#THE WOMEN❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[nemesyaaa]

omxzkkwzlkdlzlss kay ??? this is such a creative request and i love it so much, you wrote it so well with such a beautiful way. Even if i'm not a mother, i think it's so good to have works which talk about this, it's.important and i can picture Rafe being exactly like this after you have his kids. he's so sweet. this is why i love to see him as a dad and you did such a great job ‼️❤️‍🔥 tysm for tagging me

it was an understatement to say you were insecure about yourself after having your kids. your hips were wider, your stomach wasn’t perfectly flat, your boobs had gotten so big and never perked back up… and let’s not even get started on how you felt about your vagina after pushing two kids out of it. — :((( it makes me so sad that some women think like that after being pregnant :(,

“stop… you haven’t been in the mood since you had carson,” he pauses, pulling you back just enough to look down into your eyes. he swipes away a tear as it silently falls down your cheek, “you’re fucking beautiful. you gave me the two greatest things in this world. you know that?” — he's the best, i'm gonna give him everything . Not only kids, a fucking heirs and new DNA 😙😙

“this pussy… will always be fucking beautiful. it’s even more fucking perfect since you had grace and carson.” — awwwww, i'm melting

rafe blows out a breath, slowly pulling his fingers from inside you and lowering his face down to your pussy. your breath hitches in your throat when you feel the warmth of his breath against your soaked cunt. you place your hands on the back of his head, lightly scratching at his scalp before tugging on his messy hair. rafe lets out a chuckle, his lips finally making contact with your aching clit. he presses a soft kiss to your clit, his lips moving to your inner thighs, teeth nipping at the plump flesh before he moves back to your pussy. — i need to be sedated. can't believe i'm gonna daydreaming about him forever

Loved the request you did with Rafe having a breastfeeding kink. Could you do a little fic with the same vibe but with readers V? Like he watched his kid come out of there and it's like holy land to him now

i love the idea of him worshipping readers pussy more than he already did. like oh, you watched me push your child out and love it more? HOT.

CW: smut! 18+ only! fem receiving oral, fingering, pussy praise, soft!rafe, mom!reader, dad!rafe.

rafe masterlist | requests

it was an understatement to say you were insecure about yourself after having your kids. your hips were wider, your stomach wasn’t perfectly flat, your boobs had gotten so big and never perked back up… and let’s not even get started on how you felt about your vagina after pushing two kids out of it.

you were insecure. you hated being so insecure about your body, but you were, despite your husband constantly reminding you how beautiful you were every day.

“rafe… i’m just not in the mood..” you whined, trying to pull yourself out of his hold.

rafe tightens his grip around your waist, pulling you further into him, his lips finding your neck, leaving soft kisses against it, his teeth nipping at the flesh as he whispered sweet praises against your skin.

“stop… you haven’t been in the mood since you had carson,” he pauses, pulling you back just enough to look down into your eyes. he swipes away a tear as it silently falls down your cheek, “you’re fucking beautiful. you gave me the two greatest things in this world. you know that?”

you whimper, another tear falling down your cheek. rafe swipes it away with his thumb, lifting you into his arms bridal style and carrying you to your bed. he gently lays you on your back, his hands tugging at your shorts, pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the floor.

he lets out a low, appreciative groan when he sees your glistening cunt, his fingers slowly runing through your slick folds as his thumb put light pressure on your clit.

“this pussy… will always be fucking beautiful. it’s even more fucking perfect since you had grace and carson.”

rafe slowly pushes two fingers inside you, curling them upward and making your back arch off the bed. your hands fly to your breasts, squeezing at them softly as your husband slowly worked his fingers in and out of you.

