#i was waking and sleeping waking and sleeping waking and sleeping | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkmatilda · 3 days ago

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𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your toothbrush was in his bathroom, clothes in the wardrobe, and the sheets had long since grown accustomed to the scent of your skin. you were practically living together, but that day, when you're about to move in officially, one conversation with your boss, one ultimatum, and one decision change the purpose for which you're packing your boxes.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: glasses reid x bau!female reader, ugh mostly fluff with a bit of hurt and comfort, unspecified height difference mentioned

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5.k

𝐚/𝐧: it wasn’t a request, but @penelopegarciaismygf kind of suggested it in a conversation—thank you, thank you, love, for the inspiration <3

The golden light seeped through the imperfectly covered window, making its pilgrimage across the entire width of the room straight to your bodies buried under the bedding and, more precisely, to your eyes.

You furrowed your brow and rubbed your still half-asleep eyes. The morning silence was fragile but steady—it seemed to rise and fall gently, adjusting to the rhythm of Spencer’s breathing as he lay on his side, facing you. Although the prospect of crawling out of bed, getting up, and going to work didn’t exactly fill you with enthusiasm or make you want to leap to the ceiling with energy, a small, lazy smile spread naturally across your lips.

Maybe it was because of the expression on his sleeping face—or rather half of it, since the other half was buried in the pillow. Maybe it was those unruly brown hair strands you wanted to smooth with your fingers, but you held back, knowing that waking him when he looked so peaceful and idyllic felt almost like committing a crime. Maybe it was simply his presence.

At that very moment, the sound of the alarm clock snapped you out of your trance and pulled Spencer from his sleep. His temples tensed for a second as his eyes started to open. You quickly leaned over his body to reach the source of the noise, silencing it before it could take over the room.

He opened his eyes, blinking slowly, as if shaking off the heavy grip of sleep that had just held him. Then, his still partly absent gaze focused on the figure hovering above him—on you.

You crawled onto him, pressing your weight down just enough to keep him from sitting up.

"I've got good news for you," you began, resting your forearm on his collarbones and propping your chin on it as you spoke.

Your voice was soft, husky—the first words you’d uttered that morning.

Spencer, just as you intended, remained on his back. His hand had somehow found its way to your hip, as if he were making sure you wouldn’t slip off. Looking at you through half-closed eyes, he gave you a gentle smile.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice edged with a bit of morning rasp that seemed to make the air between you vibrate ever so slightly.

For a moment, you stayed still, simply looking into his eyes, until you remembered that you both had work that day and couldn’t afford to be late. It didn’t matter how warm his body felt beneath you, wrapping around you like a blanket, or how the scent of the night you’d just spent together lingered softly on his skin.

“A good fairy visited you and is offering an extra five minutes of sleep,” you murmured. “While she makes coffee.”

His eyebrows arched slightly with intrigue.

“Is this fairy an altruist, or is there a catch?”

“Mhm. There is a catch. But it’s a pretty easy one,” you said. “Just one kiss. There could’ve been more, but you get a discount for those pretty eyes.”

You even closed your eyes again, waiting for him to fulfill your request. But Spencer remained still—physically, at least—though his sleepy face showed growing amusement.

“The fairy should know I have a girlfriend,” he replied with a slight shrug. “And she wouldn’t be too happy about me kissing someone else in our bed. Even if it is an incorporeal being.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the wide smile spreading across your face.

“The fairy already talked to her about it,” you snorted, brushing his hair away from his forehead. “And she thinks five extra minutes of sleep is an offer too good to pass up. So?”

Spencer let out a defeated sigh.

“Well then…”

You leaned in to kiss him, his head still resting on the pillow. Under the pressure of your lips, he sank even deeper into it, and his hand on your hip tightened its hold. His sleepy mind seemed to have forgotten the concept of moderation, wanting everything at once as he pulled you even closer. For a moment, he forgot to breathe, letting out a soft, involuntary whimper when you pulled away. It wasn’t easy, but someone had to make sure you both didn’t end up getting fired.

“Five minutes,” you reminded him before sliding off of him and then out of bed.

Well, you didn’t mention that you’d already wasted at least half of that time teasing each other.

He kept his head slightly raised, as if wanting to see you off with all the honor and dignity his sleepy state could muster, following you with his gaze until you reached the bedroom door. But as soon as your foot crossed the threshold, the rustle of the sheets announced his swift retreat back into them, fully intending to make the most of the time granted by the good fairy.

After a wake-up like that, a gentle smile lingered on your lips as you made your way to the bathroom. You’d left a toothbrush there for yourself a while ago, and not long after, a face wash had joined it. Before you knew it, your collection of toiletries at your boyfriend’s place had grown larger than the one at your own. The realization hit you one evening when you and the girls from the team were getting ready for a night out—you couldn’t find your favorite lipstick because, well, it was there. Same with your favorite perfume.

Most of your clothes.

You could say that your entire life’s belongings had slowly started to migrate.

It didn’t bother you—in fact, you were spending more and more time there anyway, and it was convenient to have everything within reach. But it did create a bit of a cycle. You spent another night at Spencer’s place because all your things were there, and all your things were there because you spent another night at Spencer’s place.

Soon enough, your own apartment started to feel a bit foreign. Almost like all those hotels you ended up in while working on cases. Sure, you could relax there, catch your breath after a long day, but it just wasn’t the same.

You headed to the kitchen to make the promised coffee. At that exact moment, Spencer appeared in the doorway as well. His eyes weren’t fully open yet, and his hair was a true mess—barely deserving to be called hair at all. He was trying to put his glasses on the wrong way, accidentally poking himself in the eye.

A snort escaped you.

"I seriously doubt even the strongest coffee could pull you out of this state," you remarked with a touch of amused sarcasm.

"It doesn't hurt to try," he groaned, this time managing to put his glasses on correctly and without risking an eye injury. That’s when his gaze fully landed on you. His lips parted slightly, as if he’d just remembered something. "The mugs are—"

"Here," you finished, opening the exact cabinet where they were stored. Spencer nodded, mouthing a silent right. "You don't have to remind me every time,"

"I know, sorry," he sighed, moving closer to you at the counter where you were making coffee and leaning against it sideways.

His hand, straightened at the elbow, rested on the edge, and the pads of his fingers tapped out a rhythm, as if lost in thought. A similar expression appeared on his face. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him watching you in a thoughtful way.

Handing him the mug of freshly made coffee, you raised your eyebrows.

"Do I have toothpaste around my mouth or what?" you asked.

"What?" He jolted, completely caught off guard by your question. For a moment, he froze in place, then shook his head, realizing he'd zoned out. "No—I... Thanks for the coffee," he said, still looking somewhat dazed.

You tilted your head to the side with curiosity. Was it just regular sleepiness, or something more? Somehow, you had a gut feeling that something a bit more elusive was behind his behavior. You were probably becoming an expert at reading him.

"You're welcome," you replied.

"I really like when you're here in the morning."

"Because I make you coffee?"

He let out a chuckle, lowering his gaze to his mug. Standing so close, only two wisps of steam rising from your drinks separated you. You slowly set yours down on the counter, adopting a more focused, expectant stance.

"Not just because of that," he denied, the corners of his lips twitching slightly. For a moment, he held his mug in an uncertain grip, as if he'd forgotten what it was for. Only after a prolonged sigh did he also set it aside, briefly rubbing his forehead.

"Maybe I should put it better. It's not just that I like when you're here in the morning."

He paused, lifting his eyes to meet yours through the small difference in height between you. You saw how the softness in his dark, now fully awake eyes mingled with a hint of nervousness. He swallowed.

"I like when you're here. Just...here."

For some reason, an inexplicable stress washed over you too. For a moment, you felt surprised by it, only to realize a beat later what this feeling was called.

Excitement.

"Mhm," you hummed slowly. "I like it too. I mean, being here."

You thought you knew where this conversation was headed. You thought you wanted to help guide it there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to apply any pressure. If he didn’t ask, that was fine. But if he did...

"I've actually been thinking about this a lot lately," Spencer continued. "You know, we work together. I mean, I know you know we work together..." He blinked. "Okay, from the top. What I meant to say is that since we work together, it would actually be quite practical. We wouldn’t have to commute from two different places and...and our carbon footprint would be smaller..."

"Spencer—"

"...So it wouldn’t just be convenient, but also economical and, I think, enjoyable, because, as we both just agreed, we like being here, with each other..."

You opened your mouth, but he beat you to it again.

"But if not, that's totally fine. I’m not trying to pressure you, of course—the most important thing is whether you want to, whether we both want to, but I just... I just wanted you to know that I really would like that, and it’s just a matter of..."

"Spencer, are you trying to ask me to move in with you?"

You felt that if you didn’t put it into clear words yourself, he might never get there. He’d sooner deliver an entire lecture on CO2 emissions, lose his train of thought halfway through, and somehow end up talking about the JFK assassination—leaving both of you completely unsure what his original point was.

You couldn’t really criticize him for it, because you knew you’d listen, completely enchanted, for an embarrassingly long time—thinking about how adorable he was when he drifted off-topic without even realizing it.

Spencer paused for a moment, his lips slightly parted, as if he were in shock that it was possible to say it so simply. He nodded eagerly.

You, too, froze for a moment, because, well, it had just hit you. He had really meant to ask that from the beginning—it wasn’t just a figment of your imagination or some mistaken assumption. You drew in a deeper breath, nodding even more eagerly, because forming a full sentence had suddenly become quite difficult.

"Are you sure?" The question slipped out, and he seemed amused by it.

Okay, asking that after he even brought up ecological reasons was seriously unnecessary.

"Of course I am. I've been sure for a while, actually. I wanted to suggest it earlier... but I didn't know how you felt. I wasn't sure if you’d think it was too soon."

You took a sip of coffee, barely tasting it because you were so absorbed in the situation and his words. You, too, had spent a lot of time thinking about moving in together, not knowing how to bring up the topic. There was no universal rule for when a couple should start considering living together—no ancient script with a clear decree to do it after a set number of months. They say that living together is what truly tests a couple, showing you each other in the most intimate situations, in a place where the dress code requires taking off the mask. It's not uncommon for this stage to be the beginning of the end.

But you weren’t worried about that at all. You knew you’d make it work—this thought dominated your mind, and no doubts could withstand its strength. After all, you’d already been practically living together for a while; bringing a few more things from your apartment wouldn’t change anything—if anything, it would only solidify what already was.

The only stress you felt was the good kind.

"I’ll need to move everything over. Well, it’s not that much since most of it’s already here, but still, it’s a job for a day off, which means..." You were already planning everything and estimating how many boxes you’d need. The effect of excitement, probably.

But then your gaze fell on the clock, then on your boyfriend, still in his loose sleep t-shirt, and finally on your own clothes.

"Oh, shit, Spencer, we’re gonna be late!"

He straightened up, realizing the same thing. You pressed the mug to your lips, wanting to finish your coffee as quickly as possible and immediately get moving to get dressed. Despite the rush, you still tried to savor that morning.

Soon, good fairies, moving plans, and cardboard boxes would be replaced by something else—specifically bodies, victims, and unsubs.

"I'm exhausted," you groaned, leaning your shoulder and temple against the wall.

Concern shimmered in Spencer's eyes as he stood across from you.

"We'll be home soon," he reassured you gently. But then, his brow furrowed. "At least, I hope we'll be home soon. I have no idea what Hotch wants to talk to us about. Do you?"

You shook your head. The boss had told you both to wait for him outside his office, so there you were, leaning against the wall opposite the door with his name on it. You wondered what this could be about, but you were too tired to really care. The last three days had been spent working on an incredibly difficult case in another state, and all you wanted now was to crash into bed, snuggle up against your boyfriend, and erase everything from your memory.

Tense, you wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I swear, if he comes in here to tell us we're going on some secret mission to Florida to chase a cannibal who makes human soup, I won’t even cry," you declared. "I'll just jump out the window right away."

"You’d lose your job," Spencer pointed out. "And, well, you’d die."

"Interesting that you mentioned losing my job first. Boyfriend of the year, no doubt."

"Oh, don’t complain."

He snorted, but a tiny, tired smile lingered on his lips. Before moving closer to you, he glanced around. At work, you both rarely showed affection—it was something you had mutually agreed upon. Well, the FBI wasn’t exactly the place for that kind of thing.

However, the fact that you were completely alone in that hallway convinced him to break your private protocol. He leaned in just enough to press a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“We’ll survive the talk with Hotch, and then it’s just…”

“Sleeping,” you finished with a dreamy sigh, resting your temple against his chest.

“Well, not exactly,” he replied. His hand found its way to your head, fingers gently tangled in your hair. “Tomorrow, we’re spending the whole day cleaning out your old place, remember?”

You let out a long groan.

“Why can’t everything just magically transport itself instead of needing actual human effort…”

“Because…” Before he could respond with some undoubtedly logical explanation, something alerted him, and he stepped back from you.

You glanced over your shoulder. Hotch was approaching, clad in a black suit and, much like you both, wearing a less-than-fresh expression.

"I'm glad you stayed," he said, his tone a bit robotic and devoid of any emotion, which amusingly contrasted with his words.

As if we had a choice, you thought as he led you into his office. He took a seat on the other side of the desk, and you quickly exchanged glances with Reid. You were both starting to feel a bit anxious. There was something in Hotch’s posture and stride that didn’t exactly suggest, say, a raise.

"Did something happen?" Spencer asked, his brow furrowing. "Is it about the case, or maybe the report...?"

"No, it has nothing to do with that," Hotch stated. You held back from exchanging another glance. He froze for a moment, his gaze fixed on both of you, but his expression gave nothing away. Then...he sighed.

