled his sweatpants and boxers down past his hips, teasing you by going as low as he could before his member could spring out.

you watched in anticipation, smiling when he was going as slow as humanly possible, so you hooked the waistband with two fingers, helping him pull them down.

lo and behold, his cock sprung out, immediately pressing against his stomach with how hard he was; tip flushed and glistening with precum. the sight was enough to have you clenching around nothing, just wanting to be stretched by his size, hug him tightly with your walls.

kicking his sweats and boxers off, he lowered himself onto you, supporting himself with his forearms on either side of your head. he bunched up his shirt and held it between his teeth, trying to keep it out of the way.

"beomgyu just take it off," you laughed, tugging at the soft material of his baggy shirt and helped it over his head, not caring where it landed when you threw it off the bed.

the comforter fluffed up around the two of you like you were floating in the clouds, cradling your naked bodies. you just wanted to stay here with him forever.

you whined against his lips, so needy for him and arching against his chest, until you looked over at your phone, the sudden tinge of worry in your eyes when you got the urge to check the time. there were still hours before you had to be up, and you both knew that. this feeling was so nice, you felt you didn't deserve it in the moment. "beom-"

"shhh just relax," he placed his thumb lightly over your lips, shushing you in the softest way possible. he didn't want the stressful thoughts rushing to you all at once, so he stopped you there. all he wanted right now was for you to focus on this moment, focus on the way his dick would slide so smoothly into you.

you looked into each other's eyes, so deeply that you began to see your own reflection in his glassy brown orbs. eye contact was your absolute favorite way to connect, especially when he was sliding into you so slowly; you felt like he was the only and most important thing on the planet.

the moan that leaves your mouth when he enters you harmonizes with his as you squeeze around him, your hands in his hair as he captures your whimpers with his lips when he leans down to kiss you.

"god you're so fucking wet," he rips his lips apart from yours to groan in your ear, butterflies entering your stomach with his lewd comment.

his hips rock back and forth ever so slowly, letting you adjust to his length as you stretch around him so perfectly.

the sun illuminates your skin so beautifully that he can't take his eyes off of you, wondering how he got such a beautiful girlfriend, he is just so proud to call you his <3

slowly thrusting in and out of you, he lifts your hips up with his hand on the small of your back, holding you there as he reaches over to grab a pillow and slides it under your hips. this not only supports your back but gives the perfect angle to hit every spot inside of you.

he accommodates to you so well because he knows just what you like, he loves knowing that your pleasure is coming first.

pinching your nipples to heighten your senses, whispering dirty things into your ear to make you even hornier, holding your leg up to fuck you deeper. he just knows all of the right things to have you so turned on, that your wetness seeps out and makes lewd squelching noises.

and he loved watching you from above; the way your mouth hangs opens when he hits deeper, the way your chest bounces with every thrust, the rosy tinge on your cheeks when he kisses you so sweetly.

"you are so beautiful," his soft voice fans across your lips as he kisses you slowly, your body fuzzy from the sheer pleasure, the depth of his voice driving you nearly insane.

"gyu you're gonna make me blush," you lightly chuckle, hitting him on the chest weakly as you're falling apart under him, holding the back of his neck with your other hand. he buries his face into your neck, chuckling at your remark as he bottoms out into you, moans escaping the two of you as you smile.

"and i'm gonna make you..." he looks back into your eyes, cheeks flushed as he tilts his head with a mischievous smile, wanting you to finish the sentence.

but before you could speak, he picked up his pace, slamming his hips into yours and deepening his thrusts; he wanted you to mean it. he wanted you to be on the verge of your orgasm. he wanted to hear you say what he was doing to you because he knew it would drive him closer to his.

he loves the way you both look down to watch his dick move in and out of you, your legs spread wide as he trails his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh, gripping the plush of your hips.

"fuck, you're gonna make me cum gyu!" your head was thrown back onto the pillow, neck exposed for him to kiss and suck marks onto, your back arching as he held your hips tight, slamming into you.

hearing you say that made his dick twitch violently inside of you, coaxing loud moans from your lips, his grunts growing louder in your ear.

"that's right say it again baby, tell me what i'm doing to you," he holds your chin steady with his hand as he searches your eyes, the hungriest look in his gaze like he's one word away from releasing.

"you're fucking me so good. so good gyu- fuck!" your head collapsed to the pillow again as he attached his lips to your nipples and sucked and licked until you were stimulated at the max.

"cum for me baby," he groans in your ear and at that second you are unraveling completely, releasing into a spasm that disperses hot pleasure throughout your skin and you swear you're in heaven with how fucking good this feels.

your insides are filled with throbbing warmth, and you realized that he is a huffing mess collapsed on your chest, his dick twitching inside of you as his warm seed is dripping out of your hole and onto the linen sheets.

"you filled me all the way up gyu," you chucked with a tired voice, wiping sweat from your brow. he picked his head up off of your chest and lazily smiled at you, leaning up to kiss you softly.

"what do you want for breakfast along with your creampie?" he smirks and you laugh so hard at his dumb joke. he loved making you laugh. he placed a kiss on your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you tightly and came down from your highs. you both could stay here forever.

with a delicious breakfast and a kiss out the door, your work presentation finally rolled around and you could've sworn you were completely nerve-free.

completely calm and confident as people listened in and clapped at your remarkable ideas and brilliant presentation.

but you couldn't take your mind off of your gyu, reminded of him with his warm cum trickling down your leg the entire time.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊

a/n: thank you so much for reading and for being patient with me during the time i have been inactive <3 there have been a lot of problems with family lately so i sincerely appreciate every single one of you for continuing to support me through this time :) but!! you can look forward to more fics as i am slowly getting back to writing. i love you all! also thank you from the bottom of my heart for over 600 followers i really am so so grateful🥹💗

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thegnomelord · 9 months ago

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i took 357191027r6392936446322736432947372 psychic damage from the Makarov fic so you gotta write reader being rescued, healed, rehabilitated and loved by the task force. imagine them teaching reader to be their own person or letting him top without any commands or punishments. reader would be whining like a puppy who doesn't know what it's doing and would be so cute and fearful looking for reasurance when fucking into a task force member it would be so cute

lol idk dude. I was intending to do the fic as a one off to satisfy my puplay kink but it's now started to rot my brain even more lol. If I did continue it, I don't know if I'd want a happy ending or an angsty one (omfg imagine going through all the healing and rehab and experiencing love only for one word from Makarov to have you going back to him without question)

So tell me ya'll if you want me to turn the one shot into a longer fic lol, but for now here's some headcannons, ideas/ whatever and some porn

CW:NSFW, rough anal, Simon x reader with Price watching, dom/sub.

I can't imagine Hound would be happy about the 'rescue' considering everything and definitely would be resistant to rehab (Hound biting ppl and getting muzzled lol) that dogheaded asinine stubbornness coming to bite him in the ass. I headcannon Hound to have already been violent when he was under Price's command but Price kept Hound in check(if anyone's seen that young ghost and price comic with him being compared to a fighting dog it's kinda like that).

Makarov didn't need to do much and just played into the aggressive tendency to make Hound as they are now. The more violent the reaction hound would make, the more attention and praise he'd get. Also I'm just a sucker for dog like characters that are unhinged. That have no moral compass except for the one they're loyal to and will do whatever they ask.

So the task force members would have their hands full with Hound that's basically an aggressive fighting dog taken straight out of the pit. Also I'm still thinking whether the 141 would try to steer Hound away from the pup/dog like mentality Makarov conditioned them into, or if they would try to redirect it by calling Hound 'pup, boy' etc, instead of 'dog' like Makarov did.

Also the grief Price would feel to see the man he thought was dead turned into that would break his heart. I don't know if I'd want him to crack down on trying to rehab hound, or let a lot of things slide because he's scared of fucking you up more.

But also like rehabed fighting dogs turn out to be the sweetest animals and Hound just going from this 'I will bite your throat out' to just a gentle giant that's just happy to be able to touch or hug someone without needed permission. . . but he can still bite a throat out.

Also I 1000% swear that Makarov's a whore and would have trained reader to have enough stamina to fuck him all night long so the task force would get pounded into next year lol.

This is questionable cannon and non-confirmed lol you just got me brain rotting with the cute pup part and this came out. Rough and quick.

CW:NSFW

You feel like you will die; heat burns through your veins, sweat crawls down your skin and makes your hair stick to your forehead. Your hands grip Simon's bruised hips, holding them up for him as you pound into him. "Please-" You barely manage a small whimper, hiding your face in Simon's shoulder.

Simon's body quivers beneath you, limp and boneless, a wet hole for you to use. He's as sweaty as you, rough grunts and half-formed swears leaping from his lips every time your hips meet his ass in a bruising thrust. He's the closest to you in size, albeit still smaller, which makes it easier for him to take your size than the others. His insides are a sweltering heat around your cock, fucked into a loose sloppy hole that would gape if you pulled out, muscles still doing their best to squeeze you every time you nail his prostate.

It makes you feel ashamed how long it took you to find it. Mounting anyone but Makarov feels wrong, you're not sure how fast or how deep to go, this current rough pace making Simon the most vocal since you began. You feel him cum again, walls clenching tightly for the first time in a while as you force him into spurting what's left in his empty balls.

"Pl- sir, I- please, please," You can't help but hiccup, your nails leaving crescent bruises in his skin as you just pound him through his orgasm. It's his fourth one.

"What's wrong son?" Price's words barely get through the fog of need in your skull, more little whimpers splitting from your lips. "Don't you want to let go?" Tears blurry your vision, you can barely see his face from where he's resting Simon's head in his lap.

You can't cum. Your balls are so full they feel like they'll explode any second, cock throbbing to finally shoot your load but no matter how harshly you thrust into the willing hole beneath you. It feels like those times Makarov would put a cock ring on you, but worse, now it's your own body refusing to give you release. You haven't earned it.

"Please-" You repeat, because that's the best your mind can come up with, your hips stuttering as overstimulation stabs your nervous system like a knife. "I-please, fuck- I can't." You force out, forcing yourself to return to the punishing pace, your pelvis starting to go numb like it would a few hours into Makarov using you as a living dildo.

Price's fingers are disgustingly gentle as they curl into your sweaty hair, making you look up at him with soft pressure on your scalp. There's no bite to his touch, no pain, it's too good for a thing like you.

You'll thank what god exists that Price seemingly understands your problem, "Oh, son." You hate the hint of sorrow in his tone, you hate yourself more for how it makes your heart pound in your ears. "Here, let me" He whispers, his other hand sliding down to your naked neck.

The lack of any collars around your neck still disgusts you every waking moment, still makes you feel wrong, bad dog. His fingers wrap around your throat. They're too loose to be a proper collar, but it lets you breathe easier, his palm warm and big enough to completely cover the 'V.M' tattooed on your skin.

"Go on, that's a good boy." He whispers, "Cum for us." Price orders, kissing you so softly it disgusts you, like heaven wrapped in thorns.

You feel fresh tears spill down your tears as the dam not letting you cum is finally torn down. You hiccup your 'thank you sir's against his lips as you spill inside Simon. You can just distantly hear Simon groan as you dump your cum into his sloppy hole, muscles weakly fluttering around your cock as you roll your hips, fucking your cum deeper into him, just the act of cumming hurting almost as much as being denied, your balls aching with every spurt of cum.

You collapse on Simon, pushing the breath out of his lungs, as boneless as him. You don't struggle when Price rolls you to your side, your cock slipping out. Cum and lube gushes out from his hole like a firehose, flooding the small space between you two, his rim red and irritated, muscles weakly fluttering around nothing as they try to close.

You try to thank him but you slur your words into his skin, feeling the muscles in his abdomen quiver as you huddle closer and wrap your arms around him, your chest pressed flush to his back. You expect him to pull away, Makarov hated being vulnerable like this longer than he needed, but all Simon does is grunt and tip his head back so you can hide your face in the space between his shoulder and neck.

"You olright Simon?" Price asks, brushing a hand through your sweaty hair for a few seconds before you feel him softly wiping away your spend from you two.