“r-rafe… please?” you beg, your breathes becoming choppy as rafe continues to slowly fuck you with his fingers.

rafe blows out a breath, slowly pulling his fingers from inside you and lowering his face down to your pussy. your breath hitches in your throat when you feel the warmth of his breath against your soaked cunt. you place your hands on the back of his head, lightly scratching at his scalp before tugging on his messy hair. rafe lets out a chuckle, his lips finally making contact with your aching clit. he presses a soft kiss to your clit, his lips moving to your inner thighs, teeth nipping at the plump flesh before he moves back to your pussy.

his tongue darts out, pressing into your entrance before he runs it through your folds, stopping at your clit. he flicks his tongue against your sensitive bud, pulling the sweetest sounds of pleasure from you as he did. he gathers saliva in his mouth, spitting on your clit, his eyes watching as it drips down your pussy to your ass. he finally leans forward, sucking your clit into his mouth while inserting two fingers inside you again.

your grind your hips, rubbing your pussy against his face as rafe licks and sucks at you like a man starved. his fingers push in and out of you at a quick pace, his head lifting just enough to stare into your eyes as he finger fucks you. “look so goddamn pretty like this… you understand me? you’re fucking perfect, every inch of you is fucking perfect,” he dips his head back down, his tongue working slow circles around your clit as his bright blue eyes burn into yours. he lifts his head again, kissing at your clit as your pussy flutters around his fingers, “i love this pussy. i’ll always love this pussy. you could give me ten more kids, and i’ll never stop loving you or your cunt, do you hear me? i love you.”

with his sweet praises, and the way he worked his fingers in and out of your pussy with his tongue working your clit, you cum around his fingers, crying out to him and letting him know you love him just as much.

tagging some mooties: @starkeysbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @nemesyaaa @rafesheaven @rafescorpsebride @oceandriveab @cherrygirlfriend @rafesbabygirlx @rafescvntyclubgf @sarahsangelicdoll @rafegetinmybed @hauntedfawnn

[jsmainblog]

not alone - spencer reid જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩

requests are always open <3

spencer reid x lonely!reader

summary: reader is a university student and hits up bars as a product of feeling isolated/blown off from their friends. but this time they meet a very peculiar person who they spend the night with

a/n: okay don't judge this i'm not the best at writing smut this could be really bad

warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), p in the v, not overly graphic but its still there yk

❤️‍🔥smut

Here you were again stumbling into another bar. It now seemed like a weekly occurence, which seemed a little sad. I mean if you told someone you end up in a bar at least once a week they'd think you'd have some serious drinking issues, or you were depressed, or both. These vists to bars where mainly fuelled by your friends, they were either busy studying or with their boyfriends, sometimes even leaving days to go back home when college got a bit much. So as you seated yourself at the bar you had the usual expectation of how this night was going to go, a drink and people watching probably and sulking, yeah definitely sulking.

You see the usuals at the bar. A family man slumped over his drink morosely, groups of girlfriends getting drinks and celebrating, asshole men hitting on women, two co workers drinking and laughing. Watching these people made your heart ache a little. How you so desperately wished for a little human connection right now. Any connection would do you wouldn't care, a friend, a stranger, even idle talk with bartender. You even wouldn't mind a little bit of physical connection. Your eyes scan the bar until the landed on him. This guy who sat alone sipping on a drink thoughtfully, he looked meek almost. You could tell he was the kind of guy who'd get bossed around alot by women, especially if they give him a bit of attention. So with a hesitant push to stand up you make your way over to him.

"Hi. You mind if I sit?" you question. You see his face properly for the first time.He was young, shockingly younger than you thought with big round brown eyes and soft pink lips. Why, he's got to be around your age maybe 24? 25?.

"Uh no, no I don't mind, don't mind at all." he stutters. You can see the flustered look on his face obviously indicative that he dosen't get approached alot.

"So whats your name"

"Spencer Reid. I-uhm whats your's?"

"Y/n. So what college do you go to?" you inquire. Maybe this could be your chance to befriend someone to lean on when your friends unsurprisingly blow you off once again.

"College? No I don't go to college, I uhm work for the BAU full time at the FBI." he states. Well that shocked you a bit. This young, lanky looking guy who looked like he couldn't lift anything heavier than a chair was in the FBI? You have got to be joking.

"Don't you have to have a degree for that? And your like what? 24? 25? Degrees take a long time so I'm not understanding how that lines up. Unless your a genius or something."