"We're all tired, so I'll get straight to the point. This is about the two of you."

"I think we figured that much out," you remarked.

The sarcasm wasn’t meant to be rude—it slipped out as a natural response to the sudden wave of stress that washed over you. Hotch's gaze lingered on you for a moment, and that was all it took. You knew what this was about. You simply felt it.

"You know that relationships between agents aren’t exactly encouraged here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Spencer’s face grow taut. A prolonged silence fell over the room. Neither of you spoke, as if staying quiet might somehow halt the conversation altogether—freeze it in that moment and then let it melt away, disappearing like a cube of ice.

A lump formed in your throat, so massive it made swallowing difficult.

"But they aren't forbidden," you said.

It was true—there was no such rule. If there had been...well, you weren’t sure what would’ve happened to you two. Would you have hidden it? Or maybe you’d never have allowed anything to develop between you in the first place? It wasn’t the kind of question you pondered for fun before falling asleep, so you genuinely had no idea.

In theory, you hadn’t done anything wrong, yet in practice, you were sitting in Hotch’s office.

Something had to be up—something had to be wrong.

"Which doesn't change the fact that such relationships are not looked upon favorably," your boss continued. There was no reprimand in his voice—he wasn’t scolding you for being together. In fact, you doubted he cared about it at all. The fact that you were in a relationship hadn’t changed the way you did your job in any way.

"And it also doesn't change the fact that you've attracted particular attention," he paused for a longer moment, cleared his throat, still incredibly calm, though something was beginning to break through on his face as he stared at you both. Displeasure? "If it were up to me..."

"It actually is up to you," Spencer interrupted him, sitting as straight as a string in his seat, staring at him almost without blinking. There was a silent plea in that gaze. And perhaps the last echoes of denial that had long since quieted in you. That’s why you didn’t even flinch when Hotch shook his head. "Right? You could vouch for us...It didn’t start yesterday, you know our relationship has never once caused us to botch a case, or anything like that, not once has it negatively impacted an investigation—"

"Reid, I am fully aware of that. This is not my decision," he emphasized. His next words came out slightly quieter. "Just as it’s not my decision which one of you will leave the team. I know this will be difficult, but I’m leaving it up to you."

Spencer parted his lips, not knowing what to say, while you only took a loud breath and held it at the top. Suddenly, you didn’t feel sleepy anymore. You felt as if a soap bubble had burst right in front of your eyes, and a bit of the stinging liquid had gotten into them. But above all, everything colorful and wonderfully distorted by the bubble’s shifting surface had suddenly vanished.

You could have predicted this. The last few months had been going too well. Something had to burst.

You were the first to shake off the shock and rise from your seat. Your movements felt as if something was restraining you.

“We’ll let you know what we decide,” you said to your boss.

Spencer stared at you with a dazed expression. Not directly at your face, but at the calmness surrounding you. He shook his head, not blinking.

“No, wait, we don’t—” he trailed off, watching Hotch nod as you slowly moved toward the door. He stood up as well, but he didn’t look like he intended to follow you. “We can just figure this out; no one has to leave the team. Who decided this?”

“We should go,” you said quietly, before Hotch could answer him.

He met your gaze, a hint of disbelief in his eyes. From his perspective, it might have seemed strange—as if you were choosing to give up without so much as a discussion or an attempt to change anything. But perhaps you simply accepted things more easily, even the worst news, and recognized when a situation was truly lost.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Spencer finally decided to follow you, clearly unsettled by your strange behavior. Before you both left, you managed to exchange a fleeting glance with Hotch. Brief, yet filled with a certain understanding. Because he, of course, knew.

You didn’t have a heated argument on the way to your car—in fact, you didn’t say a word. He watched you closely, and it was clear that so many questions were pushing against his lips, a whole shapeless, chaotic mass of them. That state lingered even inside, the parking lot nearly deserted, and the night—just an ordinary night like any other day of the year—felt somehow withdrawn and distant, as if it was afraid to come between you.

"I don't understand you," Spencer finally said, his hands dropping onto his knees in a gesture filled with helplessness. He had been sitting completely turned toward the front windshield, his gaze fixed there, and only shifted it to you a second before speaking. "Instead of trying to handle this, you decided to walk out."

"Because it can't be handled," you said firmly, pressing your back hard against the seat. "We can argue and try, of course we can, but what's the point? This isn't some new school rule we don't like—it's our job, our team, and a whole lot of people above us. "Listen, I don't want it to look like I just gave up right away. I just looked at it realistically. If even Hotch couldn't do anything..." You waved your hand with a sigh, as if that gesture could finish the sentence.

Spencer took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. He drew out the motion, gathering his thoughts.

"It's not fair that he left us with this decision," he said after a long moment. "Basically speaking, he just dumped it on us. And what are we supposed to do now? Choose which one of us leaves the team?"

You didn't feel like the question needed an answer. This was the situation you were in—that was the fact—and even Spencer seemed to be starting to understand it. You didn't have the strength to face the looming sense of injustice. It would be different if you had actually committed some violation or broken any rules. Then, at least, it would make sense. But as it stood, you were put in this position simply because word of your relationship had reached the wrong ears—ears that had decided to shut it down, seemingly out of nothing more than some arbitrary whim.

You looked at each other again, in a quiet stillness that made it harder for you to breathe. He gave a slight nod, swallowing. He didn’t look like someone making a decision. He looked simply lost. Like you, he was exhausted. Combined, the two of you sat side by side, incredibly fragile and weak, forced to make an overwhelming decision in this state.

You wanted to speak, but he beat you to it.

"I can do it," he declared. He cut the last syllable short, almost swallowing it, as if he was afraid his voice might break. He held eye contact with you only sporadically, but you didn’t need to look into his eyes—or even at him—to understand the obvious truth. That this job meant so much to him. "I have...I really have plenty of other offers. There’s bound to be something even better than the BAU. You should stay."

"Don’t be ridiculous."

"I'm not," he insisted. "I...I'm a good profiler, but I’ve never been great in the field. Not as good as you. You’re smart, you adapt well to new situations. If you stay, you’ll be far more valuable to them than I ever could be."

He looked into your eyes, and the fact that he was saying what he truly felt seemed almost too much to bear. You hid your face in your hands for a fleeting moment, then stretched out your hand, stopping him from saying anything more.

"We’re not discussing this," you declared.

It was, in a way, cruel—to have to look each other in the eye and say out loud which of you mattered more. But, thankfully, you didn’t have to do that. For one reason, a reason that echoed through all the looks Hotch had given you during your conversation. And whose beginning lay a few weeks back, in the offer you had received—but had kept entirely to yourself.

"Well, I’d rather not either, but we have to—"

"We don’t have to," you interrupted him, exhaling sharply. For a moment, you turned your face toward the side window before looking back at him to say the words you hadn’t yet had the chance to voice out loud. "I...Two weeks ago, I also received an offer. Something... something really serious, but I didn’t want to tell anyone because I knew you’d try to convince me to take it, and that would mean, um...it would mean..."

He gently reached for your arm.

"Maybe you should start from the beginning?"

Focusing on his touch, you nodded.

"It's Interpol. And well, not exactly a job—it's training. Undercover Operations and Covert Techniques, something...something that would give me a lot of opportunities."

"Is that something you’d want?"

"Spencer, it's in the Netherlands."

You saw it—the expression on his face shifted for a fraction of a second. He lowered his gaze to hide it, then returned to his original position, forcing a slight smile that didn’t quite land.

"But still. Is it something you want?"

Slowly, you reached for his hand on your shoulder, covering it with your own. You gently ran your fingers over the back of his hand, over his knuckles.

"I don’t want to leave you."

He leaned his face closer to yours, gently shaking his head from side to side.

"That’s not something that should hold you back. Did you want to take it?"

You shrugged, because, truly, it was a complicated matter for you.

"I was considering it, but I was a bit scared. I’ve gotten used to our team. Well, after today’s conversation with Hotch, I’d probably agree to it without hesitation—after all, one of us has to," you explained on an exhale. "But it’s a different continent, and lately...lately, everything has been so good. Between us. Not that it wasn’t before, but recently, I keep catching myself thinking that I love you, and it feels so natural and so honest and so good, and I was supposed to move in tomorrow, and I feel like I’m going to ruin everything by leaving right now..."

You fell silent, feeling the first tears welling up in your eyes under the weight of all the thoughts and doubts. You tried to push them away by looking up and blinking faster. When you looked at him again, his gaze followed your actions with a gentle sadness.

“You won’t ruin anything,” he promised quietly, his hand shifting in yours, trying to hold on more firmly. Slowly, you relaxed your fingers around his. “It was good, you’re right, but... we can’t stay in the same place forever. And it wouldn’t be wise to turn down such an offer just because of this.”

You stayed quiet for a moment. Once you’d started spilling your doubts and fears, it was hard to stop.

“It’s not just that,” you admitted hesitantly. “I know you know the statistics. What percentage of relationships fall apart when one person leaves?”

“It doesn’t matter because statistics don’t apply to us,” he stated firmly, straightening slightly. “Statistics say drowning in a bathtub is more likely than a plane crash, and I’m sure you’re more stressed about flying than taking a bath.”

"I don’t know what you’re getting at."

"Me neither."

You stared at him in silence for a moment before the corners of your mouth curled up. It was a somewhat bitter smile, a paradoxical expression of the weight on your chest and the fears swirling inside you. You took a deeper breath, the air trembling as it moved through your lungs, and leaned in to rest your forehead against his. A simple gesture, allowing yourself to close your eyes and, if only for a brief moment, shut off your mind.

"I love you too," he said after a long moment.

You opened your eyes, a bit surprised by the suddenness of his confession.

"Earlier, you said you catch yourself thinking that you love me. And well, if my memory serves me right...I never really told you that, at least not directly. But I do, and maybe, hm, maybe that's why I know that we'll be alright. No matter what happens."

A part of you wanted to ask out loud if he truly believed that. Another part didn’t need any more reassurance—constantly seeking it only fed your insecurities and fears. So you simply nodded gently, your foreheads still pressed together.

“We’ll be alright,” you echoed him.

Those words carried a certain calm with them. They weren’t a promise that could be kept or broken, setting you up for great disappointment. They were simply a fact, tossed into the air, and despite their lightness, they found their own path, eventually sticking to your heart.

“Can we go home now?”

He pulled his head back, leaving his hand in yours, and just nodded softly.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spence reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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monstersholygrail · 3 days ago

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Can I request a very wholesome blurb/ headcanons of dragon bf/husband cuddling reader on a rainy day? It can be western or eastern dragon. Thank you!

🦊

Awww I love the wholesomeness. I honestly love getting SFW asks bc I love just writing fluff and deep intense love :)

Dragon Husband who wakes up before you to hear the soft patter of rain outside of their cave. His heart races with excitement, knowing you’re gonna wanna have another one of your cozy days with him.

Dragon Husband carefully unwraps his body from yours in order to get a fire started. Not wanting you to be cold at all when you wake up. And you do so love when the cave is all warm and toasty.

Dragon Husband brightens immediately when he picks up on your soft feet pattering into the main room of the cave. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and being your totally adorable self.

Dragon Husband can’t even wait a minute for you to fully wake up before he’s sliding over to you and wrapping his long tail around your curvy form. Molding you so perfectly to his body. It like you were made for him and he was made for you

Dragon Husband pampers you all day. Cooking you a warm delicious breakfast and keeping close as he feeds you each tasty bite. Wanting you to fully relax on such a soft day.

Dragon Husband low purrs echo off of him and vibrate right into your back in a way that almost lulls you back to sleep right in his arms (that was the plan. You’re just too clever not to fall for it)

Dragon Husband protests as you insist on looking out into the rain. You need to stay by the fire and in his arms. If you go out in the rain you could catch a cold.

Dragon Husband follows closely behind you with a small pout as you settle closer to the edge of the cave. He brings with you both a pile of blankets so he can make sure you’re comfortable on the hard ground. Not that you touch much of it as he wraps himself around you again.

Dragon Husband arches into your touch as your hands run along his smooth scales. His purrs returning softer this time. He nuzzles into your neck, shivering against you, though it has nothing to do with the rain. He basks in your affection, hoarding it all like the dragon he is.

Dragon Husband loves the soft moments between you two. The way you can spend hours without saying a word. All you needing is each other’s presence to feel completely at ease. And that’s the way you spend the rest of the day. Without a word and completely wrapped up in each other’s arms. He’ll never get enough of sweet lovely days like this with you, his beautiful precious mate.

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horror-sapphic · 3 days ago

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ILUV | Sub Jinx x mommy g!p fem reader

Summary: Giving into Jinx's needs, even when she doesn't want you to.

Pairings: Mommy fem g!p reader x sub jinx

cw; mommy kink. Lactation. anal. g!p reader. masturbating/fingering. praise kink. Whiny sub jinx. Jinx is a creamer and squirter (cause I said so). Pussy to ass/ass to pussy fucking. pussy slapping (jinx to herself). dubcon/noncon-ish towards the end.

wc; 1.7k

a/n: not well edited

Jinx is so needy, waking you up in the morning by nudging your breasts over and over again with her warm mouth open and hovering over your clothed nipple, “Mhm c’mon” she’d grunt — growing tired of you still sleeping. Eventually waking you up with her nonstop whining, you pull your shirt up for her. “Here” you whisper – still sleepy, rolling on your side.

Jinx almost immediately latches right on to your nipple – desperately slipping her pink tongue gingerly under it as it sits in her mouth, sucking gently, rolling and shutting her eyes at the taste and temperature of her mommy’s milk.