"Fuck," Simon breathes out, voice scratchy and rough. "Are we sure Makarov's human?" His hand reaches up to scratch your scalp as you kiss one of the numerous bite marks you left on him. His skin is a canvass of black and blue bruises, your bite marks starting to clot across his body. "Shit, I can't feel my legs."

His words feel like a slap in the face, and you don't notice how you let out a small whimper, your hold tightening. This is it, you'll have to let him go soon, he'll order you to leave like Makarov always did.

"None of that son." Price's voice is calm in your ear, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. "You did good."

Simon hums, his fingers running lower to scruff you, "Mhm, yeah," His words are slurred, exhaustion weighing on both of you. "Best snog I've ever had." He grumbles, and you don't doubt he won't admit it in the morning, but for the moment, as you feel yourself slowly drift off to sleep, you let yourself enjoy the praise, the warmth of human touch, the care you can feel in both of them.

This is starting to feel nice.

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #top male reader #trinkets from the hoard #captain john price #simon ghost riley x reader #cod simon riley #simon ghost riley x male reader #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #Hound-reader #Good Dog fic

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lovifie · 8 months ago

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Hi this is my first ever request lol, so I uh was wondering if you could write a soap x reader little red riding hood. It could be some cute fluff or I guess even smutty depending on how you'd want to depict it. Sorry if it's a rather blank request, I'm very bland when it comes to writing and such (>_<)

Hi love! Thank you so much for the request, I hope I met your expectations 🩷

It did turn really smutty though, so I hope you don't mind 🩷

Smut | 1818 words | Back to Masterlist

W: Werewolf!Soap x Little Red Riding Hood!Reader (inspired at least), smut, defined breeding kink must it's mostly a werewolf thing, biting, mentions of pregnancy (is the breeding kink warm up, you know), knoting.

You were used to being the one taking your grandma her food, making sure she still ate the produce she couldn't acquire in her house deep into the forest.

So every other week, you would do your little journey. It didn't take long, you'll get to her house before lunch time and you chose to stay the day with her before making your way back.

You already knew the path like the back of your hand, always on time and never getting lost.

There is also Johnny, a friendly neighbour who on many occasions chooses to walk along with you. The chat is nice, makes the walk more entertaining even when you go the different route that Johnny showed you; just because it is longer and that way you can talk for longer.

You obviously didn't trust him at first, a grown man in the middle of the forest sounds terrifying on its own. And you need to add to that the fact that Johnny is built like a brick house.

“I could have you for dinner.” He joked once when you asked him what did he ate to be so big. A silly joke.

The fear of the big man following you in the forest, quickly turned into the big man walking with you. And the little fear you had of the wild dissipated the closer he walked with you.

Especially, when during the spring rumours started flying around about a massive wolf living in the forest. Apparently a huge striped dog has been seen walking on the forest line for a couple of weeks now, always looking into the town but never quite entering.

The dog, big enough to be the size of a grown man on his hinged legs, eyes that reflect the light of the fire and teeth to rip the flesh off the bone.

Your grandma moved out of her house, moving inside town to be away from the animal. Still, you couldn't sleep at night knowing Johnny was out there.

With your grandma living in your house, you didn't have an excuse to walk in the forest. But still, on a freezing morning in the middle of spring you found yourself walking inside the forest wishing you could come across Johnny quickly and be back home.

What you come across instead, is a growling behind you. So deep you feel it shaking your bones before you can see it. You only need to see the outline of the monster before you are sprinting for your life, it is a stupid decision and you know it. It immediately triggers the beast to follow you.

The path to your grandma's house has never been so long and you don't even make half way through before you fall, tripping on your own feet. You turn around, looking for the dog which seems to have evaporated into thin air.

A warm hand on your back makes you jump, turning around and coming face to face with Johnny, a pained expression on his face. You jump into his arms, a groan into your ear as he hugs you back, a bit too hard.

You peel back when he cups your face. “You shouldn't be here, bonnie.” He says, looking in pain, making every alarm bell ring on your head.

You pat his body, looking for any injury and hearing him groan whenever your hand touches his body. “Are you in pain? Did it attack you? Are you fine?” You ask frantically.

“Lass!” He grunts, making you look into his eyes, dark when you lay your eyes on his. “You need to get back! Get away from me!”

“But why?” You ask, hurt with the rejection. “I came here just for you, Johnny…”

He groans, looking away from your face as he licks his lips. He sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “You need to go back because every part of my body is screaming at me to eat you whole, bonnie.”

“You can.” It comes out before you can register it, you are not a stranger to your own feelings for the man in front of you. The weekly walks, your hand on his arm, his hand on your back, the soft pecks on your cheek when saying goodbye. It quickly had you getting home warm on the face and your tummy.

The man groans again, closing his eyes, as if your words hurt him. “You don't know what you are saying-”

“I do! I do know!” You argue, cutting him off and sitting up closer to him but his arms pull you back. He looks down on you, searching for any doubt in your face. Anything that could silence the hungry voice in his brain, but when the only thing he can find is the same hunger in yours he laps forward, crushing his lips on yours.

He is not gentle by any means, his wide hands roam your body pulling you closer, grabbing your body, winking his nails into your flush meat, biting your lips, growling on your mouth. His hands scrunch up your dress, ripping the bloomers under it making you gasp at the feeling of the cold air on your core.

“I can fucking smell you, bonnie. And it's driving me mad. You have been driving me mad for months.” He grunts against your mouth, grabbing your hips to sit you on top of his.

You whine at his words. “I want to feel you, Johnny. I want to feel you here.” You say, grabbing one of his hands to place it on top of your crying cunt.

Johnny takes a deep breath, regulating himself, before he sinks two of his fingers inside of you; the stretch making you mewl against Johnny's neck, moaning softly as he starts to move his wrist.

You can feel him grind his hips against your, the material of his trousers rubbing against your exposed clit making you whine and he quickly shushes you kissing your temple as his fingers open you up for him.

“I can't wait to sink into you, my sweet bonnie.” He groans at you, making you clench at the sound.

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, closing his eyes as he hums at the taste. His pupils impossibly wide when he opens them again, the blue on his eyes barely visible.

He helps you onto your hand and knees, standing behind you as he licks your neck from behind, his tip probing at your entrance. You don't have a chance to peek at his shaft, so you don't expect the wide stretch that just simply seems to never end.

Never in your life has you felt this full, the stretch of his fingers far from enough and it has you falling face first with his hands on your hips.

He grunts when he bottoms out inside of you, bending down to lick the tears on your cheeks. “Shh, bonnie lass. You are taking me so well, I could live right here. So tight, so warm, so wet “ he moans, pulling his hips slightly back making you whine as you clench down making him grunt.

It's too much, it is reaching places you were not aware existed; his wide hands on your hips keeping you in place, it has your brain mushy barely able to put your hands under your face to prevent yourself from eating dirt.

His thrust starts to get deeper, slowly pulling out until only his tip is inside just to push in again just as deliciously slow as the first one. It is torturous how slow he fills you up, the empty feeling when he pulls back making you whine and move your hips back.

He pulls himself back, not wanting to give in to his instincts just yet, needing to know you are ready. The way your cunts sucks him in whenever he pulls back making him grunt; he hears you moan his name, asking for more, and that is everything he needs to hear.

He bends down, hugging your middle as he shoves his face on your neck, keeping you in place to be able to piston his dick in and out of your weeping cunt as fast as his hips allow him.

It pulls the breath out of your lungs, only able to moan loud like a whore as the man on your back fucks you like a bitch in heat.

His arms are tight around your body, his grunts and groans loud on your ear and when his hand moves lower, right over your clit rubbing it, is like pushing the button to have you coming undone.

You cry out his name, eyes rolling back as you do, your cunt pulsing around his cock making him fuck you faster.

You don't have time to come back down, not stopping pleasure waving over you. Filth being talked into your brain. “I'm gonna fuck you full of my pups, love. Gonna keep you forever, full of me, love. Gonna make you a mama, round and plush.” He groans, his brain empty of any sense and only listening to his instincts of breeding, the spring making him completely lose his ability to think clearly.

Another round of stretch has you whining softly, you are already to the brim what is it now? You cry at the feeling, Johnny mouth opening over the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His thrust became sloppy, more shallow as if he couldn't move as freely. He bites down hard on your shoulder, making you whine at the pain but the way you clench down on his length as he grunting as he comes inside of you, his hips flush with yours.

You moan at the feeling, warmth feeling every bit of your inside. But after a while you try to pull, wanting to lay down. Just for a stinging sensation to make you cry and Johnny to grab your hips to prevent you from moving.

“Let's stay like this for a little, bonnie. We stuck.” He groans, as if it makes perfect sense.

“What?” You ask confused.

“Shh, I'll explain it to you later, love.” He says, licking your neck like a dog and caressing your body.

And you want to argue, to understand what he means, to understand what is inside of you opening you so widely, to understand why he was talking about pups, to understand why he bite your shoulder so hard, to understand why the wolf following you suddenly disappeared when he appeared, to understand why he told you to go away, to understand how he found you so easily.

But your eyelids start to weigh tons when Johnny hums behind you, kissing your neck. Plus, the spring is barely starting and Johnny's den is close by. He'll explain later, when his brain stops screaming at him to keep breeding you.

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mismatched-sockss · 5 months ago

Text

Getting lost in your touch

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x wife!Reader » Word count: 4,7k » Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, minimal amount of plot with a dash of fluff, established relationship (married), sub!Spencer and softdom!reader in the beginning, switch Spencer and reader, reader is a little bratty at one point ig, both a little mean for a short moment, dry humping, begging, riding / cockwarming, teasing, handjob, nipple play, hand on throat but no choking, biting, unprotected p in v, creampie, pet names (my love, baby); bad writing? not sure how i feel about parts of this; » A/N: finally done! took me long enough lol; written with postprison!Spencer in mind, but feel free to imagine what ever season / era you prefer, there is no timeline stuff or anything mentioned (only being in a relationship for six years); at first i didn't want to do more than two bingo fields per fic, but i'm afraid i won't get far if i stick to that :D, didn't think i would be this slow when i started, but sometimes my brain hates me; please let me know if i forgot any warnings; enjoy!

⚶ bingo masterlist | masterlist ⚶

The sound of the door falling shut made you jump out of your skin and you spilled some of the iced tea you were pouring yourself. “Shit”, you cursed in a whisper. You put the container down and grabbed a kitchen towel to clean up the mess so the counter wouldn't get sticky.

Except for the muffled thud of a bag falling to the floor and shoes getting kicked off, the apartment stayed silent. This, paired with the force the door had been closed, you already knew what you would find when you'll walk into the living room and your heart sank at the thought.

You quickly drank the small bit that had actually found its way into the glass and hurried out of the kitchen. The sight you were met with, was exactly what you had imagined. Your husband sat on the couch, leaning over with his face buried in his hands, his shoulders hanging low. Your heart hurt for him, seeing him like this. It wasn't a sight you were met with every time he came home, but it happened often enough as it was.

You slowly walked over and when you were close enough you reached out, brushing your fingertips through Spencer's hair. “Hey”, you breathed out, moving your hand over the back of his neck and to his shoulder where you let it rest.

He slowly lifted his head, a tired smile on his lips that didn't nearly reach his eyes. “Hey....” His hand reached for yours on his shoulder and he held on to your wrist, drawing soft circles over your pulse with his thumb. For a minute neither of you said a word and you just looked into each others eyes.

You lifted your other hand to cup his cheek and gently brushed your thumb over his cheekbone. He leaned into the touch and with a shaky breath Spencer laid his hands on your hips, pulling you between his legs so he could bury his head in you chest, hiding away from all the cruelty of this world he had to face every day. You hugged him close, one hand tangled in the curls on the back of his head and you softly scratched over his scalp with your nails.

“That bad?”, you asked softly. He silently nuzzled his head deeper into you, his arms tightening around your waist with his hands bunching up the back of your tank top in his fists. This was answer enough; you wouldn't pry any further if he didn't want to talk about it right now. You leaned your head down, pressing your lips to the crown of his head and kept them there.