"I have an iq of 187, an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute" he rambles, but he notices you shoot him a 'get to the point look'. "Yes I am a genius. And to answer your question yes you need a degree, sometimes even a PHD or a B.A."

You look at him baffled, you could've deducted he was smart from his nerd get up but this smart? Wow how were you supposed to keep up?

"Wait so how old are you?" you inquire

"24"

"Oh same" you say which brings a smile to his face. A very sweet handsome smile. Oh my god are you seriously rambling about some genius you met in a bar less then 10 minutes ago?

"So whats you degree in?" You ask

"Well i have multiple degrees. I have 3 PhD's in chemistry, math and engineering and I have two B.A's in psychology and sociology. So I'm assuming you're a uni student whats your degree in? "

"History."

"Oh yeah?" he says intrigued

"Yeah." you echo like a prayer. This Spencer guy was clearly flustering you a tad and massively impressing you.

So it was even more of a shock to the system when you are clumsily unlocking your apartment dorm with his arms wrapped around you from behind sucking on your neck. The two of you still tipsy crash your lips into one anothers as soon as the door closes. You didn't have a lot of time to think but you could tell where this was going. Now Spencer is a attractive genius you met at a bar 2 hours ago, how well is he going to go during sex? The horrifying thought of him being a virgin crosses your mind as well. You wouldn't usually take a chance on a guy like Spencer but you were lonely and now well a little needy. By the time you two are stumbling into your bedroom practically glued to each other you've accepted Spencer may not satisfy you at all. You were kind of okay with that. At least you were with someone and not sulking alone in your room which you usually do at this hour.

You sit back on the beg tugging on his tie signalling for him to come with you.

"Have you had sex before?" you breathe into his lips. He laughs softly. Why was he laughing? Was he nervous? Did he think your ridiculous for asking such a question?

"Yes I have. Why don't think I can satisfy you baby?" The term of endearment flusters you once again. 'I can't believe you are getting so nervous around a guy who probably plays crosswords in his free time' you say mentally scolding yourself.

You spend so much time talking to yourself in your head you don't even notice the lower half of you is naked and he's eating you out like a man starved eliciting little moans from you. Oh so he's good. You were a little annoyed about his awkwardness falsely led you to thinking he would suck. But you were so wrong. You can't even focus on the pleasure he's giving you because your just thinking about him. How.. No, no not perfect he is. Okay well maybe he's a little perfect. No hookup had ever treated you so gently before. His hand's cradled the backs of his thighs tracing little comforting patterns. You had to admit it gave you a little whiplash. Here he was being all gentle and soothing while his head was practically smooshed into the junction of your thighs. Your hand combs through his mousy hair tugging at the strands. No hookup had ever even bothered on foreplay ever, or was so generous. Your general conclusions about hookups is that 80% of the time it was more about them than you. But, it seems Spencer Reid was an anomaly. When you feel the familiar feeling of warmth and tingles wash over you he kisses your legs softly.

"Your being so good for me." he mumbles more to himself then you and you smile at his praise. He positions himself over you ridding himself of his clothes and the rest of yours between kisses.

"Seems like I got you all smiley huh sweetheart" he teases which earns him a nod and he chuckles leaning into give you a gentle kiss. The way he made you feel when he was inside you was like heaven on earth. Not only did he make you feel physically good, but he made you feel good about yourself. Confident, safe, perhaps even a little loved?

"Yeah that's it. Your being so good for me angel. There we go. Feels good huh? Better than you expected?" he murmurs gently. You roll your eyes at his little surge of confidence but nod a little as your hands tangle together.

"You're so beautiful" you blurt starry eyed before whining.

"Thank you, I should be saying that to you, you know but looks like you beat me to it." he laughs. Before you knew it that wave crashed over you again a little harder this time leading to you moaning his name a little louder than you would've liked. His movements sped up, he himself whining and groaning loudly before squeaking. His release leaking into the latex sheath. You were right about one thing he was a little submissive after all. He slowly guides himself out with a soft pop, discarding the now sticky latex and pulling his boxers on. You try to sit up but his hand guides you to gently lay back down.