She looks forward to this morning routine, having her fix on repeat.

“Mhmm” you breath out, grasping the back of her messy bed head while she sucks and drinks your milk. Jinx slips her knee between your legs, gently rocking her knee against your hardening cock. You roll on your back so she can have access to the other tit, she’d catch on, switching her focus to your other leaky nipple. Rolling her tongue over the squirting buds, moaning over the taste.

“Drink up baby” you rasp, thrusting your hips into Jinx's slithering hand landing on your dick. Her stroking over your shorts growing faster and harder, turning into her slipping her hand inside the band of your bottoms starting to jerk you off with her mouth is still sucking on you. “You’re so big mommy” she’d moan, letting your tit slip out her mouth. Her pink laced panties becoming slick from her having your heavy cock in her hands, slowly leaking pre cum onto her knuckles.

She squeezes her legs together — rocking to help ease the spreading ache through her slick cunt, “Not all of it” you’d huff, pulling her off your chest. She’d frown, speeding up her toying hand while her sulky eyes bore your blushing face.

You begin thrusting your hips harder into her hands making her sit up, pulling the covers off your legs to put your twitching cock into her welcoming mouth. Sucking and twirling her tongue on the tip of your cock while the rest of her hand strokes the rest of your shaft at a toe curling speed, your head pushes deeper into the mattress with silent cries coming out of your hanging out.

“You're doing so- so good baby. Sucking your mommy’s cock like that” you praise, turning her pretty little head into a swirly mess. Her searching eyes watching your hands play and squeeze at your nipples, squirting your own milk onto your chest.

“Nnugh, fuck” she’d whimper, slipping your cock out of her mouth and letting it go to stuff her hands into her soaked panties. “I couldn’t hold it anymore” her fussing turning into moaning as she slips her slim fingers into her aching cunt, you lean on your elbows, watching her legs spread as her hand moves quickly under her clothed pussy. Wet plopping sounds coming from her as she roughly fingers herself, pulling and holding her panties aside to pound her fingers into her pretty pink pussy. Pulling her fingers out for a second to add more, stuffing herself as she drips down her fingers.

“Let me help you” you whisper teasing, any amount of innocent thoughts seemed to sliver out of your head. You crawl over to her, towering her on your knees wanting an up close view of her spread pussy already creaming down her knuckles. “Please fuck me, please” her big bright blue eyes shutting tightly as her legs shake, “Shhh” you coo, grabbing her wrist to stop her fast motions. “Let mommy help you”.

You pulled her fingers out slowly before pushing her on her back, lifting her legs by her head so she’s spread open. Slipping and rubbing your cock in between her slick folds a few times, “No teasing pleaseee” she’d whisper looking up at you with her furrowed brows, nibbling on her lips. You align the wide head of your heavy cock to her fuck hole, the head of it just slipping in.

Sinking into the warm walls of her cunt before completely pulling out, earning a hiss from the blue haired girl under you. Not wanting to hear her whine again, you slam the entirety of your cock back into her. Filling her in one full thrust, “hnngg fuck I-” she moans out, clenching around you, choking your cock.

“Fuck- Jinx you’re sooo wet” you rasp, gritting your teeth at the sight of her puffy cunt taking you repeatedly to the base. Sucking in your cock that’s now covered in her creamy arousal, dripping onto your balls as you pound her tight hole. “Right – fucking there” she’d squeak, her voice slightly hoarse. The wet slapping sounds coming from drilling her leaky pussy makes her eyes slightly cross from how deep you’re fucking her, gripping the back of her legs harder to add more force to your thrusts. Eventually coming to a slow pace, still bucking into her with enough force to make her body jerk.

“Such a good pussy for mommy mhmm”, this new hard pace making you lose your mind before speeding up, chasing the urge to cum in her. Going back to hammering her weeping cunt, her bent legs shaking beside her. “Mhmm nguh fuck, I’m cumming mommy” she wails, rubbing her clit hard and fast as the amount of cream slipping out of her pussy onto your cock grows.

Squirting her pussy juices onto your lower half and falling back down into her own leaky pussy, her clit rubbing turning into her smacking her hand down on her sensitive pussy. “Hmm ngnguh” her breathy moans growing in volume and she doesn’t let up, continuing to slap her pussy through her orgasm. You’re in awe watching her stretched pussy quiver as she’s still cumming around you. “Keep fucking me, don- don’t stop plea” she can barely get the words out as you speed up making her squirt and cream more.

Egging her on by letting go of the grip on one of her legs to each one of your tits to squeeze your milk out onto her chest, “Oh my g- oh fuck” she’d yell, pulling you down so she can latch back on while you split her pussy.

“My god- uh fuck”, the feeling of her mouth around your nipples, sucking down your milk while you pound her sopping pussy from below urging you to cum. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” cumming into her as she grips around your cock tighter than she has this entire night. “Mhmm fuck” she moans, letting your tit fall out her mouth. A drop of milk falling down her chin, you don’t stop your motions – looking down to watch yourself fuck your cum deeper into her fucked out pussy.

You pull out of her leaky cunt, grabbing your stiff cock to the entrance of her asshole.“Mhmm too much” she’d sob, pushing away at your chest, you ignore her cries, spreading her legs further to give you more access, easing your way into her hole until her perky ass meets your hips. “n-no please, I can’t take it, mhm fuck” she whines out, breathlessly.

You begin slowly fighting into her tightest hole, grinding your teeth at this new inviting feeling. “I need this” you grunt, fucking her as hard, causing ripples to her ass. Her tight pink ring gripping onto your cock with her mouth hung open, “Please I-” you slap your hand over her mouth trying to push out another orgasm. “Ohh my- oh fuck” you speed up, slamming your hips against hers.

Completely lost as you’re on the brink of cumming again, you quickly pull out of her asshole entering back into her glistening pussy. Filling it in one thrust, and keeping a hard pace. You can feel her mouth starting to relax against your wet palm, forming an open “O” shape. “Acting like you didn’t want this, fucking slut” you spit.

“You’re too wet to want me to stop”.

“Mhmm” jinx would mumble, leaning onto her elbows to watch you slip in and out of her. Her legs are still hanging by her sides, under the pressure of one of your hands gripping onto it. You pull your hand back from her mouth placing it back onto her free leg, so you can slip out of her pussy and go back to fucking her hole splitting her once more.

Jinx’s asshole milks your cock as your cum goops out of her aching cunt, onto your balls. Her pussy becomes a sloppy gooey mess prompting you to enter back into it. “Mhfmmf oh, fuc- ugh more” she hums, her head hanging back, swinging from the power of you hammering her trembling pussy. Jinx mewls in pain and pleasure at just forcing your way once more to her ass, no easing in. Just spreading her open and fucking into her slick asshole, “okay- ah fuck, okay, okay mhm no” she’s babbling at this point.

So close to cumming again but the pain of you smashing into her makes her head spin, barely trying to push you off anymore. Giving up and just trying to soothe herself by drinking from your chest again, “Almost there baby” you mutter, letting her legs wrap around your waist.

“Mhmm aw- ah baby, ohh mmhmf fuck” your hips stuttering as you try and keep your pace, the strength behind your thrusts keeping steady. “Ah, mhm— ah” jinx squeaks one last time as you fill her stretched asshole with your final load.

She lets your milky tit go, going stiff as she quietly cums with your cock still lodged inside her ass, her eyes shut from embarrassment as more thick white cum falls out of her pussy – slipping down to your cock.

“Such a good baby” you whispered as you come down from your orgasm, pulling yourself back up on your knees feeling her asshole spasm around your cock while you watch as her pussy still leaks cream. Her legs are quivering, you give into the urge to still play with her. Slipping your thumb through her gushing folds to toy with her clit, making her body jerk. “Mhm” she squeals.

“Okay, I’m done, I’m done” you tease, leaving out of her slippery, slightly gaping asshole making a wet ‘pop’ sound. She lets out another whimper, sitting up to push you down onto the bed so she can lay on top of you putting you back in her mouth to drink from you.

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moonstruckme · 2 days ago

Note

my queen of comfort 🙇🏻‍♀️

can i pls request a marauders with reader who has seasonal depression and it gets bad especially during the winters??? thank u 🫶

Thanks for being patient with me lovely <3

cw: depression, no harmful thoughts but general apathy and lethargy

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 995 words

It’s warm in your bed. Almost too warm. The backs of your knees and the place where your arm is folded against your side feel uncomfortably heated. But Sirius kisses the back of your neck when he wakes, and you wouldn’t move for anything.

“Let’s go to the farmer’s market today,” he says, voice sticky with sleep.

You look out the crack in the curtains covering your bedroom window. “It’s so cold out, though.”

“So we’ll bundle up. You can put your hands in my pockets if you don’t feel like wearing your gloves.” His nose bumps your nape as he kisses you again. “It’ll be very romantic. The woman who sells the apple tarts said she’d be back this week, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m okay.”

“You won’t let me get my girl a sweet? I thought you really liked those.”

“I do, just.” Just. It feels like it’s all you say lately, like all you do is make excuses. Just, just, just. “It doesn’t seem worth it. It’s really gross outside.”

Sirius’ arm comes around your waist. He doesn’t contradict you. It’s dreary and gray out your window, drizzling rain that bites like ice when it lands on your skin. You’d rather lose track of the day lying here with him, let it slip through your fingers and not think very hard about what it means that you have. Sirius’ fingers playing with yours make this all the more appealing.

“What if we went to the cinema?” he asks. “That comedy film is showing this weekend.”

“Didn’t James want to see that one?”

“Think so, yeah.”

“You should take him.”

“I don’t want to take James.” Your joined hands press to your hip, a gentle request for you to turn around. But you don’t want to look at him, and Sirius doesn’t make you. He squeezes your fingers instead. “I want to take you.”

That’s the important bit. Sirius doesn’t care about the farmer’s market, or even really about the film. You know he only wants you to get up, to go anywhere and do anything at all, and you feel like shit for resisting him. You shouldn’t, either. You know how sadness can sink its talons in the longer it holds you.

“I’m sorry. Yeah, let’s go.”

“Don’t be sorry, lovely girl,” he chides fondly. “We don’t have to go if you won’t enjoy it. What do you want to do?”

You try to muster something for him, you really do, but after a handful of hapless moments you can only be honest.

“I don’t think I want anything.”

“That’s okay.” Sirius drops a kiss on your shoulder. “Hey, could you look at me? Please?”

You roll over, miserable and made more miserable by the aching tenderness in your boyfriend’s expression. This new spot on the bed is colder than where you’d been, but Sirius’ knee bumps against yours, his palm slipping beneath your head on the pillow. He doesn’t hesitate to touch you. Doesn't treat you like you’re breakable or wrong or contagious. His hand flattens under your cheek and warms your skin like he can bleed goodness into you.

“It’s okay,” he says again, softly.

“I’m sorry.”

Sirius tsks. “Now what for?”

“Making things so hard,” you murmur. You’re trying not to disturb his palm with your mouth movements.

“Sweetheart, nothing’s hard when I’m with you. I just want to be with you. We can just sit here and talk all day if you want.”

“I don’t think I’m very nice to talk to right now.”

“What does that matter? I know I’m awful to talk to half the time. We can be morbid bellyachers together.”

With some effort, you lift one corner of your mouth. Sirius kisses it rewardingly.

“You are a delight to talk to, by the way. Always.”

“A delight?” you whisper.

“Mhm.”

There’s a piece of his hair that’s arching over his face, all sprightly and mussed about by the pillowcase. You’re close enough that it moves when you breathe. You blow, and it tickles Sirius’ nose. He smiles.

“I don’t think I want to talk,” you admit.

“That’s okay.”

“I know I’m not fun to be around right now. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make everything miserable.” You look at the dip of his cupid’s bow rather than his eyes. “I love you.”

It feels important to say. Even when you’re dropping it in his lap awkwardly, like a plea.

Sirius tilts his head until his eyes meet yours. Dark lashes and silver pools, like moonlight glancing off water. “I love you,” he says, so sincere it burns. “I have another idea.”

You hum.

“We watch a film here instead. Or a show, whatever. But first, you tell me how to make french toast so we can have some for breakfast.”

“You don’t want me to make it?” You don’t want to, but you’d try for him.

“I want to do something for you.” He kisses you, soft and sweet. He tastes like sleep. “But you’re allowed to help if you like.”

Allowed amuses you, though you don’t smile. Sirius’ eyes glint like he can tell just the same.

“You do lots of things for me,” you say.

“Good. I’d like to continue adding to the tally; it’s how I keep my edge.”

You look at Sirius, thinking of how much you must love him for it to ache this deeply. Thinking of how he loves you, and how unfair it seems. He keeps doing it even when you give him every reason not to.

Sirius can tell you’ve slipped away. He strokes his thumb over your cheek. “So, what do you say, gorgeous?”

You don’t really want to eat french toast. You think you’d swallow battery acid if he made it for you, though. “It sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” He grins. “Okay, let’s go then, yeah? I’m starving.”

You give Sirius your hands when he reaches for them, and you let him pull you up.

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f1fantasys · 1 day ago

Text

Netflix and Chill Part 2

Warnings - FILTHY SMUT. that's it. You've been warned.

The motherfucker ghosted you.