For a moment the both of you just stayed like this, silent and in each others embrace, as you tried to hold him together, tried to shield him from harm – even if only from his own mind and the painful memories – as best as you could. After a while the tension in his shoulders started to leave under your touch, his muscles slowly relaxing as you softly rubbed your hand over his back and a deeps sigh left his lips.

Spencer's hold on you loosened and he moved his hands up and back down over your sides, gently squeezing your waist then. He turned his head and started to plant kiss after kiss on your chest. His nose was pressed flat against your skin as he slowly worked his way over the hem of your top and your décolleté, up to your collarbones.

Your breath hitched and your heart began to beat faster, your skin getting warmer with every kiss.

He leaned back and pulled you with him onto the couch by your waist, keeping his lips on your skin and as he moved, he continued leaving open mouthed kisses higher and higher over the side of your neck until he reached your jaw.

As soon as you lowered yourself on his thighs, straddling his hips, you turned your head to capture his lips in a passionate yet gentle kiss. You moved your hands to the back of his head and tangled your fingers in his hair, slightly tugging on the strands which made him groan in return.

With a deep inhale you pulled back just enough that your noses were almost touching, your hands on the sides of his neck right under his ears and you could feel his steady heart beat. Your fingers were buried in his hair and you played with the strands at the base of his head.

“What do you need, baby?”, you asked him, keeping your voice low; soft and sweet. When he answered you, he did so immediately and before you even had said the final word. He matched your volume, and only said one single word:

“You.”

With a small smile on your lips you brushed the tip of your nose against his, gently nudging it. “I know, my love”, you cooed and kissed his lips. “How do you need me?” You slightly leaned back so you could see his whole face. Spencer just looked at you, not saying a word, only darting his gaze between your eyes.

The look in his eyes almost brought you to tears. Vacant of the usual light shimmering in his big brown eyes, they almost seemed dull and empty. Instead helplessness had taken its place. So lost, heartbroken and full of sorrow.

Tears started to well up in Spencer's eyes, gathering on his lower lashes until a single tear slipped out of the corner of his eye, rolling down his cheek. You gently took his face in your hands and stroked your thumbs over his skin, brushing the tear away.

It broke your heart to see your husband like this. His job was more than hard, so incredibly challenging and demanding on both his body and mind. He didn't tell you much about what he had to deal with, only occasionally opening up more when he needed to get it off his chest, when it got too much. Even then he didn't get in to it too deeply, wanting to spare you the gruesome details. You already knew enough as it was; fiction – all those crime and cop shows or movies – didn't paint the best picture compared to reality, but you had consumed your fair share of true crime in your lifetime. So even if you couldn't imagine how he was feeling exactly and what kind of toll it really took out on him, you could imagine what he was seeing.

Trying to keep your own tears at bay as you were hurting for and with him, you closed your eyes and kissed his forehead. You let your lips linger before you pulled back again.

“Want me to take care of you?” You slightly tilted Spencer's head back and planted a small kiss on his lips, then a second one. “Nice and slow? That what you want?”

“Please...” His voice broke and there were so many emotions behind this one word, so much hurt and want and need and desperation. So much love for you and trust in you.

You kissed him again, firmer this time and breathed out an okay against his lips as you looked deep in his eyes. “I've got you, baby.”

With a relieved sigh that sounded a lot like thank you he relaxed more into your touch and sank deeper into the back of the couch. Your lips immediately attached to his again and his hands moved over your back to pull you even closer until your chest was pressed flush against his.

While deepening the kiss, you moved your hands down his neck and to his chest, then up to his shoulders and under his suit jacket. You pushed it over his shoulders and helped him to take it off, more or less carelessly throwing it to the other side of the couch. Before you went on to loosen his tie, you pressed your fingertips into the muscles of the crook of his neck and shoulders, kneading the tense tissue for a short moment and took a mental note when he hummed in content to give him a proper massage later.

The knot of his tie opened up with one tug, but you didn't care to fully remove it and started to undo the small buttons of his dress shirt. As soon as you had worked your way down a few you broke the kiss, leaving you both panting and gasping for air, and planted soft kisses along his jaw.

Spencer let his head fall back, giving you more space to make your way down his neck. He took in a sharp breath when he felt your teeth grazing over is collarbone. You gently nibbled on his skin, flattening your tongue over it to soothe the spot. When you opened the last button you let your hands glide over his stomach up to his chest, pushing his shirt to the sides.

You caught his lips again and you felt him getting hard under you; after slightly adjusting your position, you started grinding against him in a slow and steady rhythm. Both of you moaned into each other's mouths at the contact and he slid his hands down your back until they lay on your ass; he gently squeezed the soft flesh and pulled your hips closer. You could feel how wet you were as your clit effortlessly slid over the fabric, your panties already soaked and you had barely started.

For a while you just moved with and against each other – grinding, touching, kissing – before you let your hands wander down with a purpose. The rattling of his belt buckle as you opened it didn’t even reach your ears, drowned out by the soft whimpering moans that left Spencer’s throat.

With his help you managed to pull his pants down enough so you could wrap your hand around his erection, eliciting a groan from him. “Oh, fuck.”

You began to stroke his cock with slow movements, taking your time with every pump of your fist. Every whimper, every small whine, shot waves of heat through your body and right to your core. You desperately wanted to finally feel him in you, but you held back. Your plan was to take it slow; you promised him slow.

And if he had taught you one thing, it was to hold back. You could hear his voice in the back of your head, purring in the sweetest tone every time he drove you crazy with endless teasing: “Patience is a virtue, my love.” You wondered if Spencer would regret it – even just a tiny bit – by the time you were done with him tonight.

It didn't take long before he buried his face in your shoulder, panting and moaning against you neck as he held on to your hips with a tight grip. "Need to be inside you", he sighed, his warm breath fanning over your skin.

You hummed with a smile on your lips. “Let's get you more comfortable first, hm?”

Before you got up from his lap, you gave his cock a few more pumps and swiped the pad of your thumb over his head; his hips jolted up and he groaned.

A small laugh in adoration left your lips and you pressed your lips against his jaw for a quick peck. You shuffled back and got up, bringing him with you by his hands and after he shrug off his shirt you took his hand again and led him to the bedroom.

Spencer got on the bed and sat against the headboard after a tilt of your head, taking off his pants before he settled down. You took off your own, your top already discarded somewhere on the floor in the living room, leaving you in only your bra now.

You crawled over the bed to take your spot in his lap again, only this time you weren't separated by too many layers of fabric when your pussy met his cock; your lips parting over his shaft as if to invite him in.

“Fuck- you're so wet."

"All for you, baby. Always."

His hands found their way to your hips; you lifted them and reached down to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance. Painfully slow you sank back down again, trying to prolong him filling you up for as long as possible. Breathy moans leaving both your throats, the sensation almost overwhelming.

Spencer tried to guide you down faster with his hold on your hips, but you stopped instead and shook your head in disapproval – yet still with a smile on your lips – as you pulled his hands from your body. A soft whimper left his lips, but when he nodded you let go of his hands and sank down further until he was buried in your core to the hilt.

You parted your legs further, taking his cock even deeper; a short breathy moan left your lips when his full length was buried in your walls, your clit brushing deliciously against his pelvis.

Instead of starting to lift your hips, you stayed just as you were, only moving your hips in a slow grind a couple of times – barely noticeable. You leaned in to press your chest against his and captured his lips in a heated kiss.

His hands roamed over your body, not leaving a single inch of your skin untouched. Only when he cupped your breasts over the fabric and gently squeezed them did you break the kiss. He pulled the cup of your bra down, latching his lips immediately around your exposed nipple.

With a soft moan you watched him and reached behind you to unclasp your bra; it landed by the rest of your discarded clothes. You tangled your fingers in Spencer's hair and slightly tugged on the strands to pull him back and face you again.

For a moment you just let your gaze wander over his face until you stopped at his mouth. This time when you leaned in to kiss him, it wasn't as desperate as the last one; but slow and almost gentle, pouring all your love into it.

And after what felt like an eternity to him, he couldn't take it anymore and he pulled back. "Please, baby, I- Ah, fuck, I need you to move."

"But I am moving", you trailed off, voice as sweet as sugar, and barely holding back a smirk. You ground against him, in just the slightest movement and to underline your claims more, you let your hands wander over his chest and stomach; fingertips sliding became nails softly scratching over the skin the deeper you went. Spencer arched his back into you, goosebumps rising on his skin.

"Ah- you know what I mean", he said breathless, his eyelids fluttering as he held your gaze.

Feigning to think about it you hummed, moving your hands from where your bodies met to his sides, careful not to tickle him. “Do you mean... like this then?” You smiled innocently, stayed seated and intentionally clenched around him once.

He sucked in a sharp breath and groaned loudly, his hips jolting up so hard and sudden, you had to hold on to his sides to not lose your balance.

"I swear to god, if you don't start moving soon, I-", he hissed before he stopped to swallow hard, but he didn't finish vocalizing his threat; the pleading tone in his voice had changed, turning deep and hoarse – assertive –, adding to the fire that was burning brighter and brighter in his eyes. The promise of an inevitable payback for your bitter-sweet torment still on his tongue, but he didn't need to say it out loud for you to know and understand.

You bit on the tip of your tongue, again smiling innocently at him but barely concealing your amusement. "What happens then?”, you inquired, knowing, it would rile him up even more. “Now you've made me curious."

"Come on, please. Want to feel you." There it was again, the whiny, pleading and breathless tone you couldn't get enough of.

To be honest, you had to hold back quite a bit by now, wanted nothing more than to satisfy his wish and ride him until the both of you were falling apart, but teasing him was just too much fun, too tempting; and you also knew, all of this would help to take his mind off of everything a bit longer, which was still your main goal.

You leaned in to kiss him. When he raised his chin and tried meeting you half way, you slightly pulled back again, just out of reach. The prettiest sound fell from his lips, a whimper all needy and desperate and whiny; his grip on your hips became firmer and his nails were digging into your skin as he tried pulling you impossibly closer, trying to bury himself deeper into your warmth. At this rate, there would be some pretty bruises on your hips by tomorrow morning.

When you leaned back in, your lips were barely touching the corner of his mouth. You left a feathery kiss after the other along his jaw and moved your hands over his chest to hold on to his shoulders, indicating you would give him what he wanted from you, what he was begging for.

The grin that stretched your lips was a little taunting, a little mean, when he let his head fall back with a whimper on his lips and his hands dug even deeper into your flesh. Oh, Spencer will hate you for what you were about to do...

You gently grazed your teeth on his jaw, softly nibbling on the skin and slowly raised your hips all the way, then slid down his length just as slow. His breath hitched, shaking. His jaw went slack and you watched as Spencer's eyes rolled back, a deep and long moan leaving his lips. When you repeated the motion for a second time, he relaxed more against the headboard and closed his eyes.

You did it a third time.

And then you stopped.

Spencer's head snapped back up as soon as he realised you wouldn't keep going. The look in his eyes made a shiver run down your spine and when your walls clenched this time, you didn't do it on purpose. The tight grip on his cock and the fact that you were biting down on your lip to keep from smirking at him, failing to contain the giggle bubbling up in your throat at the same time, made him sit back up straight and wrap his arms around your; his hands spreading over your shoulder blades and lower back. You saw a glint flash in his eyes, saw the moment a switch flipped in him and you felt giddy with excitement.

You squealed when he flipped you over without a warning and you giggled harder, which quickly turned to a moan when he buried his face in the crook of your neck and bit into the flesh. Another moan right after, high-pitched, when he snapped his hips hard against yours in just one quick hard thrust. You wrapped your arms around is torso, clinging onto his shoulders.

“So you think that's funny, huh?”

“Uh-hu”, you sighed out near his ear with a smile on your lips, panting.

He lifted himself up, supporting his weight by leaning on his arm next to your head, and slid his right hand up your body; from the spot he had gripped into your hips just moments before, over your side and stomach, your sternum and higher until his palm was on your throat. You tilted your head back, making more room for his hand and you swallowed hard, waiting for his next move; heart skipping a beat in anticipation, waiting and hoping for the familiar gentle squeeze on the sides of your neck and his fingers pressing into the delicate skin.