"Stay there, let me go get something to clean you up angel. It's the least I can do for you." he whispers pressing a kiss to your cheek before wandering off to the bathroom. You lay there and sticky satisfied mess. Without Spencer you felt a little cold and empty, but he made you feel more at ease and safer then you'd ever felt before which astounded you. He comes back with a warm wet cloth wiping down your intimate areas and sweat all while murmuring sweet words of praise and compliments.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" you mumble quietly.

"Yeah if that's okay with you my apartments a little far from here. Just.. if I leave before you wake up I'm sorry but my work's pretty demanding. "

"No thats all good." you say as he pulls you to settle in his arms.

"Thank you" he whispers into your hair.

"For what?"

"For letting me see you like that." you smile at his sickenly sweet sentence. 'Is this guy real?' You think to yourself as you drifted into sleep enveloped by his arms.

The next morning your bed's empty but your not too torn up about it because Spencer warned you the night before. You sigh rubbing your face as you sit up and spot a note on your bedside table.

"Y/n I'm sorry that I had to leave I got called in on a case. I really enjoyed what we did last night and again I want to thank you. In fact, I liked it so much I wanna see you again. Maybe this time with a little more clothes on so we can get to know each other a bit better. Anyways heres my number and I hope we can get coffee or something along those lines its really your choice . But hopefully sometime soon :)" - Spencer

You smile at the note giddily. Maybe this was the start of something great?

[prim-moth]

Some of my faves!

[zepskies]

Omg thank you so much, Liane!!! 🥹💓💓 Pls, you never have to apologize for sharing your thoughts on my writing -- however short or however long. I love it all!!

Still can't say much about Beau, since I still haven't gotten around to watching Big Sky yet (I definitely plan to, especially after your recommendation -- I just don't have Disney+ currently 🥹), except that his was the sexiest imo😮‍💨 Their dynamic is the most sensual.

Oh Beau comes in on the last episode of season 2. I've seen that through season 3, and Sheriff Beau Arlen is an absolute delight. 🥰 But omg I find it so interesting that you actually liked his part the most. I definitely had fun with his part -- and that line in particular. 😏❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Now, for Dean, you always capture his character so perfectly, Alex. ❤️❤️ You hit the nail on the head again! Especially with how he articulates via facial expressions. Those eyebrow wiggles are 100% Dean. I can picture his stupid, pretty grin so vividly and it fits so well here. He's so silly and playful with the reader, it's so cute!!! Feels so domestic and comfy.

That compliment means so much to me, thank you! 🥹🥹 To me, when Dean's comfortable and happy, he's all jokey and grinning and eyebrow waggly loll. That "stupid, pretty grin" right? 😂

Even in non-spicy scenarios, I know for a fact he'd love to rest his head on her thighs, her tummy, her chest, her butt -- she's his favorite pillow fr.

Omg yessss I absolutely love this!! I need to incorporate that thought in the Midnight Espresso-verse for sure. 💗

Also, side note, but a favorite headcanon of mine is Dean having gained a little bit of weight in the later seasons himself. He's not in his early to mid twenties anymore, bodies change, his love for greasy food doesn't. And he absolutely deserves the joy of that pizza followed by three slices of pie (as well as having a partner that matches his appetite, someone after his own heart). Dean with a soft tummy owns my heart and soul.

Oooh you know what, this is so realistic and I've seen writers incorporate this into their AU post-season 15 "fix it" stories especially. I totally agree with that now that you put that idea in my head. 💞

And Ben... Of course he jumps to the wrong conclusion at first. Like, yes, he's obviously self centered, but also: I love that somehow it didn't even occur to him that maybe she's feeling uncomfortable/insecure. As if, well, she's hot to him, so she's hot, end of the story -- that sounds about right. 😭😂 You nailed it, again.

Ahaha YEP, that's pretty much it. And if she doesn't think so? Well, he's got ways of showing her otherwise. 😏

Btw, before I read Ben's part, I literally thought "well, more for him to grab and manhandle, he's gotta put that superhero strength to use somehow" haha! Pretty sure we can all agree that he thinks modern beauty standards are ridiculous.