You'd woken up the next morning, confused for a few seconds as you regained your surroundings. Normally you would feel the warmth of Lando's arm around your naked form, pulling you closer as you both shuffled to wake up. But today you had woken up cold. Pulling the sheets closer to you, you turned around, bracing yourself for whatever was to come next, good or bad. Except the other side of the bed was cold, empty, as if no one had even been there. Sitting up and looking around the room, you mentally cursed yourself for being such a deep sleeper. There was no sign of Lando. No clothes, no personal belongings, nothing. It was as if he wasn't here at all. Checking your phone, your heart dropped when there wasn't even a message from him. You held your ground for the next few days, not attempting to contact him, because, what the hell? So you threw yourself into work, busy as ever, and tried not to think of him.

It was now testing week in Bahrain, excitement in the paddock buzzing with the season about to start. You figured it would be impossible not to see the curly-haired Brit, but you'd decided to ignore him if you did. Why did he think it was okay to give you the best orgasms of your life, talk about a future, even though you could blame it on the adrenaline, and then avoid you as if you didn't know each other.

Day 1 went on without a hitch. You were covering Ferrari, so you were cooped up in their garage all day, and you were grateful all you saw of Lando was his back as he was walking out of the paddock.

Getting back to your hotel, you took a long shower, scrubbing off the smell of rubber and grease that'd gathered in the garage. You crawled into bed, desperate for sleep though you kept tossing and turning until your phone buzzed with a message. Seeing Lando's on your screen had you jolting up.

''hey, you good? sorry for being MIA, prepping for the season and what not..''

You took a few minutes to reply. You totally got how stressed and busy he was, but what pissed you off was how he'd left you sleeping in his room, bolted like it was nothing, you were nothing.

''i get you're busy Lan, but low blow leaving me in YOUR hotel room without so much as a fucking 'hey, I'm leaving, see you whenever'' you sent back.

His next message came in quick.

''whoa, relax. yeah? didn't think you'd react like this..''

Relax? Really? Was he really telling you to relax right now? You were fuming.

''react like what? Lando, we fucked and then you literally walked out in silence. how should i react?''

''i..yeah, dick move. i'm sorry''

Before you the chance to respond, another text came in.

''let me make it up to you? ;)''

Fuck this man and his abilities to turn you on with a few simple words.

''no thank you, i'm tired.

''y/n? saying no to my dick?''

''fuck you''

''i'd rather you fuck me''

Already feeling a wetness in your panties, you instinctively slipped a hand past them to slide through your throbbing folds, when you phone pinged again.

''damn, no reply for 3 minutes. she's touching herself thinkin' about me''

Damn him for knowing you inside out.

''stop''

''come on y/n, i know how needy you get. let me help you yeah?

''Lando'' you warned, though you didn't want him to stop one bit.

He obviously took it as you moaning him name, not warning him.

''i know baby. just imagine i'm right there with you, it's my fingers sliding through your dripping cunt. press two into yourself?''

You did as he said, gasping and arching your back off the bed as you thrust them in and out at a steady pace though it didn't feel as good as Lando's rough, calloused fingers. And when he saw you hadn't replied, he didn't hesitate to call you.

Whimpering, you answered, not saying anything but instead letting him hear what he was doing to you.

''Fuck, always love hearing you like this'' he said. ''Are you doing it? Fucking yourself with your fingers?'' he asked as you heard shuffling on the other end of the line.

''I am'' you responded, words coming through gritted teeth.

''Go faster, and let me hear you come more baby. Fuck I'm so hard right now''

You quickened your pace, breathless moans leaving your mouth. ''Are, huh, are you touching yourself?'' you asked.

''Yeah, fuck, i'm so fucking hard right now. Imagining your tongue on my cock, soft and hot''

''Lando'' you moaned his name, your tummy warming up, orgasm on the brink.

He quickly requested a facetime which you accepted, nearly tipping you over the edge as you saw him sat against his headboard, fist around his dick, pumping very quickly as he let out his own series of grunts.

''I'm right there with you, fuck. Think of my tongue now, going down on you. Licking up all your juices as I suck on your clit before thrusting it through your hole, fuck you're delicious. Are you gonna cum baby? All over my face yeah?''

''I-fuck me. I'm gonna-'' you started before your orgasm ripped through your body, your cum coating your fingers as you shook, the after effects taking control now.

Just seeing you let go to his words had Lando on the brink, his moans becoming louder as you watched cum splurge out of his girth and on to his stomach, sheets of white painting him as his body shuddered and tried to calm down. ''Fucking hell'' he groaned.

Both your chests were heaving, smug smiles playing your faces as you stared at each other through the phone.

''One more thing babygirl'' he said.

''Huh'' you questioned.

''Need to see you suck your fingers off. Taste yourself''

You did as he did. Sliding your fingers out of your cunt and bringing them to your lips, not before showing off the shine to Lando through the camera.

''Fuck'' you heard him mutter as you finally sank them into your mouth, moaning at the salty taste of your cum.

You licked them clean and released them with a pop before turning your attention back to Lando.

''Your turn'' you said, feeling your cheeks heat up at the thought of Lando tasting himself.

He groaned, and you watched him gather his slick on a finger before slipping it into his mouth, already clenching your thighs together at the sight of him.

Finally, as things settles and both your heart rates returned to normal, Lando sheepishly smiled at you while you internally cursed yourself for getting putty in his hands so easily.

''Tomorrow, yeah?'' he said, up and walking to his bathroom to clean up.

''Tomorrow'' you said, bidding him goodnight.

Needless to say, you woke up fresh as a daisy in the morning. That damn mouth of his, doing things to you without so much as touching you.

You strode into the paddock with a colleague, stopping my the McLaren hospitality to see if Lando was there. He wasn't, so you made your way to Mercedes, your home for the day.

George was speaking before you saw him. ''Someone's pucker'' he said, winking.

Your cheeks flushed, Lando must have said something.

''Shut up'' you mumbled as he walked in step with you. He was a close friend of Lando's, and they often spoke of their quoted ''love lives'' so rather, ''friends, with benefits''

You motioned to zip your mouth up and throw away the key before your breath hitched when you saw Lando walking towards you.

''Hello'' he greeted innocently, with a smirk that was anything but innocent.

''Hi'' you smiled, clearing your throat as George walked away with a smug look on his own face.

''Good night?'' he asked, as if he wasn't talking filthy over the phone not 12 hours ago.

''Meh, it was alright, could have been better'' you said.

He chuckled, a deep sarcastic laugh before he moved closer, lips barely touching your ear. ''I'll be looking for a different answer tomorrow morning, after i fuck you numb tonight'' he whispered, walking off behind you, leaving you blushing in the middle of the paddock.

The rest of the day was busy from the word go. You had been keeping an eye on how Lando was doing, his car seemed to take off right where they ended last year, if anything, better even. Just as you were wrapping up for the day, he'd texted you with his room number. ''Don't be late'' to which you reacted with a heart.

You had a dinner to attend, which seemed to drag on forever before you practically ran up to your room to shower and change, eager for him. You knocked a few times with no answer, so opened your phone to call him as you read a message he'd sent.

''In the shower. Door's unlocked''

You smiled and pushed it open, the noise of the shower filling your ears. Debating whether to wait for him or join him, the latter won out.

You stripped your clothes to be butt naked before opening the bathroom door, gasping when your eyes landed on Lando's hands pumping himself.

''Gonna stand there and watch or help out?'' he teased, opening the shower door you to step into.

Within seconds his lips were on yours, fighting for dominance as your tongues slid against each other. It was sloppy and messy, the both of you swallowing the others moans.

You could feel Lando's hard erection between your stomachs, his hands cupping your ass, massaging it tightly.

''Need to taste you'' you mumbled, roughly pushing him against the wall and sinking down on your knees while Lando didn't protest. He gripped your hair, pulling it out of your face into a makeshift ponytail as you kissed a strip on his bare thighs up to his crotch.

''Please'' he begged leaning his head back, mouth slightly agape as you finally wrapped your lips around his tip, swallowing his pre-cum and then sucking hard on it.

''Fuck me y/n. That mouth of yours'' he groaned when you started pushing him further into your mouth, pumping what you couldn't fit in. You hummed in response, the sensation causing his dick to twitch in your mouth as you quickened your pace, folding with his balls as his grip on your hair tightened.

''Fuck you take me so good. Where do you want my cum?'' he asked, voice desperate though none of your cared how quickly he was pushing to the edge.

He should have known the answer already. You were always ready to taste him, so you continued with your movements as Lando cupped your face and began fucking himself through your mouth, relentlessly.

And in a matter of seconds he exploded, sheets of warm, salty cum coating the inside of your mouth as he let out guttural moans, legs shaking and shuddering as his dick twitched uncontrollably.

You clenched your thighs together at the sound, taste and sight in front of you. Lando was slowly becoming your world, and to see him fall apart like that because of you, was doing things. Good or bad? You didn't know.

You stood back up and stood on your tippy-toes to kiss him, hard and deep, gripping his hair tightly.

He quickly turned the water off before picking you up, throwing you over his shoulders before stepping out of the shower, not caring about dripping water everywhere as he carried you to the bed, flopping you down before hovering above you.

You took his green eyes in, heart beating out of your chest because it was times like this that you couldn't believe he was choosing to do these types of things with you.

''I'm sorry for being such a dick. I was worried you'd think I'm a desperate fucking weirdo after saying all those things to you that night'' he said, thumb stroking your cheek.

''Lando, I literally want the same things as you, i told you. Please don't do that again. I'd thought you regretted all of it'' you said softly.

''Fuck, the only thing i regret is going all MIA on. I promise I won't do it again''

You responded by pulling him down and kissing him senseless again.

''I meant it. I want all of you.'' you mumbled between licks and nips of his tongue.

''I'm here now, not going anywhere'' he said, before hovering down your body and spreading you legs apart, a smirk taking over his face.

''Look at you, dripping for me'' he said, wasting no time in licking a strip up your sticky cunt.

You gasped, tugging at his hair as he started his onslaught, devouring your pussy, biting and sucking on your clit as he thrust two finger through you, hitting against your g-spot over and over again.

''Oh god, Lando, fuck. Fuck me'' you said between moans, gasps for air because he really was not going easy you.

''Cum on my face y/n, need to taste you'' you said, adding a third finger while holding your legs spread with his strong hands.

He didn't need to tell you twice to cum. In no time you were gushing your liquids all over, drenching his face in white hot sticky cum as your moans over took the sloppy sound of his tongue lapping at you.

When you'd realized what was happening, Lando was praising your name over and over, and it dawned on you as you looked at him, panic taking over your body.

You'd just squirted all over his face.

''I-oh my god, shit, I'm sor-

''What the fuck, y/n, how are you saying sorry right now? This is the hottest fucking thing you've ever done. I'm about to cum again just looking at you like this'' he said quickly.

You had no energy to argue, butterflies in your stomach at his words as he leaned up to kiss you again.

''Need to feel you, please'' you begged.

''Condom?'' he asked, having a feeling he knows the answer already.

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips as he slid his thick girth through your folds.

''Fuck me numb, yeah?'' you said, repeating his earlier words back to him.

''Fucking dirty mouth'' he mumbled before sliding into you in a single thrust, bottoming out while you held your breath, squeezed your eyes shut at the intrusion.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his waste and told him to move, capturing his lips again between breathy moans and guttural groans.

'Fuck, you're tight'' he said, picking up his pace, pounding into you, his dick continuously hitting the same spot over and over as your walls clenched painfully around him.

''Lando, please, faster'' you begged, his hand coming down to toy at your clit which immediately had your body shuddering underneath him, your orgasm ripping through you while he relentlessly continued pounding into you.

''Not gonna last long, fuck me'' he said, his moans pornographic by now, and the sound on skin slapping against skin filling up the room.

''I, I can't Lando, too much'' you said, cunt overstimulated.

He slowed his movements. ''Want me to stop?'' he asked, no etch of concern on his face coz he knew you could take it.

''Fuck no'' you said, already trying to move your body up and down to create some friction again.

He smirked as he resumed his pace, quick, hard, deep thrusts until they started becoming sloppy, his dick throbbing inside of you as you came yet again, your body like jelly, moaning out his name, and not a few seconds later you felt sheets of warm cum coating your insides as he came with a husky groan, shuddering on top of you.

Lando eventually collapsed on your body, the both of you shivering at the cold air coating your sweat-clad skin.

You could feel like softening inside of you, though no one even attempted to move, too fucked out to care.

''Your incredible'' he mumbled in your neck, his breath fanning your skin as your played with the curls on his head.

''Tell me that tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that'' you teased back, making him pull his head up, sheepish smile.

''Be my girlfriend?'' he asked, rather shyly.

''I'd love to!'' you said, unable to keep your own smile in.

You didn't know what to expect when his fingers tapped against your cheek, motioning for you to open your mouth.

You did so, your brain short circuiting when Lando let his spit drip down from his mouth into yours, smug smirk on his face.

''Now we're official, baby''

A/N - reverse cowgirl in this pic? YES PLEASE.

@sltwins @savagecatsuga @sheeesthings @dollyvuu @lilorose25 @htpssgavi @moonclaine @col4pint0 @dustie-faerie @ayap4paya @geometric-circle @martygraciesversion381 @screechingmiraclechaos @sarx164 @sunny-ln4 @cmleitora @brats66 @saythename-sm

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 smut #lando norris #f1 fic #lando x reader #lando norris smut #lando smut

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shadowgamerhalo · 5 hours ago

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My early child years I was a morning person, but the older I got that's when the shift happened. I became someone who woke up in the afternoon most days. How I was treated for this was horrendous. My several of my siblings would comment on or mock me for it, especially on the occasions i was awake in the morning. My mom often threatened to take away things just cause I couldn't wake up in the morning. And mind you I say couldn't as in, I tried to wake up in the morning, my body wouldn't let me. I often would say it knew how much sleep I needed better than I did.