With a tight grip on your jaw Spencer pulled your head back to face him. He cocked his eyebrow when he saw you pout, a taunting smirk starting to form on his lips. He nodded his head and pursed his lips, before the smirk came back. “I'll show you funny.”

Your stomach flipped and your heart started pounding in your chest, threatening to crack out of your ribcage. Fuck. You should have known he would turn it around and play it like that. You had it coming, really.

He leaned back and sat up, perching on his heels as he wrapped your legs around him and kept a firm hold on the insides of your thighs; angling his hips just right, he stared to lazily roll his hips, hitting right at the first thrust that spot deep in you that made you see stars.

Both of you moaned in unison and you watched him close his eyes, his head fell back; relishing the sensations of finally being able to thrust into you. That blissed out look on his face was almost enough to send you over the edge right this moment.

He kept the slow pace for a while, but you needed more, growing more impatient with every drag of his cock against your walls. “Faster... please”, you whined.

Spencer chuckled and looked down at you. “Aw, can't handle what you are dishing out, baby?”, he mocked with a playful tone in his voice. You simply shook your head, pouting and soft whimpers leaving your lips. Despite the allusion that he wouldn't do it, he picked up the pace, snapping his hips harder and faster against yours.

As he bend down to lean over you he let go of your thighs; his right hand stayed on you and slid higher over your skin until he cupped your breast – gently massaging and playing with your nipple – and his left landed next to you, so he could hold himself up. His lips latched on to your other breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it.

The added stimulation set your body even more on fire and your walls clenched around his cock; that familiar knot in your stomach began to build and tighten rapidly, making you feel a little dizzy already. “'mso close...”, you moaned breathless.

With a last lick over the hardened peak, he lifted his head and caught your eyes. “Yeah? You wanna cum?” You nodded eagerly, holding his gaze. “What if I don't let you?”, he mused with a one sided smirk.

“No. No, please- I- ah fuck”, you started to babble, slightly panicked, “I-I- need to cum so bad, please, please let me cum! Wanna cum for you, Spencer.”

He caught your lips in a kiss and slid his tongue between them when you gasped, too distracted to notice his hand letting go of your breast and moving between your bodies, his fingers quickly finding your clit.

It didn't take long before you weren't able to kiss him back, moaning against his mouth instead as your jaw went slack. “Oh fuck, yes, like that. Like that, don't stop. Ah, shit!”

Your back arched into him and you threw your head back, deeper into the pillows, as your vision got white and your orgasm hit you, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Spencer didn't give you much time to come down from your high. He buried his face in your neck and slid his arms under your back, holding you in a tight grip to him.

Your eyes rolled back, nothing but strangled noises leaving you and you held on to him as if your life depended on it as he pounded into you at a brutal pace now, chasing his own release. The bed-frame was creaking from the force and if you would care, you might be worried that it would break.

Right before it got too much for you, your body slowly protesting against the continued stimulations and was screaming for a break, his rhythm faltered and with a couple of last hard thrusts he held onto you even tighter.

“F-fuck!” A long and deep groan left his lips, muffled by your neck, as his hips stilled and he kept himself buried as deep as he could in your core as he came, his cock twitching with every wave of cum, his body shuddering as he collapsed above you.

After a minute or two for you to catch your breaths, Spencer turned his head to plant a lingering kiss below your ear and lifted himself up just enough to slide down your body – pulling out in the process and you gasped at the sudden emptiness; with an exhausted sigh he settled down, his head comfortably resting on your chest and his arms pressed to your sides, softly stroking his thumbs over the sensitive skin above your waist.

You hummed in content and tangled the fingers of your right hand in his hair, slightly dampened now, and placed your left hand on his arm, drawing circles with your thumb on his skin of your own. He hummed, relaxing even more against you as you played with his hair.

He moved his arm to take your left hand, holding it in his, resting both your hands on your stomach. Lost in his thoughts he let his thumb glide over your ring finger, moving the filigree silver ring around.

“How are you feeling?”, you asked in a soft voice.

For a moment he kept silently playing with the ring on your finger, then he pulled your hand closer to him, pressing a kiss over your wedding band. Your heart skipped a beat at the sweet gesture, a small smile stretching on your lips. His lips lingered for a few seconds before he laid your intertwined hands back on your stomach. Spencer turned his head to look at you and lifted himself up to lean on his forearm. You moved your hand out of his hair, to the back of his neck instead, when he came closer.

His eyes darted back and forth between yours and you let out an almost inaudible sigh, relieved when you met his gaze and saw the look in his eyes was a lot softer than when he had come home, the light was back in them, and his features were more relaxed. “Better.”

He shifted his weight and moved up to close the distance. A small smile stretched on his lips as he hovered over you. He let go of your left hand and cupped your cheek, his fingers sliding into your hair and he stroked his thumb over your cheek.

“I love you”, he breathed out before he captured your lips in a slow and deep kiss that made your heart flutter and sent a wave of butterflies through your whole body.

Six years with this man and he still made you feel like this; all giddy and blushing, kicking your feet and twirling your hair around your finger, toes curling with even the smallest kiss and brush of his lips against yours, heart skipping a beat every time you saw him and endless butterflies fluttering in your stomach that never calmed down and would never die.

You sighed into the kiss and pulled him closer, melting into him as much as he melted into you. When the kiss broke, Spencer didn't move too far away. He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, pressed his lips to yours again for a quick kiss and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

“I love you too”, you whispered and tilted your head slightly to plant another kiss on his lips. With a smile he lifted his head and for a moment you just looked at each other, drowning in the others eyes.

You lifted your hand and brushed a strand of his curls behind his ear, the tips of your fingers moving over his temple in a feathery light touch. “Why don't we order some food, get cleaned up in the meantime and then just stay on the couch, cuddle and watch a movie or something. Your pick.”

“Food or TV?”

“Both. What ever you want, love.”

» A/N 2: we're getting closer but my bingo card is kind of all over the place, will we ever see a filled line before the deadline? :'D

#cmkinkbingo2024 #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ghosts can write #💜 s.r.#--- mismatched🧦

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dixons-sunshine · 7 months ago

Text

Cleansing The Mind, The Soul And The Body | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF credits to @reedusmcbridedaily.*

Summary: Getting Daryl to take a shower or a bath when he wasn't in the mood was never easy. It took a lot of skillful convincing and even some bribery. Luckily, as his wife, all it took was a batting of your eyelashes and he was putty in your hands—and you took this to your advantage.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria; post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past abuse, Daryl's scars.

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: A fic born from this idea by @louifaith. Hope you like this! This was originally supposed to be a 500 word blurb but I got carried away lol.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The sun was almost completely gone from the sky. The first stars of the night sky were twinkling brightly outside the window of the bathroom in your shared home with Daryl, and the calming, cool breeze was flowing in through the slightly open window. The water was starting to fill up the bathtub, and you meticulously added just enough bubble bath liquid you had found on a run a few weeks prior.

Behind you, Daryl was reluctantly slowly undressing himself, carelessly tossing his shirt into the laundry hamper. He was grumbling to himself under his breath, making you laugh lightly.

“Whatever you want to say, you can say it to my face, Dixon,” you joked, turning the faucet off and turning around to face your half naked husband.

Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nothin',” he answered, slowly stepping out of his jeans and boxers and walking over to the bathtub and settling into the bubbly water. “Let's just get this fuckin' over with already.”

You chuckled affectionately, settling onto your knees beside the bathtub and bringing a hand up to brush through his hair. Even though the archer didn't admit it, the warm water of the bathtub was soothing the aches in his body. And your soft hand gently threading through his hair had him practically melting into the water. Despite originally being against the idea of having you bathe him, insisting that he wasn't a little kid and he didn't need someone cleaning him, if he was already so content with just your hand in his hair, he didn't even want to know how relaxed he'd feel if you were to gently wash him.

Daryl subconsciously leaned into your touch and let out a small, content sigh, eliciting a light laugh from you. “Relaxed? I thought you didn't want this. Didn't you say that you "didn't need to be babied" and that "this would be a waste of time"?”

Daryl grumbled under his breath, lightly swatting your hand away. “Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to hide how his lips twitched up into a smile.

You giggled and leaned over the bathtub, catching his lips for a quick, tender kiss, before pulling away again. “Okay, handsome. What first? Body or hair?”

“Hair,” Daryl replied slowly, suddenly feeling hyper aware of the fact that he was naked and vulnerable in front of your eyes.

You nodded and carefully got to work on his hair, wetting it and carefully applying shampoo, working it into his hair while lightly scratching his scalp. “I love your hair. Long hair really suits you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, looking at you.

“Yeah. It compliments your features perfectly. I love it.”

Daryl closed his eyes and basked in the caring, loving moment. However, he couldn't help the nervousness that creeped up on him. The scars on his body were on full display, but luckily the ones on his back were hidden from your view for now. He chastised himself for feeling so insecure about his scars—you were his partner for two years before you became his wife a couple of months prior, and a loyal companion and friend for two years before that, dating all the way back to the quarry. You were well aware of his scars and about his father's abuse, and always worshipped him and reassured him that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of, but that didn't stop his insecurity from creeping up from time to time.

And what should've been a loving, tender moment could potentially be ruined by his insecurity.

While applying the conditioner to his hair, you noticed his now opened eyes staring ahead at the wall, his eyebrows furrowed together as he subconsciously crossed his arms over his chest, right over his scars. You instantly knew what was going through his mind, and you took it on yourself to lift his spirits.

You gently cupped his cheek with one of your hands, prompting him to look at you. His beautiful, ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes, and you could clearly see the turmoil within their beautiful depths. It made your heart ache to know that someone caused the man you loved so much harm. If his father was still alive, Daryl wouldn't have had to worry about a confrontation with him. No, you would've given the man a taste of his own cruel medicine and after that, you would've killed him.

“Baby,” you whispered softly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Daryl could feel a blush creep up onto his cheeks. He scoffed and ducked his head, letting his wet hair fall in front of his eyes. “Stop,” he mumbled, but he couldn't help the small smile that crept up onto his face.

You giggled and tucked his hair behind his ears. “You are! You're so beautiful, Daryl. I can't believe how lucky I got with you. I won't be surprised if every woman here has a crush on you. Well, except Tara, but other than her...”

“Nah,” he denied and shook his head in disagreement. “Ain't no woman who would give me the time of day 'cept ya. 'Sides, even if there were, I ain't need no other woman. I already have the perfect one.”

You smiled and leaned over for another kiss, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You pulled back with a soft laugh, admiring the man who you'd come to love above everything else.

“And you swear on your life that you're not a romantic. That last line was smooth, Dixon,” you mused, grabbing the soap bar that smelled like lavender and turned back to the archer. “Is this okay?” you asked, motioning to his body.

Daryl's heart swelled at your thoughtfulness. You never wanted to do something that would make him uncomfortable, and he appreciated you for that. Nobody understood him quite like you did.

“Yeah, s'fine,” he replied with a nod, pushing that nagging voice in the back of his mind away. You loved him, every part of him. If you didn't, you would've run for the hills a long time ago. You weren't freaked out by his scars. You loved him for him, scars and all, and he'd be damned if he let his self deprecating thoughts ruin a good, loving moment.

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes while you continued to wash his body. However, when he slowly sat forward so that you could wash his back, you broke the serene silence with your loving, soft whispers.

“You're so strong, Dar,” you whispered, gently tracing your soapy fingers over his scars. An involuntary shiver traveled across Daryl's spine, eliciting a small giggle from you. “You're a warrior. You've been fighting to live the life you deserve even before the dead started rising. You've been surviving for far longer than most of us. That makes you so fucking brave, baby. And I know you don't feel like it, but you deserved to be loved, and you are loved. Rick loves you. Michonne loves you. Carol, Maggie, Rosita, Aaron, all of them. But I can assure you, nobody loves you as much as I do. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you. I'd do anything for you.”