LOLL that's exactly where my thought process was too! Women of the 40s-50s were actually allowed to have a fuller figure. 💞

Fantastic job on all three of these. Such a nice request and a great exploration of this topic. <3

Thank you again so much. 😭😭 This is why I hang on to requests like this that I know have the power to potentially touch other people the way it struck me. 💗💗

Headcanon: Body Insecurity/Appreciation

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @roseblue373. 💜 It's a special one to me personally, being plus-sized myself and having gone through my share of insecurities. Wish I had one of these guys to make it better lol!~

Prompt/Request: Great job with the latest Dean/Beau/Ben reacts vignettes! I'd love to see one where reader has put on weight and isn't happy with their body, and how each would make her feel better!! IF the muse agrees, of course! ❤️

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your body insecurity.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship, body insecurity (but also body appreciation), thicc thirty, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, spiciness/smuttishness.

Dean Winchester

You've started breezing past mirrors when you get out of the shower.

Because if you catch sight of your own reflection, you can't help but utter a sigh, your lips dipping into a frown.

In the privacy of the room you share with Dean in the bunker, you take a risk in unwrapping the towel from your body in front of the mirror.

You inspect yourself with growing dejection, noting all the places that are rounder, heavier, less firm than they used to be.

Looks like no amount of running down leads and killing monsters has been enough to keep you in shape.

Too much shitty fast food, too many times you indulged yourself with snacks and dessert alongside your foodie boyfriend.

"What'cha doin', sweetheart?" Dean asks. He steps into the room while wiping donut icing from the corner of his mouth.

Speak of the devil.

When Dean finally catches you frowning at yourself in the mirror, you inhale sharply and close the towel back up.

"Nothing. Just need to get dressed," you reply quickly. "Shower's open."

You try to offer him a smile, despite the pang of jealousy when you eye him.

He gave you the first chance at the shower after the latest case wrapped up, so he's still wearing most of his FBI suit, sans jacket. The white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a few days of scruff neatly trimmed across his cheeks.

The man can cram an entire pizza down his gullet and wash it down with three slices of apple pie, not to mention countless beers. And still, Dean stays looking downright edible.

By comparison, you feel...fat. Like you've let yourself go.

You turn away from him to grab your well-worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt; you plan to change alone in the bathroom, but Dean grabs your arm.

"Who says you need to get dressed?" he says, popping his brows with a suggestive grin. He slips his arms around your waist, but your instinct is to shy away from his hold. You chuckle awkwardly and avoid his now curious gaze.

"Sorry, babe. Um...I'm wiped. I just want to get to bed," you say.

But Dean isn't fooled. His spidey sense is tingling, and his gut is almost never wrong.

His hand slides down your arm and grasps your hand, tugging you back into his arms. You utter a little gasp, but you ultimately smile at his familiar grin. There's a perceptive gleam in his eyes though.

"You know, seems like you've been pretty wiped lately," he says, raising a brow. "It's been a while since we, uh..."

He waggles his brows playfully, squeezing your hips. You want to smile, but you can't let yourself. You can't quite look at him either.

For Dean, it's another glaring red flag. His lips form a frown, and he dips his chin to find your eyes.

"Hey," he says. "What's goin' on? Talk to me."

His tone is so sincere, you have to blink against the sting of tears. Your lower lip wobbles, and Dean frowns in earnest. He presses a hand to your cheek and gets you to look at him with your watery eyes.

"Sweetheart, you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says, more gently, but serious.

Eventually, you're able to get it out. You can't bear the thought of him touching you, because lately, you can't even bear looking at yourself.

"I know I've been gaining weight, I just..." your voice breaks, and you gesture haphazardly at your body. "I'd get it if you're not really into this right now."

Dean's heart clenches. He's downright shocked at your confession, and more than a little disheartened. He presses a hand to your cheek and guides you to look at him.

"All right, hold up just one damn minute."

His calloused fingers gently brush away your tears, but his hands keep moving, slowly traveling down your body. They slide down your bare arms, skimming the sides of your breasts.