When I started college it was absolute hell, my sleep schedule became so bad that I was sleep deprived during school days, sleeping well into the evening when not going to school.

On top of this, my body had the usual sleep problems, such as can't fall asleep cause of restlessness, seeing things in the dark, racing thoughts. And when I did sleep, sometimes I'd be woken up by nightmares, and some nights I couldn't sleep after them.

I had no control over my sleep, it was exhausting. I tried everything my family told me over and over to do, cause somehow if I did them, I'd be able to wake up in the mornings. None of them worked, and I hated every time someone mentioned how tired I was, mentioned my sleeping habits. I researched everything I could, until someone outside the family mentioned something called melatonin. So I went into more research with that and decided to take the supplement.

This actually helped me fix my sleep schedule, and figure out why my body was doing it. Firstly, children and teenagers need more sleep. Secondly, my body was trying to help me with my growing sleep problems, even if that meant I slept in more often. Thirdly, when I went to college it required me to wake up extremely early, when I normally would be sleeping, my body's circadian rhythm was thrown off badly because of this. Fourthly, I kept inside so much my body wasn't able to produce enough of the melatonin it was already low on supplies with, because of the very people who demanded I wake up earlier.

There wasn't anything wrong with my younger self waking up 10-12, I wasn't harming nobody, in fact those were my more restful days, when I was actually able to sleep as much as I needed to. Messing with my balance was actually what fucked with me, and my body suffered the price for it.

Now days my sleep schedule is forced to do mornings, however it's now a lot healthier than it was in college, as the melatonin sorts out most of the sleep problems, and being away from my family sorts out the others most of the time. And I have one day where I get to sleep in as much as I need to, and yeah my body wakes me up on that day normally at 10 to 11 am. Goes to show I'm still not a morning person, mornings are just because of my work schedule.

I still think it’s objectively fucked how the world is built for morning people and if you wake up later than everyone else you’re seen as a malicious aberration of some sort. I am that but it’s not because I wake up at 11 fuck yourself

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galaxy-stardust · 2 days ago

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Simon Ghost Riley x you

He can't sleep

The room is dim, bathed in the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. The warmth of sleep still clings to you, but something feels off. You shift, reaching out toward Simon’s side of the bed - only to find it empty.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness. He’s there, sitting at the edge of the bed, his back to you, broad shoulders tense and rigid. The air feels heavier, charged with something unspoken.

You don’t call out to him right away. Instead, you watch for a moment, taking in the way his hands are clasped together, his head slightly bowed. He’s deep in thought, lost in something heavy.

Slowly, you push the covers back and crawl toward him, the cool air brushing against your skin. Your fingers touch his back, tracing along his spine, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch.

“Simon?” Your voice is soft, hesitant.

He doesn’t flinch, but you feel the way his muscles tighten beneath your touch. A slow exhale leaves him, almost as if he’s trying to steady himself.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he murmurs, but his voice is off - low, strained.

You don’t listen. Instead, you move closer, pressing your cheek against his bare back, your arms circling around him from behind. His body is warm, solid beneath your touch, but there’s a distance in him that you don’t like.

“You’re awake,” you whisper against his skin. “And you’re not here.”

A heavy silence settles between you before he finally speaks. “Mission went bad.” His voice is rough, edged with something deeper. “Could’ve gone worse.”

You know better than to push for details- if he wants to tell you, he will. But right now, it’s not about the mission. It’s about this - whatever storm is brewing inside him.

Your hands move over his chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You press a soft kiss to the curve of his shoulder. “You’re home,” you remind him gently. “You’re here.”

Simon is still for a moment. Then, suddenly, his hands come up, gripping yours tightly against his chest. Not pulling them away - holding. Like he needs to feel you, needs to ground himself.

Then, he turns.

In a blur of motion, you’re beneath him, your back against the mattress, his body caging yours in. His weight presses into you, solid and heavy, pinning you there. His eyes are dark, unreadable, but you know that look - the quiet storm, the unspoken battle raging inside him.

His fingers trail up your thigh, slow, deliberate. Possessive. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice is low, almost a growl. “You’re the only thing that keeps me sane. The only thing that makes this life worth coming back to.”

Your breath catches as his grip tightens slightly, his body pressing closer, the heat of him sinking into you. His lips brush against your jaw, down to your neck, lingering there as he exhales shakily.

“I almost didn’t make it back to you,” he murmurs. “And that thought? It fucking destroys me.”

You feel the weight of his words settle deep in your chest. You reach up, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

“But you did,” you whisper. “You did make it back.”

His lips find yours then, but it’s not just a kiss. It’s desperate, consuming - like he needs to remind himself that you’re real, that you’re his.

And tonight, you let him.