Daryl inhaled sharply. He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to go away. Hearing that from you was exactly what he needed in that moment. He knew it would be a long journey for him until he actually believed he was worthy of love, worthy of your love, but with you by his side, he knew he'd get there eventually.

“I love ya,” he whispered, staring into your eyes to let you know he meant it. He truly did love you. Nothing could ever change that.

“I love you too,” you answered with a smile, gently rinsing the soap from his back before grabbing the handheld showerhead and instructing him to lean his head back. You carefully rinsed the conditioner from his hair, bringing an end to the bath time.

You grabbed a towel and shook it out, using it to dry your husband. He looked at you in amusement but allowed you to do so, not-so-secretly enjoying the attention you were giving him. You then grabbed the fresh pair of boxers and handed it to him, as well as a pair of flannel pants. He got dressed in them and turned back at you.

“Lift your arms,” you instructed, watching the man lift an eyebrow at you but complying nonetheless. You helped him slip his shirt on, and after he was dressed, you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his clothed chest.

Daryl wasted no time in returning the hug. He tightly wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there. He gently rocked you from side to side.

“Dar?” you whispered, catching his attention.

“Hm?”

“Do you wanna cuddle?”

“Mhm.”

“You wanna be the little spoon?” you asked, giggling as Daryl's arms tightened around you. You already knew what the answer was without him having to say anything. “C'mon. Let's go to bed, handsome.”

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certaimromance · 1 month ago

Text

ꫂ ၴႅၴ Effects of the Curse.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!reader

Summary: After receiving some outside comments, the topic of marriage comes up. Unfortunately, you and Aaron have different views on the matter.

Words: 2,7k.

TW: mention to marriage, divorce and haley. angst without happy ending. established relationship. about a year after hotch's departure from the fbi. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: As a person who wants to get married, this is pretty personal lol.

Call me crazy, but I truly believe that Hotch would not remarry after Haley for fear of repeating history (he is very the prophecy vibes for me).

♡ Enjoy! ♡

You were leaning against one of the kitchen counters as you waited for the water you had put in the kettle to heat up and allow you to brew coffee. Behind you, you could hear your boyfriend rummaging through the cupboard for your favorite mug and carefully placing it next to his, going through the same routine the two of you had already established.

But something was feeling different this time.

It had more to do with your memories of the family dinner you'd gone to the day before, where there hadn't been a single person who hadn't asked when you were going to officially become Mrs. Hotchner, when you were going to take that big step down the aisle, and maybe even expand the family beyond that. It was a little silly for you to think so much about it, because those were the typical comments people made when they saw a functioning couple, and it had happened to you before with ex-boyfriends you took home, but this time it felt more serious.

Maybe it was because of how your heart was racing as you imagined wearing a ring that would show your total commitment to love someone to death, or maybe it was how Aaron reacted, or rather his lack of reaction, and how much that bothered you.

The sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window and filtering through the trees in the yard had you so mesmerized at that moment that you barely felt when his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you let out a slight sound of surprise and relaxed a little under his touch.

“What is on your mind? Perhaps the new coffee maker we should definitely consider purchasing?” He asked with a cheerful tone.

Yes, you two definitely had to buy a new one after the old one suddenly stopped working. But that wasn't what you were thinking about. You were a long way from that.

“Sure, we should do that.” Your answer was blurted out almost out of obligation and came out robotically.

He wasn't stupid, nor had he lost the habits of a profiler after so many years as one. He knew you well enough to know that something was troubling you, even if he didn't know exactly why. He pulled you a little closer and planted a small kiss on the top of your head, tightening his grip on your waist a little more to comfort you as he spoke.

“Darling.” He murmured softly, wanting you to give him your full attention. “I can practically see the gears turning in your head, what's wrong with you?”

You, were what you wanted to say.

“Nothing, just...it's been a long day.” That was all that came out of your mouth.

To tell the truth, it had been an exhausting day, and at least you hadn't lied that much. You had been very restless, trying to do many things to keep the destructive thoughts out of your mind, and it had made you quite tired.

“Don't try to fool me. I know you well enough to know when you are lying.” He gently pinched the sides of your waist and turned you to look into his eyes.

“I...I was just thinking about some things my family said yesterday.” You finally confessed, your voice a little shaky, as if telling him would embarrass you.

“Like what?” He furrowed his brow in concern, brushing a hand against your cheek in that way that always made you feel a bit weak in the knees.

His touch was so warm and loving against your skin, and for a moment, it almost made you forget what you were thinking about. Almost.

“Just a few things about how I haven't married you yet, and...” You didn't even want to finish the sentence, feeling your heart beat a little faster as the words got stuck in your throat. “That we don't have, you know, kids.”

Aaron took a quick look at your face as he heard your confession. His heart clenched a little as he realized what you were talking about, and he couldn't help but be curious about it. The topic of marriage and having children hadn't come up much since you started dating because he already had Jack and had been married once. It was a goal he'd already achieved. However, he knew it was a topic that needed to be discussed, as he saw your worried expression and slightly trembling voice.

He put his hands on your shoulders, giving them a gentle massage to relieve the tension. He didn't want to seem careless or unconcerned, so he spoke after pausing.

“And you were worried because...?”

He looked at you with a kind of intense gaze that made you feel like your heart was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. As he massaged your shoulders, you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

“Well, from the way you reacted, I guess.” You admitted, your voice full of doubt. “I mean, I know we haven't really talked about it, but...it's hard to know what you're thinking when the subject comes up and you have that cold expression on your face, like it's nothing relevant.”

His expression softened, and he brought his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks to make sure you were looking directly at him.

“You know very well that I have already taken care of that.” He said softly, trying to find the best words. “Marriage, children...I had that. I have Jack. And he's enough for me.”

Enough for him. Were you too?

His words had a surprising effect on you, leaving you with a somewhat bitter taste in your mouth. Despite this, you maintained a calm exterior, striving to conceal your true feelings.

“And what about what's enough for me?” You inquired, addressing the issue with a candor you had previously avoided. The words emerged from your mouth almost involuntarily.

Hotchner was taken aback by your question. The way you asked it gave the impression that you were accusing him, although he was unsure if this was the intention. He took a deep breath, searching for the most tactful way to respond to your words.

“I...I didn't realize.” He began, pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts. “You never mentioned that you wanted to get married or have children. I thought you were happy with our current situation.”

“Not really.” You admitted, avoiding eye contact as you looked down at the floor. “I mean, I really love Jack, he's a wonderful boy.”

Aaron listened intently as you continued, your words coming out hesitantly.

“And being with you...it makes me so happy.” You sighed and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “But…I feel like I need more. I want more, and I'm not necessarily talking about a child. I want to know that you belong to me as much as I belong to you.”

Aaron walked over and stood in front of you, placing his hands on your hips. He stared at you as he spoke, his voice soft but firm.

“Darling, my love...I belong to you, and you belong to me, and you don't need a ring to know that. If you want one, I'll buy it for you, that or whatever you want.”

You let out a small sigh and leaned closer to him, resting your head on his chest. You could hear the steady beat of his heart as he held you tightly and his body enveloped you in a warm embrace.

“I know.” You said quietly, the words somewhat muffled against his shirt. “But it's not just about the ring. It's about the commitment, the symbol of our union...and how that gives me security.”

He ran his fingers through your hair gently as he listened, his touch soothing against your scalp.

“Listen to me.” He began, his tone affectionate. “I've always been committed to you. From the moment I allowed myself to open up to you to the first night we spent together, and every day since. You know it. Does it really take a ceremony to make you believe it?”

When you looked at him, you felt a rush of emotions. You knew he loved you, and he was right. He had shown you his commitment many times. You had even been living together for a couple of years. But there was still a part of you that longed for that tangible symbol of love.

“I don't doubt you.” You said, choosing your words carefully. “But it's about symbolism. Having physical proof of our commitment shows the world how firmly bound we are to each other. And I know you believe in it. You were married once for a reason.”

Oh, that's a sensitive topic.

He let out a small sigh when you mentioned his previous marriage, and his fingers stopped stroking your hair. It was an uncomfortable and painful subject he didn't like to talk about, especially with you. The memories of his failed marriage were difficult to process, not only because of Haley's death but also because of the many problems that had plagued their relationship before its sad end.

“Maybe I believed that before, or at least I thought I did.” He replied after a short pause. “But that doesn't mean I want to go through it all again.”

“Even with me?” You asked softly, lifting your head to look into his eyes. There was a hint of vulnerability and sadness in your expression, your heart trembling slightly in anticipation of his answer. “Even in the future?”

Aaron observed your expression and the slight shift in your demeanor. He was aware of the impact his words could have on you, and he took care to choose them carefully. He gently traced your features with the back of his hand, his thumb gently moving across your face.

“This isn't about you or time at all.” He said in a soft voice, trying to express his love for you. “I just couldn't go through that again. The expectations, the disappointment, the divorce. It's too much.”

As he spoke, he paused and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to contain his emotions. His previous marriage had left him deeply scarred, and the thought of suffering the same fate again, especially with you, filled him with dread. He silently prayed every day that history would never repeat itself.

But your situation was quite different. The concerns he expressed, which he did not fully explain, only served to increase your doubts. You were aware that Aaron had every reason to be fearful after experiencing so much in the past, but you were surprised that he seemed to be afraid to be with you in front of the law.

How could he be so sure that a marriage with you would end in divorce? If his demanding job could no longer be the cause of the failure, could it perhaps be something else? Could it be you?

“You're not the same as before, and I'm not-” You started to say when you were interrupted by a loud whistle.

The unexpected sound of the kettle whistling gently interrupts the moment between the two, if only for a brief moment, allowing you both to take a breath.

He carefully put out the fire and poured the steaming water into the cups he had thoughtfully prepared earlier. He then added a teaspoon of sugar to each and a little milk to yours, taking care to ensure it was just the way you liked it. As you both watched the hot liquid swirl in the cups, he let out a sigh. Aaron felt a sense of responsibility, knowing he wasn't able to deliver what you desired.

Hotchner handed you your cup with care, ensuring that he did not accidentally burn himself in the process. The kitchen fell silent as he stood next to you while you both sipped your coffee, lost in your own thoughts.

The taste of coffee with a little milk on your tongue distracted you from the heavy atmosphere that had settled between you and him in the kitchen. In that moment, you took the opportunity to watch him closely and try to decipher what he was thinking. Maybe use a little of what you had learned from being with a profiler for so long.

His face was set, and you could easily see the emotion in his eyes. He was not happy with the conversation, and his expression had given him away from the first crossword on the subject.

When Aaron noticed you staring at him in the midst of his silence, he looked up into your eyes and held them for a few seconds. He knew exactly what you were trying to do, but it didn't bother him. Being a profiler, he found it ironic, and a small smile appeared on his lips.

“You can look at me all you want.” He said with a dry laugh. “And try to profile me if you want.”

“It's not that...” You began to say, but you knew he was right. That was precisely what you were attempting to do, trying to discern his feelings, even utilizing some profiling techniques he had taught you himself. You let out a small sigh, feeling a little foolish for your lack of subtlety.

Of course he'd realize. The man could leave the FBI, but the FBI couldn't leave the man.

“I find it challenging not to.” You confessed, tilting your head and taking a sip of your coffee. “I've picked up on some of your habits, I suppose.”

He let out a soft chuckle, acknowledging that you were trying to get a read on him and feeling relieved to see the earlier tension ease. He lifted the cup to his lips and took a small sip, letting the hot liquid warm his insides before speaking in a friendly tone.

“And what have I taught you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“A few things.” You replied, with a hint of sarcasm. “Like how to spot lies, read body language, and how to read people well. Basically, all the skills required to be a profiler, except how to not profile your loved one.”

“I see your point.” He replied, a soft smile on his face, grateful that things between you were feeling good again. “Perhaps I should have taught you that last part too, but you would have made a good profiler.”

“I would have made a good wife too.” The comment came out before you could stop yourself, and you immediately covered your mouth with your fingers after saying it.