Your breath hitches. Your hand is still fisted over your beating heart, keeping your towel closed. His hands continue to move, molding to the curve of your waist over the fuzzy fabric.

"I'll admit, we've been pretty busy lately with everything we've got going on. But if you think that means I'm ever not into this delectable, sexy, voluptuous, goddess body you got rockin' the house?" he says, grinning that utterly Dean grin of his.

You bite your lip against a bubble of laughter. He's too fucking much sometimes.

Dean tugs you closer, until your hips fit snugly against his through his slacks. His tall, broad frame crowds you. His lips skim your cheek, then over your lips in a tease.

He squeezes the flesh of your hips, tender and sensuous.

Your heart flutters at the feeling.

"Mmm, I like you nice and soft," he murmurs against your cheek, close to your ear. "Feels that much better when I fuck you."

A small gasp gets trapped in your throat, while the gravel depths in his voice go straight to your pussy in a pulsing throb of warmth.

By the time he claims your lips in a devouring kiss, you're all too willing to let him peel your towel open, drop it to the floor, and guide you backwards onto the bed.

There he'll take his time, forging yet another mental map of every plush square inch of you.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a busy man. You understand that.

As Sheriff, his job demands a lot from him. He's also a father and has an ex-wife to contend with. (You knew that going in, and you've come to love Emily too.)

However, you can't help but start to take it personally when your sex life begins to suffer. He's often claimed being tired...but there's another suspicion that's been taking root in your mind, feeding your doubts and insecurities about how your boyfriend sees you, and about how you see yourself.

When you slip into bed at night, a kiss goodnight is all he gives you lately, before he's sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his soft snores soon filling the room.

One night, you try touching his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his bearded cheek. He hums at the pleasant feeling.

"You wanna...?" You trail the question in his ear, pressing more sweet kisses down his neck.

"Aw, sweetheart," he groans. "I'd like to, but I think I'd just smother you. I'm about to pass out."

You huff a laugh. You teasingly walk two fingers across his chest. "What if I make it easy for you?"

You shift onto your side. Resting a hand on his chest, you lean down to kiss him. He hums at the softness of it, but the more passion you try to imbue into each new kiss, Beau isn't as responsive as you would like. Eventually, you stop all together.

You frown, becoming disheartened. "You're not into this, I guess."

He opens his tired eyes, gazes up at you in apology. He opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it.

"You know it's been a month since we've had sex," you say.

Beau frowns, sliding a hand up your back. Only now does he notice, with appreciation, the familiar silky négligée you're wearing.

"Nah, that doesn't sound right," he says.

"Well, it is," you say. "I know you say you're tired, but I mean, you've had this job for as long as I've known you, Beau." Your eyes fall away from him. "So is the job, or...is it me?"

Beau's brows furrow. "Now wait a minute."

The mere thought dredges up what's been plaguing your mind recently, and it has your throat tightening. Tears of embarrassment and upset well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push it down.

You push away from him and turn away, crossing your arms. You try not to look at yourself in what used to be your favorite lingerie.

You can't stand the extra weight you've put on, mostly in your hips and ass, but in your middle and arms too.

You've gone through your own stress at work this year, with less and less time to try and take care of yourself, along with making sure Emily gets to and from school, cooking for the three of you, going to PTA meetings when Carla can't make it (since Beau often can't), and every other proverbial hat you wear.

Beau follows you, sitting up and laying a hand on your back. "Sweetheart--"

"I know I've put on a few. Hell, more than a few," you admit, hastily wiping under your eyes. "God, I can't even look at myself right now, let alone have you--"

"Hey. You stop right there," Beau says, more firmly. He gets you to turn around with his hand on your shoulder. He doesn't like the way you're curled in on yourself, as if hiding your body from his gaze.

That, and the sight of your tears damn well break his heart.

He cups the side of your face gently and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.

You don't want to melt, but you just can't help it. You cling to the front of his shirt and lean into his kiss, like you've been lost in the desert, and his lips hold the breath of life.