Tonight, you remind him that he’s yours, too.

~~~~~~

The first thing you feel when you wake up is him.

Simon’s body is wrapped around yours, solid and warm, his arm draped over your waist, holding you close. His face is buried against the back of your neck, his breath slow and steady, ghosting over your skin.

He’s still here.

After last night - after the way he took you, claimed you, like he needed to drown in you just to stay afloat - you weren’t sure if he’d be gone by morning. Sometimes, when the weight of his past gets too heavy, he disappears into himself. But this time… he stayed.

You shift slightly beneath him, and his hold tightens instinctively, his fingers digging into your hip.

“Don’t,” he mutters, voice thick with sleep.

You smile softly, turning in his arms to face him. His eyes are still closed, but you can tell he’s awake now. The tension from last night has faded slightly, but there’s still something lingering behind those dark lashes.

“Not even to get up?” you tease lightly, brushing your fingers over the rough stubble on his jaw.

“No.” His voice is rough, his grip firm. “Not yet.”

You exhale softly, pressing your palm against his chest. His heart is steady beneath your touch, strong. Alive.

“I’m not going anywhere, you know.”

His eyes finally open then - half-lidded, still heavy with sleep, but intense. His gaze locks onto yours, like he’s searching for something, like he’s making sure you’re still real.

“I know.” He lifts his hand, brushing his thumb over your lips before cupping your jaw. “But I need you here.”

There’s something raw in his voice, something that makes your chest tighten.

“You have me,” you whisper. “Always.”

Simon doesn’t answer - not with words. Instead, he pulls you against him, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours. His grip softens, but he still holds you close, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.

For once, he doesn’t need control. He just needs you.

And you give him exactly that.

#cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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ellealyssum · 1 day ago

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put it all to rest ✦ sylus x reader ✦ fluff ✦ 900 words

insomnia's a bitch. good thing your man sleeps odd hours, too.

insomnia, cuddling, literal sleeping together, gn!reader

this is my first fic in many many years so please forgive me if it sucks... i have trouble sleeping and i love sylus so much

also on ao3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You turn over in bed for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. No matter how tired your body felt, no matter how many times you yawned, sleep was still evading you. Stretching your arm out from under the covers, you check your watch that you'd left on the nightstand.

3:56am. Three hours until you have to be up to get ready for work, if you still want time to brush your hair and shove some breakfast down on your way out the door, that is. It probably didn't help that the N109 zone was twice as far from the Hunter's Association as your apartment.

Pressing your face into the cool silk pillow, you mentally beg your brain to just shut up for five damn minutes. You didn't even have much to weigh on your mind tonight. The thoughts circling around your mind were all utterly trivial, but just enough to ward off the sweet relief of sleep.

What would the chef have ready for breakfast in the morning? Would the traffic be bad? Worse than usual? Have there been any accidents? They're a common occurrence in the N109 zone. People around these parts seem to love driving recklessly. Including the man whose bed you were trying, and failing, to sleep in right now.

Sylus had left around 10pm, being sure to give you your obligatory goodnight kiss on his way out. It was then that you had settled himself into his bed, expecting a restful night wrapped in soft sheets that smelled of soap and expensive cologne and him. He had promised you, quietly, lips inches from your own, that he would be home before you woke up in the morning. He didn't realise at the time that his promise was impossible to keep, because at this rate you would never have any sleep to wake up from.

Through the silence of the base you hear a door shut and footsteps on the tiled floor. You know from their rhythm that Sylus was home, as if he were summoned by your thoughts. He lets out a brief sigh as he reaches the bedroom door. Whatever meeting or deal he had just returned from had probably been tedious, as usual. Not wanting to concern him with your lack of sleep, you roll away from the door and focus on slowing your breathing. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

Sylus gently opens the door, being as quiet as he can as to not disturb you. Even after a hard day of work, your comfort was still his top priority. The lush carpet softens his footfalls as he makes his across the room. The gentle rustle of his shirt being removed and placed on the armchair reaches your ears. The bed dips slightly as he sit on the mattress, shucking off his shoes before reclining against the headboard.

"I know you're awake, kitten."

You should have known you can't fool him.

You whine in frustration as you turn to look up at him. You know your eyes must be tired and red, but he doesn't mention it.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" he asks, calloused fingers brushing the hair from your forehead.

"Can't sleep," you mumble, slightly embarrassed at your apparent inability to do something so simple.

"Too many thoughts racing around that pretty head of yours, hmm?" The corner of his lips twitch upwards into an affectionate smirk. He always said you thought too much.

"I wish they would stop," you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to stem the tears you could feel coming. The last six hours of frustration had reached a boiling point.

Sylus slides down the bed to be level with you, pulling you into his chest. You feel his lips against your scalp and his strong hands on your back.

"It's okay, darling."

You sniffle against his skin and try to wipe your tears with back of your hand.

"But I have work tomorrow!"

"That can be changed." His usually teasing tone has dissipated, leaving behind only sincerity. "Sick days exist for a reason. Besides, you really shouldn't be confronting wanderers on no sleep. I'm sure the association would prefer for you to be well rested."

You always had a hard time justifying taking a day off to yourself. Despite trying, you can never escape the feeling that you're letting your team down, letting yourself down, not being strong enough to deal with something as silly as an overactive mind.

As usual, it's as if Sylus can read your thoughts. He pulls back to meet your gaze.

"Linkon's Hunter's Association won't collapse because their star employee took one day off."

His brilliant ruby eyes are soft, as if pleading with you. You have to admit he's right.

"Stay," he breathes, kissing your tired eyelids. "Stay with me, right here, in my arms. Please, sweetie."

This man always finds a way to melt your heart.

You snuggle closer to him as he pulls the covers over himself. His slacks and socks are still on, but he doesn't seem to care. He'd rather hold you than change.

You place a kiss over his heart, winding your legs with his. The material of his trousers is soft and his body is warm. You mind slowly, finally, stops spinning.

Somehow, the world always feels a little simpler in his arms.

#sylus #love and deepspace #lads #lnds #l&ds #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sylus fluff #sylus ff #love and deepspace ff #sylus fanfic #mine #my writing

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keeryhours · 19 hours ago

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do you wanna come over? - eddie munson

Eddie Munson x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

You’re one of the most beautiful and popular girls in Hawkins, and you’ve set your sights on Eddie Munson. Little do you know, he’s a virgin - and also pretty in love with you.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), protected p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (m and f receiving), cum eating sort of, restraints, virgin!eddie, perv!eddie, drug use, getting walked in on

Word Count: 9.7k

A/N:

This is set up for a part 2, so let me know if you’d like to see that soon! Thank you @punkrockmlchael for my banner and for reading, and thank you @the-witty-pen-name , @fizzing-imagines , @losingmygrasponreality, @lesservillain!

Eddie Munson was your weed dealer and nothing more.

Well, occasionally shrooms. Or Special K. Basically, he was your dealer with no strings attached.

You weren’t even sure if you liked the guy. You didn’t know him. He was very…vocal from what you saw of him in the cafeteria, but he always came along with his small group of nerdy friends. You never saw him with a girl. Not once.

There was no way Eddie Munson was a virgin, right? The dude had done his senior year 3 times now, he was like 20 years old. You figured the girls at school probably just weren’t his taste anymore.

Why Eddie was on your mind so much lately was honestly beyond you. You had never thought of him much before, unless you needed some drugs for the weekend. But now it was like he was always on your mind. You even brought it up to your best friend, Chrissy, after practice.

“There’s just no way he’s a virgin, right?” You asked her as you moved into a split, feeling the muscles in your thighs stretching.

Chrissy giggled as she did the same. “Why are you so interested in Eddie Munson’s sex life all of a sudden?”

“I’m not,” you said quickly. “It just…doesn’t make sense. Have you ever seen him with a girl?”

“Of course not,” Chrissy said. “But who knows what he gets up to outside of school.”

Her words stuck with you. Because you wanted to know what Eddie got up to outside of school.

You found yourself fantasizing about it, dreaming about it. When Eddie first started making his appearances in your dreams, it shocked you. You had never been attracted to him until that night. You dreamt of him shirtless, tattoos exposed on his lithe body. He rolled a joint with his dexterous fingers and lit it, taking a long drag before handing it to you.

“Your turn, princess,” he’d said in a lower, much more suave voice than you’d ever actually heard from him. You grabbed for the joint but he held it out of your reach, bringing it back to his own lips and breathing deeply before leaning in and breathing the smoke out into your mouth. You had moaned against his lips, feeling his smirk against your own mouth.

He looked like a sex god. Sometimes he would grab his guitar and play you a song. Sometimes he would undress you and eat your pussy all night, other times he would make you worship his cock until he was satisfied and cumming all over your face. You especially liked it when he held you down and fucked you like your body begged to be fucked.

Then you’d wake up in a cold sweat, clit throbbing between your legs in a way that had you desperate to go back to sleep and let him finish you off. You’d have to face him at school again, just the usual nerdy guy you remembered.

You figured you had to make a move.

You approached him during lunch, short little green and yellow cheer skirt swaying as you crossed the room towards him. You caught his attention about halfway across the room and he did a double take, wide eyes landing on you as his friends turned to see what had distracted him.

“Hey, Eddie,” you greeted, a small smile on your lips.

“Uh, h-hey,” he said, smoothing a hand through his wild hair. It didn’t do much to tame the curls. “What’s up?”

“I was hoping maybe we could meet up after school?” You asked, your voice obviously flirtatious. One of his friends - Gareth? - raised his eyebrows at him, looking between the two of you with a barely contained smirk.

“Oh! Yeah, for sure,” he said. “The usual? In the woods behind the school?”

“Sounds good,” you agreed. “See you later…Eddie.”

You made a point to sway your hips as you walked away, and you could feel Eddie’s and his friends’ eyes on you. Your ass, specifically. You knew what you had been blessed with, and you weren’t afraid to use it.

That day after school, you snuck off and headed down the familiar path through the wooded area. The leaves crunched beneath your white sneakers as you walked, the October chill making you pull your sweater tighter around your body. No one was at the meetup spot when you arrived, so you sat on top of the table, legs crossed as you waited.

It wasn’t long before the crunching of leaves gave away another presence. Eddie approached the table, eyes locked on your form. God, those legs in that little skirt. He thought about what it might be like to spread them, to breathe in your scent and bury his face between your thighs. He had frequent fantasies of stealing a pair of your panties during practice and bringing them home, bringing them up to his face and breathing deeply, wrapping them around his cock as he fisted it, spilling his cum all over the pretty material. He had no idea what your panties actually looked like, but surely they were as perfect as you.

He carried his metal lunchbox, stocked with weed. His gait was slow as he got closer to you, taking his sweet time to drink in your appearance until he’d had his fill. When he reached the table, he sat the lunch pail down on the wood with a bang.

“What can I get you today, m’lady?” He asked, a playful smile on his face as he performed an exaggerated bow. “A half for 20, perhaps?”

“I’ll take a half,” you said. “And..do you have any more of that Special K?

Eddie slowly looked up at you with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, back at the house. I’ll have to get it. I could bring it tomorrow.”

You shifted from your position, crossing the other leg, and Eddie just about combusted on the spot as he caught the slightest glimpse of your panties. Pink and lacy, exactly what he pictured you’d wear. It completely threw him off.

“Hello? Eddie?”

Your voice snapped Eddie back to reality. “Shit, sorry. What?”

“I said you could bring it tomorrow.” You smiled. “Or I could ride with you to get it then. I just can’t tonight because of practice…”

Eddie swallowed. You really wanted to ride with him back to his place? Alone? “Uh, okay, sure.”

You debated making your next move, wondering if it would be too far, but you went for it anyway. “So, Eddie…I was just wondering. Do you ever take any payment that’s not…money?”

Eddie furrowed his brows. “Like what? Sometimes my car guy does work for me in exchange for weed, but…” The look on your face told him that’s not what you’d been talking about. “Oh, jesus, no. You don’t have to do that. If you need me to spot you, I can-“

“But what if I want to?”

Eddie just stared at you. “You want to…?”

“Oh my god, Eddie.” You spread your legs, reaching for his waist and pulling him into you. Your hand dragged across his cock over his jeans, feeling him already hard and even bigger than you’d imagined. “Why don’t you just let me make you feel good?”

Eddie’s knees felt weak, his heart thundering in his chest as you pulled him close to you. This couldn’t be real, he had to be dreaming. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d had this exact dream before. His hands rested on your thighs to hold himself upright - god, your soft, bare thighs… He started to speak, stopping to clear his throat. “You really don’t have to do this-“

You squeezed his cock through the material, making him moan out loudly. “Does this show you how badly I want to do this?”

His voice cracked when he spoke. “I- yeah, I think I get the idea.” He looked around, like he was expecting someone to jump out from behind a tree and literally catch him with his pants down. “You’re- you’re fucking with me, right? This is all just a big joke?”

“Eddie, I would never do that,” you said earnestly. Your brows furrowed as you looked up at him. “Have you really never done this before?”

“I-“ Eddie backed up, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “No, I haven’t, okay? I’m not like that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with-“

“No, I know,” he said quickly. “I just…I haven’t.”

“Why not?” you asked again. “Are you into girls? Because it’s okay if you’re not-“

“Yes, I’m into girls!” Eddie rubbed a hand over his face, like he was frustrated. “I haven’t…done things like that before.”

“You haven’t done things like this, or you haven’t done things at all?”

Eddie was quiet. Then, finally- “At all.”

You reached for him, your hand grazing his. He startled at the touch, the electricity that shot through his body at the smallest feeling. “I don’t care if you’re a virgin, Eddie. I just want to make you feel good.”

He looked back at you, letting you pull him close again. “Why?”

“I’ve been…thinking about you,” you admitted.

“Thinking about me?”

“Stop being so coy,” you teased him. “Do you not know how hot you are?”

Eddie shook his head. “No one thinks that.”

“I do.” You said it easily, quickly. “I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. Thinking about all the things I want to do to you…all the things I want you to do to me…”

“Yeah?” He said, his voice low and breathless. “Like what?”

“Just thinkin’ about you, and what those long fingers can do,” you said, fingers trailing along his own. “About your mouth, your tongue.” You ran your hands down his chest. “About how big your cock is, how you’d use it…”

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat. He could barely breathe when you talked like that. “You…you think those things about me?”

“Of course I do.” You brought his fingers up to your lips, gently pressing them there as you smirked up at him. Your tongue darted out and licked his fingertips and he groaned just under his breath. “I think about you all the time.”

“Why have you never, uh,” he cleared his throat again. “Never said anything before?”

You shrugged, continuing to tease the older boy. “Guess I just got the nerve up.”

Eddie scoffed. “You’re like the hottest girl in school. Why would you ever be afraid to ask someone out? Especially me?”

“You think I’m the hottest girl in school?” You smirked, placing his finger in your mouth and sucking on it. His knees buckled, his cock impossibly hard in his jeans at this point.

Your hands roamed down his chest until you reached his belt buckle. You looked up at him for permission, his heavy lidded gaze glued to yours. He nodded once, and you undid the belt, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zipper down painstakingly slowly.

Eddie whimpered as you freed his cock, the massive, thick length catching you by surprise. Eddie reached for the table to hold himself up as you wrapped your fist around it, slowly stroking him.

“H-oh,” he breathed out, hips jerking forward into your touch. His tip leaked precum already, the head a deep red and cock achingly hard. He twitched in your hold, telling you he wanted, needed more.

“Why don’t you lean against the table?” You offered, sliding off and leaving the room for him to sit.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” he said, moving to take your spot. He leaned against the wood, his long legs stretching to the ground. You sunk to your knees in the dirt in front of him, stroking him as you stuck your tongue out to lick his tip. He groaned again, knuckles turning white where they gripped the edge of the table.

You wrapped your plush lips around his cock and began taking him deeper down your throat. He cried out at the feeling, one of his hands moving to hold onto the back of your head.

“Oh, shit,” he moaned, head tilting back but not wanting to miss any part of what you were doing. “Fuck. Yeah, that’s…that feels nice…”

You swirled your tongue around the vein on the underside of his cock, paying extra attention to the head when you’d come up. He was a moaning, writhing mess above you as he thrusted his hips into your mouth, and you were pretty sure they would hear him up at the school if he kept this up.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he whined, his chest heaving. “Shit, that’s so good.”