Aaron's smile faded as soon as you spoke, and the tension in the room intensified. He exhaled, a combination of fatigue and frustration, and placed the half-finished coffee on the counter behind you before crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I'm sorry.” You spoke up before he could even open his mouth, hoping to get a word in first.

“Don't.” His answer came almost automatically.

It was then that you grabbed your cell phone after hearing it vibrate, hoping to avoid the situation. “It's the seamstress. Jack's costume is ready.”

He nodded silently as you picked up the cell phone from the kitchen table. The comment was still in the air, and you sensed that he had heard it, but he didn't react at all. Instead, he seemed relieved that the awkward moment between the two was over, if only temporarily.

Thank you, Halloween.

After a brief pause, Aaron inquired gently. “Would you like me to accompany you to collect it?”

“I believe it would be best if I went alone.” You replied after a moment. “I need to take some time to process things, and you need to wait for your son. He will be out of school soon.”

Aaron felt a slight discomfort in his chest at your words. He recognized the truth in what you said, that some time apart might be beneficial for both of you to reflect on the conversation and all that was left unsaid.

And after that, you proceeded to retrieve your keys and walked through the door without so much as a moment's hesitation. This time, there wasn't even an ‘I love you’ or a goodbye kiss as a reminder that all was well. This time, the silence conveyed a message that was perhaps more profound than any gesture or sweet word.

In the end, the marriage was scarier than any Halloween costume.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #thomas gibson #moontober <3 #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine

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sanjifucker42069 · 1 year ago

Text

OPLA!Sanji x Reader - Blowin'

Word Count: 4.6k

I cut down some of the less, y’know, important stuff (the plot lol)

Warnings: oral sex (m!receiving), fem!reader, awkward first times, awkward af, the reader is a dipshit. I’m ngl this isn’t one of those cute first time fics where virgin!reader is suddenly a sex goddess, you are legitimately an idiot. As usual, written with a plus size!reader in mind.

Sanji finds out you’re a virgin. You suck his dick. Congrats!

Sanji was going to fucking lose it. Out of all the possible scenarios Sanji never once considered Nami would take you out to a bar to pick up guys. He brooded as he nursed his drink, Zoro rolling his eyes at the display. Sanji just growled. Usopp looked between them.

"How about another round? 'Nother milk Lu? Hey Sanji, why don't you come with me? I saw some hot chicks up at the bar."

Sanji just shook his head brooding. He looked to where you stood with Nami, laughing at some guy's jokes. He felt stupid at how jealous he felt.

"Hey, Sanj, man. Nami isn't gonna reciprocate y'know?" Usopp offered lightheartedly. Zoro scoffed from next to him.

"It's not about Nami for once."

---

When Sanji's eyes found you again he saw you alone with the same guy, nursing a drink. Now that Nami was gone he could see the atmosphere had changed, you didn't seem happy like before. He watched as the guy said something and you shrugged halfheartedly. The guy then proceeded to wrap his arm around you. Sanji had known you long enough to see how uncomfortable you looked. Anger flared in his chest. The final straw was seeing the guy trying to tug you out of the booth to leave. You looked so defeated, it hurt. He began stalking his way to your booth.

"C'mon sweetcheeks, let's leave this dump."

"I'm good thanks, I should get back to my friends."

"I already told you bitch, we're going. I didn't spend all this time fucking around to go home empty handed. You're lucky I even stayed once your hot friend left. I'm doing you a favour, so hurry the fuck up."

"No, I really don't want to." You began, the man snarled, grabbing your wrist.

"It wasn't a question. You owe me. I don't go for ugly, but a hole's a hole, and from the back you're probably passable."

You had tears in your eyes from embarrassment. This whole trip was a bad idea. You wish Nami would come back. As the man tugged on your wrist harder you heard that gorgeous voice ring out. You tried to hide your face so Sanji wouldn't see the tears in your eyes. That last thing you wanted was for the crew to think you're weak.

"That's no way to win hearts Sunshine. So uncouth, and frankly, disgusting behaviour."

"Who the fuck are you? How about you mind your own business?"

"And watch such a beautiful lady be treated that way?"

"Beautiful lady my ass. The only thing you can know for sure about girls like this is that their pretty pussy is untouched." The man barked out a laugh causing you to wince. He snaked his other arm to cup your breast over your dress. You saw something flash in Sanji's eyes. "And I know I'm gonna really enjoy these."

You squirmed, before biting the man. He howled in pain, releasing his hold on you. You quickly made your escape, rushing to cling to Usopp and Luffy, crying. You felt pathetic. Embarrassed that all eyes were on you.

Sanji saw red. You blinked back tears as you called out to him. Sanji was protective of all of you, but he seemed especially so of you. You knew it was because he saw you as some kind of little sister. "It's okay Sanji. Really, let's just go home. Please."

"No." He fixed the drunk man with a freezing gaze. "You dare touch someone so out of your league? I asked you nicely to piss off, but now I'm going to fucking kill you."

Before you could react Sanji had kicked the man in the chest. You watched as he began ruthlessly kicking and stomping the man, muttering profanities and sentences you couldn't understand. With a final stomp he huffed. Zoro finally pried Sanji away. You saw Nami returning, fuming. If you weren't so traumatised by the night you would have laughed at how Zoro pried Nami away too, holding the two brawlers by the scruff as they fought against it, looking like wet cats.

You don't remember how you got home. You remember Usopp covering you in his coat and dragging you out of the bar. You remember apologising to Usopp, crying that you needed to go back. The last thing you remember was Luffy running to join you, scooping you up and starting the walk back to the Going Merry, you, falling asleep in his rubbery arms.

---

"Ah my dear, you're finally awake. I made you something to eat."

You smiled tightly at him, thanking him. The way you played with your food tugged at his heartstrings. You looked so mournful. He pulled up a chair, sitting backwards on it, gripping the backrest.

"C'mon lovely, don't make me have to feed you myself." He winked. Your lips twitched upwards performatively. Sanji frowned. "Look (name) about last night-"

"I'm sorry."

Confusion. "What?"

You cringed inward. "I'm....I'm sorry I ruined everyone's night."

"You didn't ruin anyone's night, that good for nothing prick did. Don't understand why you'd even go for a guy like that to be honest." He added bitterly. You frowned.

"I wouldn't normally. Everything moved so fast. He seemed nice...It was too late before I realised it's because he wanted Nami." Silence. "Once Nami left, I, well, I didn't want to cause a scene."

"So, what? You were just going to let him take advantage of you?"

You jolted, shocked. "No! No, I- there was no way he was going to-”

“(Name), love, I know you can be a bit naive but-”

Your voice was small. “He said so himself! He..." you trailed off. "He didn't 'go for ugly girls'. And besides…he was right."

Sanji frowned, angry at the world. How could anyone make you believe that you weren't beautiful? That you didn't deserve some guy trying to take advantage of you? He took a deep breath, steadying his resolve

“There's no such thing as an ugly girl (name), and if there was, I can assure you you're not one of them.”

“Not that.” Sanji took in how you winced, trying to make yourself seem smaller.

What?

Sanji felt the wind knocked out of him.

You're a virgin?" He asked, clearly shocked. You bristled with embarrassment.

"Well...yeah, but I understand how it works! It's not such a big deal, I mean...I've just, I've never had the chance."

"Have you ever...y'know, at all? Not even a handy?" You shook your head. He flushed, you were completely pure.

He felt slightly sick at how his perverted thoughts twisted that. He could be your first, ruin you for all other partners. He could be the one to take your innocence. His cock twitched at the thought. Shame flooded him. You were his friend, his, admittedly, very cute friend. He shouldn't be thinking about you this way. His mind was racing with all the obscene thoughts he'd ever had, the deviant things he dreamed of. He was disgusting. You were too innocent, he'd felt guilty before, but now he felt like he was defiling you just by thinking about you.

You took his silence as pity and pointedly looked away from him, taking a deep breath.

"It's not like I don't want to. I do. But, ugh, it's so silly...no one has ever shown any interest. I'm not exactly a goddess like Nami."

"Darling, I don't believe no one has ever shown interest." He offered a smile. Gods if you only knew how badly he ached for you. How hard you made him. Now wasn't the time for him to blow your friendship over him thinking with his dick. You were being vulnerable.

"I don't need your pity Sanji. It's okay. You don't have to give me the 'everyone's beautiful in their own way' speech. There's more to me than my lack of experience! I'm a good fighter! I have talents, I don't need to be pretty. Just, sometimes, it'd be nice.".

This wouldn't do. He had to try to fix this. He took your small hands in his, trying not to lose his breath at how warm they felt. Swinging them lightly, he stared into your eyes.

“You are a beautiful girl, you deserve way better than some kind of bastard like that. Men are pigs (name), you shouldn't trust any of them."

"I trust you."

Sanji froze. You peaked up at him shyly. He looked conflicted, and that caused you to smile sadly, misinterpreting the look. You withdrew your hands, fiddling with them in your lap. "I didn't mean that you should take one for the team Ji, I just meant that, well, I trust you. I don't think you're a pig."

"You shouldn't trust me." He lowered his voice. You stared at him, clearly taken aback. "I'm just as bad."

"No, you-"

"No. I'm an absolute pig darling. You aren't that dense surely."

You frowned. "Sure you flirt a lot with other girls, but that's just you! It's charming, non-threatening. I don't see you acting like-"

"I flirt with you too!" He tried, clearly exasperated. You smiled.

"Exactly! You make cute comments to me, and call me cute things like darling, but you're just naturally flirty."

Sanji groaned. Your smile slowly faltered. Sanji screwed his eyes shut. "I'm not 'just naturally flirty'...I mean, I am, I suppose, but I'm actually trying to flirt with you. I thought you were just being polite, but are you really that dense?"

"I....you are?"

"Are you kidding me?!"

"But, I'm..." You gestured to yourself. "You're more friendly than flirty to me?"

"You're too innocent, it's not like I could just waltz right up and tell you that I think you're hot, can I?" He bristled.

You felt electricity surge down your spine. Hot? Sanji thought you were hot? Sanji?

Sanji took your silence as disgust. "See! That's exactly why I couldn't tell you."

"You think I'm hot?" He nodded. Your grin spread, hurting your blushing cheeks. Your eyes sparkling. "You think I'M hot?!"

"Yes, okay!" He sounded almost angry.

"Sanji, you're gorgeous! I'm too awkward. Too fat. Too plain. I'm not a model or some kind of beauty. And you're telling me someone as handsome as you, thinks I'm attractive!? And I-"

You stopped, really thinking about what he said. "Innocent? I....well I suppose. I'm not that innocent though."

Sanji's nostrils flared. "Not that innocent? Please love! You prance around in those low-cut tops and shorts in front of everyone, thinking that they ain't gonna go ballistic? You're too trusting of men, thinking that we aren't all beasts inside."

You laughed, still riding the high of his praise. Sanji snarled, banging his fist on the kitchen table. "No! It's true. You think someone doesn't see the way your tits look and salivate? You don't think you would make anyone insane? You don't think I got so fucking hard when you told me you're a virgin?"

He froze, blood turning to ice, clearly regretting blurting out that last bit. You stared at him, eyes round with wonder. He avoided your gaze, cringing at what you said next.

"I...I make you hard?".

"I'm sorry (name), that was very ungentlemanly of me. I didn't mean to say that last part."

"But you did." He felt warm hands prying his open and playing with his fingers. He flitted his eyes up to see your face red, staring at him with your eyes practically sparkling with mirth. "God, I've wanted you to fuck me for ages, and now you're telling me you've actually wanted to this whole time?"

Sanji stiffened, cock twitching. He ached painfully. He felt parched, throat burning. This had to be a joke. "You...what?"

"Yeah. Fuck. I, mean, the clothing was purposeful at first, I wanted you to notice me. I had no idea it was working though, haha!"

"WHAT!?"

"Yeah, I thought you knew? You never noticed I only wore those kinds of clothes when you were around? You never noticed how I tried to cling to you in the kitchen? I just assumed you knew and thought I was gross, so I pulled back." You laughed. "Did you seriously think that because I'm a virgin I can't think sexually?"