You almost don't realize it when his arms slip around your waist. He earns a surprised yelp from you when he gathers you close against his chest and rolls you underneath him.

You land against the pillows in a huff. You stare up at his playful smile, his green eyes glinting with amusement, with fondness, and also with desire as they roam over your breasts, barely contained by dark green satin and lace.

"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he says. His voice is a low, earthy drawl as his gaze rakes over you. His big hand runs down your side and over your hip, then down your bare thigh, squeezing soft, tender flesh. He slips that hand under the satin night gown.

His hand can't span your entire thigh, but it's not for lack of trying. Your heart beats a staccato rhythm at the way he looks at you, your breath hitching when his thumb dips between your legs, brushing against the damp, silky fabric of your panties.

"It's not because I don't find you sexy as hell. Believe me, darlin', I do," he says. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, especially when you're all laid out for me here."

And he means what he says. You know it by the hardness you feel pressing against your hip. You slip your fingers into his hair with a sigh.

He bows his head to press kisses along your neck; down and down, he noses at the thin strap of your night gown. His path of kisses continue, and he indulges himself by dipping his tongue between the valley of your breasts.

"Filling out this lacy little thing so nice," he murmurs into your skin.

Your upset has turned to abject relief, but you still have to blink away the remaining urge to cry.

You let out a slightly tremulous breath.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask.

Beau pauses. He pulls away, just so he can look up and meet your eyes. He still finds insecurity in yours, so he meets you with a kiss filled with heat and intent.

He's now wide awake. He plans to take his sweet time taking you apart, inch by inch.

In fact, in the back of his mind, he also plans to do better about letting his deputies help him out more at the precint so he can have a better work-life balance.

(Because going a whole damn month without the taste of you is "no bueno," in his words.)

Soldier Boy (Ben)

The man may not be very patient, or particularly perceptive, but he's not an idiot.

At least, not about sex.

He knows that you've been feigning tiredness, and generally avoiding his touch.

What's strange is that you haven't been avoiding him. You still cook for him, still share conversation with him, still insist on having him spoon you on the couch while catching him up on the past four decades of TV shows and movies.

But when he begins to sneak a hand under your oversized shirt (an old one of Ben's), caressing your hip, then dipping down to your softer stomach on the way to your panties, breaking your concentration from the movie as unease laces down your spine.

You grab his wrist on reflex, instead lacing your fingers together.

"What's the matter now?" he asks.

You look over your shoulder at him and find him frowning at you, a divot between his brows. You don't manage to hold his gaze for long.

"Sorry," you say quietly. "I'm just, um, tired."

Ben doesn't believe you, and he's direct when he calls you out on it.

Reluctant to put what you've been feeling into words, you pause the movie and leave the couch (and him) behind.

Ben is annoyed enough to follow you (and underneath, he hides an edge of concern). The conflict leads into the bedroom, where you're still unwilling to open up.

He finally stops you from walking away from him, pinning you against the dresser by your hips. He practically looms over you as he demands an answer. He knows you're hiding something — something that's had you reluctant to let him touch you.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?" he says, a raw edge of warning in his tone. "What, are you fucking somebody else?"

Shock flashes in your eyes, making you angry. "What? No!"

"Well, you seem to be getting your fill somewhere, and it hasn't been from me--"

"Are you fucking serious? I'm not..." Your lips purse. You're actually hurt that he would hurl that accusation your way--and it couldn't be farther from the truth.

You tug your long shirt downwards and cross your arms, but it's more like you're hugging yourself, shielding your body away.

Ben's brows furrow a little bit more.

Eventually you get it out; you haven't been feeling up to being intimate because you're having a hard time even looking at yourself lately.

"I know I need to, um, get back in shape," you say, taking in a shaky breath to try and steady yourself. Your throat constricts, the beginnings of tears stinging your eyes. You want to look at anywhere but at Ben. "I just haven't had much time, with everything going on. But Annie gave me this guide on some different diets, like intermittent fasting, Keto--"

"Fasting," Ben intones. "What, you wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?"

You sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"No, not starve myself. And Keto's just..." The idea of trying to explain the new diet craze to your boyfriend is too daunting a task to consider. "Never mind. The point is, I have a plan. My hips, my thighs, my ass--"

Ben squeezes your hips at the mention of them. He happens to like the softness.

"Yeah, you've got a little extra. So fucking what?" he says, his voice deep and exacting as his gaze roams over your body. "Just gives me more to hold onto when I'm fucking you."

You utter a shocked laugh. "Ben!"

He grins lazily, and he turns you this way and that, admiring you from all angles. In his eyes, he doesn't find a side he doesn't like. You can't help but blush hotly under his gaze.

"Sweetheart, do whatever you want if it makes you feel good. But you don't need to starve yourself." His hands move to your ass, squeezing a bit harder on the plush flesh.

A yelp escapes you; he's pressing into you from the front as well, and you feel him heavy and already half-hard against you. You grab onto his arms for stability as your breaths quicken.

His attitude kind of surprises you, even though it soothes the frayed, insecure part of your soul that wants to be as beautiful and attractive in his eyes as he is in yours.

Ben is literally a super soldier. You're actually kind of jealous. The man can drug and booze hard and eat whatever the hell he wants, but his super metabolism just seems to absorb it into his washboard abs.

(The more you think about it, the more you want to smack him.)

Nothing about him isn't hard and lean, muscle and strength.

Only his hands have a measure of gentleless when they're holding you like this.

"I've just got so many stretch marks now," you begin to complain, in an emotional whisper.

He snorts. "And? You think it's anything I haven't seen? I'm not afraid of a little cellulite either."

At that, your head tilts in consideration. Butcher's Granny Fucker remark comes to mind. You bite your lip against a smirk.

Ben crooks a curled finger under your chin. He guides you to meet his eyes, before he lures you into a lusty kiss.

It's somewhat rough because of his beard, but you still smile afterwards, leaning against him now.

"Ain't nothing about you that I can't handle," he adds, all smirking and cocky. To prove his point, he hooks those strong hands behind your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders. From there, he makes quick work of ridding the oversized shirt from your body, revealing you to the cool air and his hot gaze.

You take his face in your hands and bring him in for an even steamier kiss, your heart lighter and trembling with anticipation.

You've held yourself from him long enough, Ben thinks, and he has every intention of devouring you right on your old dresser -- before you two even get to the bed.

AN: 😮‍💨 I feel like each of these could've been even longer with their own one-shot loll. I wrote the Midnight Espresso-verse for Dean, partially to explore what his relationship would be like with a plus-sized reader. 💖💖

Let me know which one you liked most this time!

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[feuxx]

she is simply . all of us joongdok shippers so i had to honor her as best as i could.

[pernillecfcw]

The face cards are insane ❤️‍🔥

[lxrnawhxre]

[very-uncorrect]

GOD I NEED A GIRLFRIEND SO FUCKING BAD

[captainsavre]

Marina: Season 7 Countdown

[zukkaoru]

did u guys know that.. genderbending and even transfem-ing your favorite male characters... doesn't actually mean you care about female characters. just some food for thought.

[epickiya722]

One, she is so damn gorgeous! ❤️‍🔥

Two, I don't care what anybody thinks. I still think Burnin made a valid point here. They are fighting in a war right now, so Endeavor should still do his job. She shouldn't care to be involved in their family drama because it's their issues to deal with. She is just an employee and she is here to support Shoto in a fight. That's her job. (Some of the hero characters are aware that being a hero is a job, not everyone is there for the fame and glory.)

Three, she is funny. No way she just roasted Endeavor like that. 😆

[daenerys-targaryen]

moods this Wednesday:

1) I am on my own and can’t face this

2) gay

[teafiend]

[graveyarrdshift]

me when women

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

(it's just after 10am, but it's shallow hour for me)

((I'd insert a gif here, but couldn't find one...))

The sight of Vincent (Benedict❤️‍🔥) just waking up at the beginning of episode 4 of Eric is giving me some *inspired* thoughts.

What do ya'll think, girlies?

[pernillecfcw]

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