You brought a hand up to stroke the seam of his balls, and his stomach muscles clenched, his cock twitching in your mouth. You massaged them in your hand, and Eddie fell apart above you, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna- gonna c-um, shit shit shit-“

That was all the warning you got before Eddie was shooting ropes of his cum into your mouth, down your throat, as he moaned loudly. It surprised you a little and you gagged at first, but swallowed every drop he gave you. You pulled off of him with a pop and he watched the spit trail connecting your lips to his cock.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed when you stood, dirt tracks on your neat white cheerleading socks and your bare knees. He awkwardly tucked himself back away as you brushed the dirt off your skin. “Um…thank you?”

You giggled. “No problem…Did you like it?”

“Did I-“ he huffed a laugh. “I mean, you made my dreams come true, baby. That was pretty fuckin’ awesome.”

“Yeah? Your dreams came true?” You teased as you leaned forward, rubbing his thighs over his jeans. His eyes shamelessly lingered on your body.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathed.

“I liked it, too,” you hummed. “Made me sooo wet.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Just from sucking me off?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “It was hot.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What, wanna see?” Eddie just watched you so you stood, turning around and bending over while lifting your tiny skirt over your ass. The small wet spot on your panties was visible from behind you, confirmed by the low groan Eddie let out.

“Christ,” he muttered.

“I feel bad I didn’t get to make you feel good,” Eddie said when you stood and returned to the table, sliding onto it next to him.

“Next time,” you promised him.

“There’s gonna be a next time?” He raised his eyebrows, like he expected this to be a one and done thing between you.

“Well, yeah,” you gently nudged his shoulder. “I don’t really just suck dick in the forest and move on with my life.”

Eddie laughed lightly. “That’s good for me then, I guess.” He snapped his fingers as a memory came back to him. “Oh! You’re coming to my place tomorrow? For the K?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Why, you got something planned?”

He smirked but just shrugged. “Nah. Nothing planned.”

“I’ll take the half, though.”

“Oh, yeah.” He reached into his pail and pulled the baggie out. “I’d feel bad charging you for this now, but I also feel bad not charging you for it.”

You laughed - “I mean, I won’t complain if you don’t want to charge me this time.”

“Then it’s on the house,” he smiled at you. “Thanks again, by the way.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you chuckled. “I wanted to. Believe me.” You stood from the table, shoving the baggie of weed into your bag. “I’ve got to get going…practice.”

“Oh, yeah.” Eddie seemed bummed to see you go, like he wanted to ask you to stay longer or tag along to watch you at practice. “You got extra, uh…socks?”

You looked down, sheepish grin on your face at the sight of the dirt. “Yeah. I do.” You turned as you began walking back to the school. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ed!”

“Bye!” He called after you, feeling like a total idiot.

Back in the school, you shed your bag in your practice locker and changed into a clean pair of cheer socks. By the time you joined Chrissy in the gym, she was giving you a knowing smirk.

“And where were you?” She asked innocently. She definitely clocked the remaining dirt on your knees.

“Just…doing some shopping.”

“With Eddie?”

You blushed. “Maybe.”

“Oh my god,” she giggled. “…Was he a virgin?”

You gave her a look. “Not for long.”

Chrissy practically squealed with laughter, falling over backwards. As the coach came over and started practice, you focused, getting your mind centered on practice and not a certain big-dicked virgin metalhead. But as you performed your tricks, tumbling down the mat and flying as your teammates tossed you into the air, your mind was locked on big brown eyes only.

The next day, you had plans to meet Eddie after practice and go to his place. You headed into the gym in your uniform with your bag over your shoulder, ready to focus on your stunts, but you nearly tripped over your own feet when you saw Eddie sitting in the bleachers.

No one watched cheerleading practice besides a couple of the girls’ boyfriends, so it was a shock to see him there. And you knew he was there for you. He gave you a small wave as your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help laughing.

You went on with practice, performing your back handsprings and tosses as a flyer. Eddie watched the entire time, his attention fully on you. His eyes followed you everywhere you went, amazed by the stunts you were able to pull off. Every now and then he caught the slightest glimpse of your panties beneath your skirt, and that was enough for him.

After practice, you lingered until all your teammates were gone. Eddie watched you curiously, wondering what you were up to. Finally when the last of your cheer teammates had left, you nodded towards the locker room, and Eddie’s eyes widened, but he jumped up to follow you anyway.

Eddie trailed after you into the locker room, watching the sway of your hips and ass as you walked. It was deserted, all of your fellow cheerleaders having already showered and left. You stripped out of your uniform right in front of Eddie, pulling your top off and leaving yourself bare chested. Eddie’s eyes practically bugged out of his head, your bare tits on full display for his eyes. You took off your skirt and panties next, throwing them on the bench.

“Let me go take a shower, then we can go.”

Eddie watched as you turned and left towards the shower. His gaze dropped to the pile of clothes on the bench - particularly the pink panties beneath your skirt. He thought about it - really thought about it, because he’s not that much of a creep - but he snatched them, stuffing them into his jeans pocket.

A few minutes later you came back wrapped in a towel with one wrapped around your hair as well. He watched you, amazed, as you grabbed some clean clothes from your locker. You dropped the towel right in front of him and his eyes took in every inch of your body as you pulled on your underwear then a pair of jeans and a shirt.

“Ready to go?” You asked. Eddie had to shake himself out of his lustful stupor to answer your question.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

You followed him out to the parking lot, duffel bag over your shoulder. He led you to his van, opening the passenger door with a bow. “Ladies first.”

You climbed in with a giggle, buckling your seatbelt as Eddie shut the door for you. He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the van. You watched out the window and listened to Eddie’s heavy music as he drove to his trailer in Forest Hills.

“Welcome to my castle,” he said as he opened the front door of the trailer for you. You gave him a smile as you walked in, seeing the living room decorated with baseball caps, the kitchen littered with trash and dirty dishes. “Sorry, the maid took the week off,” Eddie said as he quickly cleaned up as much as he could. You didn’t mind.

“You can come back, if you want,” he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the bedroom at the end of the hall. “It’s a mess, but…”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” you assured him.

You followed him into his room, taking a seat on his bed. He went searching through his stuff, finally surfacing with a baggie of powder clutched between his fingers. “Special K. Peaceful bliss, just moments away.”

You took it from him, passing him the money. You opened the baggie and collected some on your finger, bringing it to your nose to snort the powder. You held some out to Eddie, who snorted it off your finger as well.

A comfortable peace washed over your body quickly. You were feeling good as you laid back on the bed, the euphoria washing over you. Eddie laid on the bed next to you.

“This is some good shit,” you laughed. Eddie laughed, too, turning to you.

“You’re so hot, you know that?” He said, voice lowering as he looked over your body in his bed. “You are so fucking hot.”

You giggled. “You’re hot, too.”

“That’s not true,” he said, suddenly shy. “No one thinks that.”

“I do,” you said, your hand resting on the side of his face. “I think you’re so hot. And kind, and handsome, and funny and interesting.”

Eddie leaned closer to you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, and he was so close now his nose was brushing yours.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he told you as his lips moved closer and closer to yours. “My little slut. You liked sucking my cock out in the woods behind the school, didn’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed against him, his lips now grazing yours, pressing together in a needy kiss. “Loved sucking your cock. So fucking big, so sexy.”

Eddie moaned as he kissed you, his hand roaming your body, up your shirt and over your breasts. “Can I taste you, princess?”

“Hmm?” You hummed the question, mind hazy from his kisses.

“Can I taste you?” He asked again, lips moving down to nip at your neck. “Wanna taste that pussy, princess. I know it’s so good, so fucking sweet and wet. Please let me have a taste.”

“Okay,” you agreed as his kisses trailed lower, his lips moving down over your breasts and stomach, to your thighs. He settled himself between your legs, kissing all over your thighs and over your core through your light purple panties. He could see the wet spot on them, it made his mouth water with his desire to taste you.

He slid your panties down your legs, your pussy finally revealed to him. It was everything he imagined, so fucking hot, and bare all for him. He dove in, tongue sliding through your folds to taste you. You moaned, hand gripping into his wild hair as he devoured you.

Eddie didn’t exactly know what he was doing, but he was eager and excited and that made it even better. He teased your clit with his tongue, wrapping his lips around it and sucking lightly. Then he moved lower, tongue teasing your hole as his nose brushed against your clit.

You moaned, hips bucking up against Eddie’s mouth. “Feels so good,” you moaned, hands trailing over your nipples as Eddie ate your pussy like a man starved.

He started grinding his hips against the bed as he ate you, searching for friction against his hard cock. He rutted frantically against the bed, tongue buried in you as his cock throbbed in his pants, moaning into you as he neared release himself. All from the thought of what he was doing to you, the reality of having his face buried in your cunt, his rock hard dick rubbing against the comforter.

“Eddie, I’m g’na cum,” you moaned desperately as Eddie worked his tongue over your core even more, fingers pulling at his brown locks.

“Cum for me baby, please,” he begged, fully losing himself between your legs, tongue working against your pussy somehow expertly as your release neared.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Eddie! Oh god, Eddie!” You cried out as you came, hips bucking against his mouth as you rode out your orgasm on his tongue. He kept thrusting against the bed, but hearing you moan his name as you pulled his hair and grinded against his mouth set him off and then he was moaning, cumming in his jeans as you came down beneath his tongue.

He let you ride out your orgasm and then he pulled back, cheeks bright red and a wet spot on his jeans from where he came.

“Did you…?” You asked, looking down at his lap.

“Uh…yeah,” he said shyly, knowing there was no getting out of this with a lie.

You giggled, but there was no judgement behind it. “That’s pretty hot, honestly,”

“It is?” He asked, still blushing furiously. “I didn’t mean to, I just-“

“Couldn’t help yourself?” You trailed a finger down his shoulder, over his chest. He shuddered.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I just…can’t help myself when I’m around you.”

It was flattering. You loved that he was so weak for you. It made you feel powerful. “You’re so sexy, Eddie.”

He trembled beneath your touch.

That night, when Eddie was alone, he pulled your panties from his pocket. He wasn’t sure if you hadn’t noticed him take them, or if you just hadn’t cared. But he had them, and now he was bringing them up to his nose, breathing in your scent with a groan. He unbuttoned his pants and took his cock out, wrapping the panties around his shaft.

He thought of you. He thought about you wearing these panties during cheerleading practice, the way you’d do your jumps and spread your legs for anyone to see. The way you looked him in the eye just before you did your splits, like you wanted him watching specifically.

He began stroking his cock with the panties wrapped around his length, thinking of you. He thought about eating your pussy, the way you had come undone beneath his tongue. The way you had tasted.

He moaned your name, imagining you were in the room with him now. Imagining you were here riding his cock, tits bouncing as you bounced on him, taking every inch of his dick. Eddie stroked his cock faster, his release approaching faster and faster.

He came to the thought of his cock disappearing into your tight little pussy, the thought of finally fucking you. The way you’d be so desperate for it, legs spread wide as he sunk into your cunt, tits bouncing when he snapped his hips into you. It was enough to send ropes of cum shooting over his fist and all over the panties and his thighs and stomach.

Eddie was down bad for you.

It was a couple of days later when you approached Eddie at school again. His face lit up when he saw you, frantically making room at the lunch table and pushing Gareth out of the way.

“What the fuck?” Gareth asked as Eddie shoved him to the side, but his eyes went wide in understanding when he saw you approaching.

“Hey, Eds,” you greeted him, hand sliding around his shoulders in a way that gave him goosebumps. He looked up at you adoringly, big brown eyes full of something like love.

“Hey,” he greeted you back. “What’s up?”

You leaned over so you were closer to him, leaning over the table with your cleavage in your uniform top right in front of his face. “Do you have any shrooms?”

“S-shrooms?” Eddie asked like he’d never heard the word, too distracted by what was in front of him. “Oh, yeah. I do. At the house.”

“Could I ride with you after school to get them…?”

Eddie swallowed, completely lost in a trance, forgetting about his friends at the table watching this whole interaction. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Cool,” you smiled. “I’ll see you after school then?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie’s gaze was locked on you as you walked away, that little cheer skirt so short he could just barely catch a glimpse of-

“Munson!”

Eddie snapped out of his you trance to rejoin reality and his friends trying to catch his attention. “What?”

“What the hell is that all about?” Gareth asked. “She’s been talking to you a lot lately.”

Eddie blushed, looking down at his tray of food. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Jeff said. “Cheerleaders don’t just talk to us.”

“She just wants to buy some stuff. That’s all.”

The guys exchanged a look. “Soooo,” Gareth drew out the word, “are you gonna tell us who gave you all those hickies?”

Eddie froze, suddenly self conscious. He didn’t even realize they’d been noticeable. He pulled his leather jacket higher around his neck.

“Oh, come on, you can’t pretend we didn’t already see them,” Grant laughed. “Just tell us!”

Eddie looked around. “Okay, yes, it was her. But shut up! Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

The guys all buzzed with excitement, talking over each other as they leaned in closer to Eddie. “How the hell did that happen? What did you guys do? Tell us everything.”

Eddie shook his head. “Uh uh. No way. I’m not going to kiss and tell.”

“When I kissed Carla, you made me tell you everything!” Gareth protested. “Don’t be lame.”

“You kissed Carla Peters for 30 seconds in 7th grade,” Eddie reminded him. “I think we’re dealing with a difference in maturity level here.”

Gareth rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered. “I would tell you if I lost my virginity. It’s a momentous occasion.”

“I didn’t lose my virginity,” Eddie whispered. “…Yet.”

After school, Eddie watched your cheer practice again. The other girls took notice this time, giving you strange looks. You heard them whispering - “What is that Freak doing here? What a creep.” You felt kind of bad for subjecting him to the gossip of your teammates, but they all shut up when you left with your arm linked in his.

He led you to his van, opening the door for you once again. This time on the ride to his house you chatted, giggling at the jokes Eddie would make. He tried to give you a crash course on D&D, but it was all going over your head.

At the house he held the door open for you, and you slipped inside, taking a seat on his couch. “Um…I know I have those shrooms somewhere…give me a sec.”

You looked all around the living room as Eddie took off to his bedroom, searching through drawers and cabinets. You examined the wall of hats, all the different places they came from and things they represented. By the time Eddie came back with the baggie in his hand, you had just looked at the last one.

“Got ‘em,” Eddie said, handing you the bag. You slipped it into your purse. “Uh…do you want to stay and hang out?”

“Of course,” you smiled at him, watching as he sat down on the couch. You slowly walked over next to him, his eyes on the way your legs moved beneath your skirt. He sure was weak for the uniform, you noticed.

You stood in front of him, looking down at his nervous form. He looked up at you with wide eyes, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands as you stood over him.

You trailed your hands down his arms, reaching his hands and placing them on your hips. He gulped, like he was in shock. But his grip tightened on your hips, feeling the material of your cheer skirt under his hands, wanting to push it up and-

You climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Eddie accidentally let out a low groan, betraying just how far gone he was for you already. You could feel how hard he was, the bulge through his jeans pressing up against your core. You wanted him, so wet your panties were soaked. You needed him.

“Eddie,” you whined, moving your hips against him. He groaned again, grip tightening even more.

“You look so fucking hot,” Eddie said through a clenched jaw, like he was trying to hold himself together. “You’re…a fucking dream, Jesus Christ-“

You leaned in to kiss at his neck, biting gently and making Eddie groan again. His hands were holding onto you as tight as possible, like he was afraid you’d disappear.

“You can touch me,” you said, wanting him to. You wanted to feel his hands all over, wanted to feel him. Every part of him.

He let go of his death grip on your hips and slowly roamed down your thighs as you continued kissing his neck, feeling the bare skin of your legs. He remembered what it was like to taste you, and the thought only made him harder in his jeans. He wanted to do it again and again.

Next his hands moved up, slowly feeling your sides until he reached your tits. They filled his hands perfectly, making him moan as he massaged them. He was desperate to get his mouth on them, to wrap his lips around your nipples, to suck on them.

He reached down and pulled your cheer top up until he was dropping it on his living room floor. He fumbled with your bra clasp for a while before he was able to remove that, too. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of your naked tits, mouth watering. He dove in, wrapping his lips around your nipple and making you gasp.

“Eddie,” you moaned, pleasantly surprised at his boldness. He was learning fast.

“So fucking sexy,” he moaned as his tongue swirled around your nipple, the sensation sending chills through your body. “Can’t believe you’re on my lap right now. Pretty little princess has a thing for the Freak, huh?”