"But you've never-"

"You've never said anything raunchy to me like you do to other girls. I thought you saw me as a little sister. It'd be weird if someone you saw like family told you they want to suck your dick."

"Fuck." He hissed.

"Oh this is too good! Have I been torturing you?" You laughed, running a hand up his arm. "You must be so frustrated."

"You have no idea."

"I could help you."

Sanji groaned. "You can't say things like that."

"Oh." You pulled back, back to being timid. Even if it was at his expense, Sanji felt the loss of your confident persona. Fuck he really was a masochist, wasn't he? "I, um, I'd need you to guide me. But if you did want help, I'd like to be the one."

"God, you have no idea what you're doing to me." He heard you giggle lightly. He opened his eyes to see you biting your lip, staring up at him through thick lashes, a blush adorning your chubby cheeks. He throbbed.

"You could show me? I promise I'll be gentle! Please Sanji? Can I pretty please touch your dick?"

Sanji felt like he was going to explode from how cute you were.

"Fuck. Please."

You squealed in excitement, jumping up from the table, both his arms in hand. He wanted to laugh at how innocent you looked, but instead he felt a lump in his throat. You didn't notice, pulling the seated man into an awkward, crushing hug.

"C'mon! C'mon what are you waiting for? Let's go!"

"Go where?" He laughed at your eagerness. "In case you haven't noticed darling, we aren't exactly alone."

The way you deflated was comical. What wasn't was the wicked glint that formed in your eyes. Sanji gulped, that was never a good sign. He watched as you quickly dashed out of the kitchen. Sanji looked around, confused. Minutes passed. He got up from the table, moving over to the kitchen island, hiding his lower half behind the counter, lest one of the crew wandered in. He sighed, willing his boner away.

Bang!

The door flew open. Sanji jumped. There you stood frantically in the doorway. Your hair a mess, breathing heavy, and that wicked glint set on him. He watched as you closed the kitchen door, taking a chair and boarding the door. You grinned, stalking towards him.

No. There's no way.

"We aren't going to be disturbed." You were practically vibrating in excitement.

"What? No. Not in the kitchen. We. Eat. Here." Sanji hissed. You peeked up at him, lip pouting.

"Please? I'll make sure there's no mess left." You pleaded.

No mess? Sanji closed his eyes and groaned when he realised what you meant. You were going to be the death of him. When he opened his eyes you were in front of him, staring at him shyly. He startled.

"Can I kiss you? Or is that too far?"

Too far? He wanted to cry. You really had no idea what you were doing to him. He bent down. You grinned. He wrapped an arm around the back of your head, pulling you closer. You tipped your head up. He smiled softly before placing his lips on top of yours.

Your lips locked together like the last piece of a puzzle. You sighed, eyes flitting closed. You pushed further against him, trying desperately to pull him closer. He tasted like cigarettes but you didn't mind, an addictive taste for an addictive man. You wanted more of him. You kissed him feverishly, reluctantly pulling back for air. You stared at the taller man through lidded eyes. He gazed down at you lovingly, a blush high on his cheeks. His blue eyes studied your face closely.

Sanji laughed as with both hands you pulled his face back for another kiss. His skin was hot, your hands now cold against his cheeks. You tasted sweet and he wanted to devour you so badly. You were too cute. He felt you pull him closer to you. You were kissing and sucking at his lips before you felt it. Sanji bit back a groan, feeling your hips brush against him. He felt pure embarrassment as he heard your breath hitch, pulling away. He opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by a groan as you experimentally pushed your hips against him harder.

"Oh my gods." He heard you whisper against him. He froze. "Oh my gods it's so-"

"We can stop if it's too much dar-LING!"

He squeaked as he felt both your hands rake down his chest, you humming contently as you kept yourself pressed against him. He felt overwhelmed at how eager you were. He'd never had someone so upfront in wanting to touch him. His cocked throbbed. You mewled lightly, causing another throb.

"Oh my god it moves?" You giggled. He cracked a smile back. You were so innocent.

Sanji had made one crucial mistake though. That was thinking that just because you were inexperienced, that meant you would be submissive. He felt you cage him against the countertop, the wood digging into his ass, your hands on him. It wasn't that he didn't like it, the dissonance was making him dizzy. He felt your hands find purchase on his waist. You breathed out a dreamy sigh.

"God your waist is so fucking tiny."

Sanji bristled with embarrassment. He tried to address it without upsetting you. "Love, that's not exactly what I want to hear."

You giggled. "I can't help it, it's so hot. You could kick my ass if you wanted, but holy fuck you're just letting me feel you up. Gods I've seen you fight, I've seen how thick your legs are, but fuck your waist is so little."

Sanji hissed. He'd never experienced anything like this before. Your hands migrated upwards, resting on his pecs. Your slow pace was driving him insane.

"Can I?" You gestured to his shirt.

"Fuck, love, I'd love to, but maybe when we have somewhere more private okay? Don't want to be too unclothed if someone tries to come in. Same with you okay? Don't want anyone to see something so gorgeous." He smiled at you. You nodded your head, practically buzzing at the idea of this happening again. He winked at you. "You could take off something else though."

Sanji was shocked and delighted at how quickly you dropped to your knees. You began playing with his belt, figuring out how the clasp worked. Sanji scrunched his eyes shut. Fuck, you were so eager! He never would’ve expected it to go like this. Despite your eagerness you were so gentle, as if you were afraid of touching him. He was going to prompt you, but instead you softly pulled his zipper down and began drawing the fabric down till it sat mid thigh.

Oh, fuck. There he was, huh?

You looked at his clothed cock, studying It like it was some kind of strange bug. You wanted to laugh at the comparison. Above you Sanji was flushed, embarrassed by your staring. You ran a finger over the bulge. He hissed, his dick jumping lightly. You couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out of your throat.

"What?"

"It's so cute the way it jumps."

"Maybe this was a mistake."

"No no no! I promise I'll be good. Can I, um... do I?"

"Just...hah...do what you think is right. I'll...correct you."

Sanji let out an undignified squeak as he felt you lightly grab the clothed bulge. You massaged it, feeling what you could, watching with curiosity how the man above you writhed. Exploratively, you moved your hand further back, cupping his balls through the fabric. The friction of the fabric against bare skin was pure torture.

"Oh shit!" Sanji whined. You withdraw your hand like it burnt. "That's, god, that's really sensitive okay? You're killing me sweetheart."

"Sorry." You mumbled, placing a kiss to his bare thigh. The "strange bug" jumped again. You began peppering more kisses to his thigh. Once you reached the inside of his thigh you breathed deeply, he smelt musky, it made your mouth water. Experimentally, you licked the inside of his thigh. Sanji's thigh tensed. You licked upwards in long stripes until you reached the leg of his underwear. You gave a quick moment of hesitation before you blew air over the bulge. Sanji hissed. Smiling, you placed a kiss directly over the top of his bulge.

"Did you just kiss my dick?"

"Mmhmm. Watch, I'll do it again." You placed an open mouth wet kiss over Sanji's clothed cock. The man above you threw his head back, whining softly. The fabric was dampened with a mix of your spit and something else. You saw how taut the fabric had become. You cooed. "That looks like it hurts."

Sanji nodded. You looked up at him.

"Can I take them off?"

He shuddered. "Fuck. Please (name)."

With curiosity you began dragging the wet underwear down his hips, settling them at his mid thigh. His musky scent overpowered you, and you watched with fascination as Sanji's cock slapped against his stomach. Looking up at him you saw how tight his eyes were scrunched, knuckles gripping the countertop. You noticed how he shivered lightly at the exposure. Sanji's cock stood, large, imposing, and leaking. You breathed out a curse. It looked gorgeous, just like him, long and lithe. His happy trail led to a neat little patch of dark hair. You salivated. Eyes drawing to your prize, you winced at how red and angry the head looked.

Sanji thought he was going to kill you when he felt you tap his cockhead like a microphone. Instead he bucked his hips away, humiliation colouring his face. "Stop that! I know you don't know what you're doing, but please use your brain dearest."

You mumbled an apology before rubbing your hands together, trying to warm them. He watched as you wrapped a hand around his dick before moaning lowly. You studied him, absolutely enraptured, as you gave a test pump. The man above you crumbled.

"Do you always get this way?"

"No." He panted.

"Just for me?" You tried sultry, trying to muster up some quote from a smutty novel you once read. Sanji peeked one eye open before groaning.

"No." His voice was strained, breathing heavy. You tried pumping him, but the rhythm was sloppy. "N-no. You're...it's a lot right now. I'm not used to it being this slow…or clumsy."

"Do you like it?" You looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Unfortunately." He muttered. With a burst of pride you tried pumping him harder. Sanji squealed, grabbing your hand. "Fuck (name), I really need you to spit in your hand. Th-that's painful."

"Oh...sorry." You offered. Sanji watched as you perversely spit in your hand, wrapping the digits back around his cock. You tried setting a rhythm, it was sloppy, but you focused on giving him consistent squeezing pressure. Sanji moaned lowly at the squeezing, hips rocking.

Soon you reached a steady rhythm. You watched with bated breath before you slowed down. Sanji began to whine from the loss, only to keen loudly as he felt your lips enclose his cockhead. He began spluttering, eyes rolled backwards. He'd take anything right now, fuck he wanted to cum so bad. He sucked in a breath.

"No teeth, okay love?"

You laughed, the vibrations tickling him in the best way. He moaned, trying desperately to not fuck your face. His eyes were so tightly scrunched.

You slowly forced yourself further down his length, squeezing the base. Sanji swore. You froze, taking a deep breath through your nose. When he didn't stop you, you continued your devotion.

"Ack!" You choked, throat burning. You felt Sanji's hand patting your head. You retreated off him, coughing.

"Darling don't take more than you can okay. We don't want you to choke now."

You gazed up at him, eyes wet and throat hoarse. "Let me try again!"

Your raspy voice made Sanji quiver, but the way you looked up at him, absolutely wrecked, made him burn. As quickly as he noticed it, it ended, and you unceremoniously inhaled his cock. He could feel you try to smile.

"Fuck!" His voice was high as you sucked hard, adding your tongue to flatten against the underside of his cock. "(Name)! Baby, fuck, I-"

"Hey why won't the door open?" Zoro's voice rang through the wood. Sanji stilled, holding your head. The two of you looked at each other frozen. Sanji tried clearing his throat.

"If you keep making noise out there, I'm gonna explode, Mosshead!"

You snorted, trying hard to not laugh. 'Yeah you're gonna explode,' you inwardly snickered.

"Whatever shitty waiter."

Silence. Sanji looked down at you. "Darling, maybe we should stop. It's okay, we can try again another day." He froze at the frustrated look that overtook your features. "Fuck." He whispered.

You sucked harshly causing Sanji to bite his hand hard to avoid screaming. He felt you try swallowing, watched as tears pricked your eyes. You didn't slow down on your work, sucking harshly and hands wandering. You grabbed a fistful of his asscheek, other hand tracing circles on his inner thigh. You felt him tensing, quivering. His hand reached for your neck, trying to coax you off. He was so close.

"Oh god!" Sanji gasped. "Baby I'm gonna cum, you need to hop off-AH!"

You sucked harder, milking the man through his orgasm. It was like music the way he spluttered and grabbed the back of your head, nails scratching your scalp. You felt hot, thick liquid painting your throat. It wasn't pleasant, but fuck his reactions were. Some dribbled out of the corner of your mouth and Sanji wiped it away with a thumb, a fucked out expression on his features. He pulled his softened cock out of your mouth, and watched, breathless as you swallowed his seed. You made a grimace afterwards causing the man to laugh.

"Was it okay?" You asked, shyness taking over you.

"You're lucky I don't mind a bit of torture. It was good for a first try." He gave you that flirty grin and a wink. "I think you need more practice though."

You laughed, outstretching a hand so he could help you up. You tried stretching your legs, noting the numb pain in your knees. You wrapped your arms around his middle. "Was I that bad?"

Sanji pulled his underwear and pants back up, zipping his pants closed. He pulled you closer. "Nah, you're just something else entirely. Silly." Kiss. "Torturous." Kiss. "And I am smitten with you."

"We've wasted enough time, better get back to it." You smiled against his lips.

"I'd love to pay you back."

"Later loverboy, we're gonna have the whole crew in here soon if we don't hurry."

"I'm so glad there's a later."

You winked, straightening your clothes and heading for the door. You stopped, turning to stare at the man.

"For you baby? Always. Oh, can you make souffle?"

"What? Why?"

"I told the guys we were making a souffle and needed the kitchen completely silent."

Sanji laughed. You definitely kept him on his toes.

-----------

I'm not going to lie, some of this is coloured by my first time hahaha! I am an incredibly awkward person, and yes I did also once tell a guy how cute I thought it was when dicks jump. He also told me I was fucked for that ha!

#sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #opla x reader #one piece x reader #smut #one piece smut #vinsmoke sanji x reader #bro i HATE calling him vinsmoke #i couldnt help myself so i formatted it for tumblr....#this was like one of the first sanji things i ever wrote......#other than like this sex pollen fic that i also never posted lmao #:)))) anyway..........#i love virgin fics as much as the next guy.....but if it was anything like my first time giving a bj.....its so not glamorous lol #tmi af: i mean.....dont get me wrong ive technically never had p in v i have bad vaginismus but girl.......

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reidsaurora · 5 months ago

Note

Your event is so cute!!! Could I get a sun kissed Malibu dream house with Aaron?? 🥹 in need of some fluff with him hehe

i am so so sorry this took me so long to write! writer's block these past few months has been kicking my butt. but, thanks to my awesome betas, i think i wrote something you'll like! hope you enjoy!

"Summer Lovin" ~ A. Hotchner

Summary: As the start of summer arrives, you and your friends at the BAU find yourselves feeling a bit reminiscent of the summers before. Along with that reminiscence, you start to miss the days when you and Aaron had little babies instead of big kids…

Pairing: Dad!Aaron Hotchner x Mom!Reader

Word Count: 2,019

Content Warning: lots of talk of babies/pregnancy, sexual humor, kind of fade to black smut if you read between the lines lol, small mention of food, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i'm so sorry this took so long, i had a very hard time writing this and def meant to post it sooner. however, in the spirit of my city being under a heat advisory today, this feels appropriate to post 😂

Originally Written: 06/04/2024 through 06/25/2024

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold and @virtual-vivi 🫶🏻🩷

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Summer Celebration info can be found here!

Sun Kissed - fluff requests

Malibu Dream House - domestic!au

Aaron tossed off the blanket, letting out a small sigh of relief. “When did it get so hot?” he grumbled, his morning voice prominent. As he rolled over to his back, you spotted a big wet spot on the front of his tee shirt from just how much he was sweating.

Still, you scooted closer to him anyway and tossed an arm over his abdomen, his familiar scent filling your senses. “News said there’d be an excessive heat wave today.”

“It's probably ninety degrees already,” he complained, “and it's not even 9:00 yet.”

Rolling onto your side to face him, you left a trail of kisses along his jawline. “Hey, Mr. Grumpy Gills,” you giggled, referencing one of your kids’ favorite movies. “When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?”

“It's sweltering! How in the world could you possibly want to cuddle right now?” Aaron ignored your attempt to brighten the mood, instead opting to toss a pillow over his head and groan into it.

You just pulled the pillow away and left another peck on his jaw. “Because I love you. And because our children are gonna come in here any minute to take you away from me.”

He noticed the small pout that followed your statement, the expression enough to soften even Aaron Hotchner, king of stoicism, up. “Alright, fine. I'll allow it. But only because you drive a hard bargain.”

Your pout was replaced with a smirk as you snuggled closer into his side. “Mmm, that means a lot, coming from an ex-prosecutor. Maybe I should've gone to law school with you.”

“You're too sensitive for the big house, or whatever they say,” Aaron snickered. After noticing your look of offense, he quickly covered with, “I didn't mean it in a bad way. You have feelings. It's a very nice thing to come home to after dealing with emotionless psychopaths all day.”

“I think you're trying to compliment me. I'll take it.”

His lips met yours for a quick peck before saying, “I have nothing but compliments for you, my love,” Then, he met you with a second, much longer kiss, and while he tasted like morning breath, moments like this were so rare that you were willing to look past it.

One of his large hands met your leg, his calloused fingertips trailing along your bare skin. It felt like a lifetime since you'd been like this, with two children always needing your attention and the FBI always needing Aaron's. Just a simple touch of his fingers had you forgetting about the outside world, if even for just a moment.

Your lips met his neck, his stubble scratchy against your skin. He'd been away on a case in Seattle for about a week, and you were certain he hadn't shaved the whole trip. You liked it that way anyway.

His hand traveled further up under your nightgown, settling on your thigh. He squeezed the supple skin, a gesture of both affection and want.

“Are you trying to go for number three?” you joked before kissing his neck once more.

“Believe me,” Aaron chuckled, “if I knew I had enough time, I'd certainly try.”

As if on cue, four scurrying feet came stamping across the hardwood floor into your bedroom. “Good morning, Daddy!” both of your children yelled in sync, climbing onto the edge of the bed.

“That's why you're not allowed a third,” you mumbled into his ear. “The ones you have don't even appreciate me.”

“They love you, I promise,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. To the kids, he said, “Good morning. Don't you have anything else you want to say?”

They both turned to you, sheepish looks coming across their tiny, adorable faces. “Good morning, Mommy.”

“That's better,” Aaron said, gaining him a snicker from you. “Now, may I ask why the two of you are up so early and you're already in your swimsuits?”

It was then that you realized he was right. Jack, the older of your children, was sporting his favorite Spiderman swim trunks, while his little sister, Libby, had managed to dress herself in a cherry-print swimsuit she hadn't quite grown into yet. They made your heart melt.

“Daddy,” Libby sighed, clearly exasperated with her father, “don't you know what day it is?”

It happened to be the day your kids hadn't stopped talking about for weeks: the beginning-of-summer pool party you and Aaron threw every year for your friends and his coworkers at the BAU.

Aaron tapped a finger against his chin, his brows furrowing as he thought. “Let's see… it's not Libby’s birthday, and it's not Jack’s birthday, it's not my birthday, and I don't think it's your mom’s birthday,” his last comment earned him a sarcastic look from you. “Hmm, what day could it be?”

You joined in on his little game, tapping against your chin as you pretended to think. “Perhaps it's Christmas?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at you. “It's too early in the year for Christmas,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You're right.” As you continued tapping your finger, you shot Aaron a knowing look, which he gladly returned. He could tell by the gleam in your eye exactly what you meant with that look. “Is it…”

Each of you grabbed a kid, tickling and eliciting little squeals and giggles. “Pool party day?!” the two of you shouted in sync.

Libby thrashed around in your arms, laughing and squirming, while Jack attempted to escape his father's arms. Moments like these were almost as rare as the ones with just you and Aaron, so you had to take advantage of them while you could.

“It's pool party day!” Libby squeaked, while Jack was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe.

Their smiles and laughs pulled at your heartstrings. You wondered when the universe decided to make your babies grow up, since it seemed like only yesterday when you had a newborn and a two-year-old.

Bringing yourself out of your nostalgic trance, you pulled yourself out of the bed, grabbing each kid by the hand. “Who wants to make pancakes while Daddy’s in the shower?”

—

Soon enough, all your friends had arrived and it felt like summer had too. Penelope and Spencer were currently entertaining all the kids, while the other men were crowded around the grill and the rest of the ladies were sitting poolside and working on their tans.

“You ever wonder if either of them will have kids?” JJ asked, nodding toward Penelope and Spencer.

“Spencer, a hundred percent,” Emily answered, like her statement was a fact. “Penelope, I'm not so sure.”

You were next to jump into the conversation, not even bothering to look up from your magazine. “Why do you ask, Jen?”

JJ let out a longing sigh. “It's been so long since we've had a baby around here.”

Putting the magazine down, you looked over to her, eyebrows creased. “Henry's only three. It hasn't been that long.”

“You don't miss having a baby at our get-togethers? Emily, where do you stand?”

“Don’t look at me,” Emily said with wide eyes. “If I didn't have to change another diaper for a lifetime, it still wouldn't be long enough.” She was the one person in the group that was rather indifferent to children, but babies, she'd rather not talk about or be around.

“Yeah, babies are nice,” you said, “but the pregnancy part? That's what I'd rather go a lifetime without.”

“Well, I'm sure there's one thing we can all agree on,” JJ snickered. “At least making the baby is fun.”

Emily tossed the pillow behind her back in the direction of her coworker, giggling all the while. “Jennifer!”

“What?” she laughed as she swatted the pillow away. “Am I wrong?”

You let out a small snicker yourself, shooting a glance in the direction of your husband, who was currently taking his turn in manning the grill.

Neither of your friends missed that look, both their mouths falling agape at the expression. “Spill!” they squealed in sync.

Penelope made her way over from the edge of the pool, her face overtaken by the brightest smile known to mankind. “I heard the ‘Someone has beans to spill’ variety of squeals and giggles. What am I missing?”

“Nothing,” you insisted with an eye roll.

Emily patted the edge of her chaise, welcoming Penelope over. “Come sit, we're gonna get it out of her. After all, two out of three of us are profilers.”

Your eyes narrowed at the brunette. “Do you forget that I also used to be a profiler before my kids came along?”

“Stop changing the subject,” Penelope said with a swat of her hand. “Spill your guts. What did I miss?”

“Well, we were talking about how it's been so long since anyone on the team, past or present, has had a kid,” Jennifer explained.

“And someone looked at her husband with that look,” Emily further explained.

You scoffed. “It was not that look.”

“It totally was,” your friends spoke in sync.

Penelope's face lit up like a child in a candy store, her mind clearly running rampant with ideas of what the look meant. “Oh my God, are you-”

“No!” you quickly interrupted, knowing exactly where that question was headed. “Not yet anyway,” you mumbled under your breath.

The three of them practically jumped out of their seats and gathered around you, all screams and smiles.

“We haven't even had the conversation yet!”

“But you're going to!” Penelope insisted.

You rolled your eyes, but internally, you couldn't be happier for the gift of friendship from these three women. Jennifer, the mom friend in more ways than one. Emily, the voice of reason who not-so-secretly had a funny side and always knew how to make you laugh. And Penelope, the perfect shoulder to cry on and perfect soul to confide in. Lucky didn't even begin to describe how you felt about knowing these women.

Suddenly, you found yourself— as Penelope had said— spilling your guts. “I don't know. This morning just felt… different. Like, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have another baby around.”

The three of them flooded you with comments of love and support, hugs wrapping around you from each direction. Having another baby would be different, of course, but your friends were making sure that you knew it would be a good kind of different.

“I still have to get Aaron on board, so no one get too excited,” you reminded them.

JJ was already way ahead of you. “We've got the kids, Rossi and Derek have the grill. Don't worry about anything out here. You and your man deserve a moment of free time.”

“Just so we're clear,” you said, pointing a finger as if to further prove your point, “we are just going to talk. No funny business.”

Emily snickered. “Yeah, the same way you guys used to ‘talk’ on the jet?” Your cheeks heated to a bright red shade at her comment.

“Ew, Hotch is in the mile high club?!” Penelope practically screamed. Luckily, everyone else seemed too engrossed in conversation to hear her, but you were still mortified nonetheless.

“Okay, scratch what I said. I'm actually going inside to give myself a lobotomy.”

And with that, your friends were shouting in sync different variations of “Have fun!”

Then, with a smile on your face from both the joy of friendship and the love you had for your husband, you found yourself heading over to the grill and pulling Aaron away. His reaction was nothing short of laughter as you practically dragged him toward the house, his shirt nearly coming off with how hard you were tugging it.

Lips met skin as you closed the back door behind you. Aaron let out another chuckle, though he surely wasn't protesting your affection. “Woah, that look in your eyes tells me you're the one thinking about number three,” he commented, referencing your words from that morning.

“Well,” you said as your fingers started to trail under the hem of his dark gray tee shirt. With another kiss to his neck, you continued, “About that…”

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