You giggled lightly, eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of Eddie’s mouth. “When the Freak is this hot…”

Eddie chuckled. His hands gripped your ass as he switched to the other breast. He guided your hips to grind against him, as if it was possible for him to get any harder than he already was. He’d never been this hard in his life.

You tugged on his shirt and he got the hint, leaning forward to pull it off. Your hands roamed his tattooed chest, feeling the muscles of his chest, the soft skin of his stomach.

“Do you want to take me to your room?” you asked him, your voice a mere whisper against his lips.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Eddie said, then you were squealing as he stood, lifting you up. He stumbled a little and you laughed, but he made his way down the hall to his bedroom, leaving the discarded clothes on the living room floor.

He carefully dropped you down onto his messy bed, landing with a giggle. He kicked his shoes off and quickly undid his belt. You watched as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, shoving them down his legs. You could really see the size of his erection with nothing but his boxers on, and it was just as impressive as you remembered.

Next he slid your shoes off, leaving the white cheer socks in place. He slowly climbed up your body, pulling your skirt and panties down your legs. With you now fully naked, he looked at you wide eyed. “God, I can’t believe I’m about to fuck you.”

“Can’t believe you’re about to fuck me, or can’t believe you’re about to lose your virginity?” you teased with a laugh.

“Both,” Eddie smiled. He placed kisses all over your skin, his tongue darting out to taste every now and then. You were like a drug - he was utterly addicted to you already.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked him as he reached your lips again, kissing along your jaw and cheek before pressing his lips to yours.

“Uh, I do, actually,” he said sheepishly. “Gareth bought them for me as a joke. Now I guess joke’s on him, because they’re getting used well before he gets to touch a girl.”

You laughed at that - “Well, works out for us, I guess.”

Eddie reached over into the drawer of his bedside table, pulling the unopened box out. He felt a sense of pride as he opened it, pulling out one of the foil packets. This was really happening. He had a pretty girl naked in his bed. Finally.

You pushed his boxers down as he ripped the condom wrapper open with his teeth, sliding the rubber onto his cock just like he’d learned in health class. He was grateful Gareth got the biggest size as part of the joke - but it fit perfectly. Ha.

Eddie leaned over you with one arm by your head and the other between your bodies, pumping his cock a couple times as he lined it up at your entrance. He took a deep breath he hoped you didn’t notice, then he started pushing inside. You gasped at the intrusion, fingers gripping his bedsheets.

“Jesus, Ed,” you breathed, his cock nearly taking your breath away already.

“What?” he asked, stopping his movements. “Are you okay? Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, no,” you assured him. “You’re just fucking huge. But keep going, please.”

His ego properly stroked, he began sinking further into you. He was barely holding it together, a whimper involuntarily escaping from his lips. You were so unbelievably tight, hot, and wet…it felt better than his fist had on his best nights, and watching your face contorting in pleasure every inch he sunk into you was unreal. He had to shut his eyes to keep from cumming right that second.

He bottomed out, and you had never felt so full in your life. None of the guys you’d been with had been this big. Eddie reached down and spread your legs wide, holding them open as he pulled his hips back and snapped them back into you. He fucked into you quickly, filling you completely with every thrust.

“God, you- you’re so flexible, fuck-“

His pleasure-drunk rambling would have made you laugh if he wasn’t currently splitting you wide open with his cock, and looking unbelievably sexy while doing it. He threw his head back, long hair flying backwards. You raked your nails down his chest, making him moan loudly.

“Feels so good, Eddie, fuck, even better than my dreams-“

“You dream about me?” Eddie huffed a breathless laugh. “Fuck, princess, I dream about you too.”

You smiled and opened your mouth to speak just before a particularly hard thrust hit your bundle of nerves perfectly, making your back arch off his bed and the words on your tongue turn into a loud, high moan.

Fuck, the noises you were making were better than any porn he’d ever seen. He didn’t know how he was still going, he’d felt right on the edge since he got inside of you.

“Your pussy is fucking incredible, holy shit-“

Eddie’s hips stuttered into you, his rhythm faltering. He adjusted you into a mating press, fucking you wildly as the most pathetic yet sexy moans left his lips.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie,” you moaned, gripping onto his arms tightly. They were firmer and bigger than you expected, and you could feel his muscles contracting as he put all his effort into fucking you.

“I’m getting real close, baby,” he said, his voice strained. His arms were starting to tremble, his thrusts more frantic and needy. “But I need you to come first.”

You reached down between your sweaty bodies and rubbed circles on your clit, your body writhing beneath him. Eddie let out another pathetic moan at the sight, his rhythm faltering once again, his thrusts getting harder yet slower, hips snapping into you aggressively.

“Ohmygod, Eddie, Eddie, fuck! Yes yes yes, keep fucking me just like that-“

Your orgasm washed over you in a wave, hips grinding up against Eddie’s thrusts as you continued rubbing your clit. Your other hand pinched at your nipples, and the show sent Eddie reeling.

“I’m cumming, oh fuck, I’m…I-I love you! Shit-” Eddie cried out as he came, his eyes squeezing shut as his cum shot into you, filling you up with his spend. He held onto you tightly as he came, it felt endless, like he could cum forever. His body was trembling, hands shaking from their grip on your legs.

Your mouth dropped open in shock at his words, but Eddie didn’t process it until he came down from his high, breathing heavily on top of you.

“Oh, shit-“ Eddie said, sitting up and looking at you with a horrified expression. “I did not mean to say that, I don’t-“

You just stared at him, and then you burst out laughing. Eddie blushed a deep red as you laughed, but eventually he joined in. The two of you giggled together, you leaning your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Eds. I’m not upset.” You held his hand, intertwining your fingers. “It’s a little early for that, but I like the sentiment.”

Eddie laughed. “I don’t know why I said that. It just came out.”

“The sex was that good?” you teased.

“Oh yeah.”

The next day at school, you stuck close by Eddie. You had decided to try dating, and you were unbelievably happy. You walked hand in hand, drawing the attention of absolutely every Hawkins High student. Chrissy’s jaw dropped when she saw the two of you, but then she gave you a bright smile - you knew she’d be in your corner no matter what.

You couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You had never felt so obsessed with a guy before, but you were head over heels for Eddie, and you didn’t care who knew or what anyone thought.

At lunch, you got your food and headed for the Hellfire table. You took a seat right next to Eddie, sharing the end of the table. Eddie beamed, putting his arm around you and pulling you into a kiss that was far too heated for the school cafeteria. His tongue slipped into your mouth, pressing against yours as he kissed you passionately.

The guys stared. Gareth looked at the others - “What the fuck?” he mouthed. Jeff just looked at him wide eyed, while Grant looked impressed. Mike and Dustin looked at each other, shocked.

When you finally pulled apart, you realized you had an audience. “Hi! I’m so sorry.”

Eddie didn’t look sorry at all. He looked happier than the guys had ever seen him. “Guys, this is my girlfriend,” he said with pride, introducing you by name.

The guys thought this had to be a joke. There’s no way you and Eddie had really hooked up, and there was no way you were together now. It made no sense. Yet here you were, all over each other like no one was watching.

You and Eddie shared your lunches with each other as you ate, the sickeningly sweet display holding the attention of every guy at the table.

No one said anything for a while, and you and Eddie were so caught up in your own little world, neither of you noticed. Finally, you got up to go get some napkins, and Gareth took his chance. He cleared his throat, and Eddie looked over at his best friend with a confused expression.

“Care to explain?” Gareth asked, the rest of the table watching on with interest.

“Explain what…?” Eddie asked, genuinely lost.

Gareth did a dramatic gesture towards you. “That.”

“What’s there to explain?” Eddie played with a piece of his food before popping it into his mouth. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Since when?” Gareth asked. “What the fuck has been going on?”

Eddie looked at your figure from across the cafeteria before turning back to his friends. “Since last night. She came over and we…had a nice night, and I asked her to be my girlfriend.”

“Did you lose your virginity?” Grant asked, the only one of the group who seemed excited for his friend.

Eddie glanced at Mike and Dustin, who were lost in their own conversation now. He nodded, and Grant held out a hand for a high five, which Eddie sheepishly accepted.

“Did she buy from you?” Gareth asked.

“Yeah…why?”

Gareth looked around again before he spoke. “I just…you don’t think she’s only messing around with you for the drugs, right? Cheerleaders don’t talk to us, they definitely don’t sleep with us.”

His words set a fire in Eddie, making him absolutely furious. “What did you just say about her?”

Gareth had never seen Eddie so angry, like flames flickering behind his deep brown eyes. ”Nothing, man. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

You came back to the table then, all smiles and totally oblivious to the tension at the table. “I got you some too, baby,” you said softly to Eddie, handing him a couple of napkins. Eddie gave Gareth another harsh look, but moved on.

When you’d finished eating, Eddie kissed you again, before leaning his forehead against yours. “Wanna get out of here, baby?”

You giggled. “Where to?”

“My van?” he proposed, voice low and seductive yet still fully audible to the rest of the table. Gareth pretended to gag.

“Sounds good,” you agreed with a mischievous smile, standing along with Eddie. He grabbed your hand as the two of you rushed from the building, leaving Eddie’s friends dumbfounded. Chrissy gave you a smile as you left, but her boyfriend, Jason, scowled and whispered something to his friends.

In the parking lot, Eddie opened his van, letting you climb inside before he joined you. In the back you immediately met in a heated kiss, pulling at each other’s clothes and touching each other everywhere.

You pushed Eddie’s jacket off before tugging at his shirt, smirking when he quickly pulled it over his head. He pulled your panties off, leaving your cheer skirt on. He quickly undid his belt and jeans and pushed them down just enough to free his cock.

“Turn over for me, baby,” he said, pumping his cock in his fist. “Want that cute little ass in the air, ready for me.”

You did as Eddie said, moving onto your hands and knees before lowering your upper half to the floor of the van. Eddie groaned at the sight, hands rubbing over the skin of your ass beneath your skirt. He hiked the skirt up around your hips, leaving you exposed to him.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked him.

Eddie froze. “Shit. No, I didn’t bring one.”

You thought for a moment. “It’s okay. I want you anyway.”

Eddie’s grip on your hips tightened. “Are you sure, princess?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice assured. “I want it, Eds. I don’t care if you don’t have one, I need you in me.”

Eddie groaned, pressing his hard cock against you. He thrusted his hips lightly, grinding himself against your ass. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, princess. You’re fucking unreal.”

You felt him press against your pussy, sliding between your folds and collecting your wetness on his cock. The feeling was like heaven for him, the memories of being inside you came rushing back, making his dick throb. He had to have you again. And this time he’d get to feel you raw? The thought alone had his knees weak.

He pushed the head of his cock inside you, the stretch already too good. You both moaned as he filled you, inch by thick inch. When he bottomed out he wasted no time thrusting into you again and again, a quick pace rocking the van right there in the school parking lot for anyone who came outside to see.

The old van squeaked as it rocked back and forth with the power of Eddie’s frantic thrusting, the windows fogged up from the heat you two created together. He used his grip on your hips to pull your body back into him every time he thrusted into you, making them all the more intense.

He reached forward and pulled on your ponytail, jerking your head back and making you moan. “Eddie!”

“Oh fuck, you like that, baby? You want me to be a little rough?”

“Yes, fuck,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as he thoroughly pounded you from the back. When he suddenly pulled out you whimpered at the loss, but he quickly flipped you over.

Eddie sat up on his knees, throwing his shirt off before he pulled the handcuffs off his belt. Your eyes widened as he looped them through the bottom of the driver’s seat and attached them to your wrists, pinning them above your head.

The way your body stretched with your arms up like that was a sight to behold. It put your tits on full display, his hands grabbing for them the second he started fucking into you again. The angle he had your hips with him up on his knees was intoxicating, his cock hitting your bundle of nerves with every thrust.

“Please, Eddie, harder,” you begged, your voice a whiney moan. Eddie obliged immediately, the slapping noise of your skin meeting filling the space.

“Fuck, look so pretty like this, princess,” he huffed, out of breath from his vigorous movements and the heat you were creating in the stuffy van. “Never thought you’d be tied up in the back of the freak’s van, taking his cock and begging for more, huh?”

No, you didn’t. You were just as surprised as anyone at your current situation.

“You’re so good, too,” Eddie moaned. “Your pussy is so perfect. Fits my cock just right. I’m so deep in you, baby, fuck!”

Eddie was struggling to hold it together, the feeling of you wrapped around him without the barrier of the condom was almost too much to bear. He spread your legs wide and leaned over you, burying his face in your neck.

He whimpered into your neck as he fucked you, his shallow thrusts quick and desperate. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly to his sweaty body. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him even closer. It was so intimate, and Eddie was losing it.

He cried out as his orgasm hit him unexpectedly, hips rutting against you as he pumped all his cum inside, balls tightening, giving you everything he had. He moaned your name again and again, shuddering on top of you.

As he came down and pulled out of you, freeing you from the handcuffs, he realized you didn’t get to finish. “Oh, shit, baby. I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you-“

“Eddie, it’s really okay,” you giggled, not upset at all. “I still enjoyed myself. I don’t have to- oh!”

Eddie cut you off by diving between your legs, his tongue licking between your folds. He could taste himself where his cum leaked out of you, but he didn’t mind. You had never experienced anything like this before.

You moaned, writhing beneath his tongue, pulling on his long, soft hair. He devoured you, tongue moving up to flick over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. His tongue was so long and so talented, he’d never done anything with a girl before you and you knew this, but you would never have guessed by the way he ate pussy.

Eddie moaned against you, slipping two of his fingers inside as his mouth focused on your clit. He pumped them in and out of you much like he’d fucked you, and it wasn’t long before you were clenching around his fingers, moaning little “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”s as you got closer and closer.

You came on his tongue, pulling hard on his curls and nearly screaming his name. If anyone was out in the parking lot, they’d know exactly what you were doing and who was doing it to you.

Eddie kept his movements up until you were pushing him away, overstimulated. He moved back up your body and kissed you hard, both of you smiling against each others’ lips.

Eddie tucked his spent cock away back in his jeans and collapsed against the wall of the van, still shirtless. You pulled your panties back on, straightening your uniform. “Do you wanna smoke?”

“Sure,” Eddie agreed easily, reaching into the front and pulling out an already rolled joint. He sparked it up with his lighter and took a drag, passing it to you.

As you smoked together, laughing and talking, Eddie felt like he was completely in love. But in the back of his head, Gareth’s words stuck with him, nagging. He didn’t really think you were only with him for the drugs, he was pretty sure you felt the same way about him as he did about you. Yet something about it wouldn’t leave him alone.

After practice and dressed comfortably in a t-shirt and soft short shorts, you walked to Eddie’s van with his arm around you. Your teammates gave you strange looks, but you didn’t care. You were happy.

“Hey!” You heard Chrissy’s voice calling your name as you were just leaving the building. You and Eddie both turned.

“Hey,” you greeted her with a smile. “What’s up?”

Chrissy looked awkward, uncomfortable. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure.” You looked up at Eddie and he smiled at you, bending down and placing a kiss to your lips. “Be right back.”

You followed Chrissy back into the locker room, which was deserted. Chrissy sighed, pacing back and forth.

“What’s up, Chris?” you asked, worried.

“It’s just…” She fiddled with her fingers. her nerves obvious. Like she was doing something she didn’t want to be doing. “Jason doesn’t like that you’re seeing Eddie.”

You blinked at her. Then, a laugh. “Chris, I love you to death, but I don’t really give a fuck what your boyfriend thinks.”

She winced, like she knew that was exactly what you were going to say. “Yeah, but…” She sighed again. “Jason thinks that it ruins the image of the cheer team. He thinks as long as you’re dating Eddie, you shouldn’t cheer. And he got the coach to agree.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your heart beat loud in your ears, your hands starting to shake. “What?”

Chrissy looked pained. “I know. I tried to talk to him-“

“Why does Jason Carver have any say over who’s on the cheerleading team?” you asked, getting worked up. “This is bullshit. I’m team captain! And what’s wrong with Eddie? Besides that he’s a little different?” You scoffed. “You guys are so close minded it’s sickening.”

Chrissy looked as if you’d struck her. “It’s not me, I promise. I tried. But everyone else agreed.”

You felt sick to your stomach. You hadn’t felt as happy as you do with Eddie in…well, ever. You couldn’t choose between two things you loved.

Loved?

“I’ve got to go,” you said, shaking your head. “Maybe try to talk to your boyfriend again. Because mine hasn’t done anything wrong.”

You turned and left, catching up with Eddie. He wrapped his arm around you again with a smile, but he could tell something was wrong. “What happened, baby?”

“Nothing,” you said. You didn’t want to talk about it or make Eddie feel bad. And you were sure it wouldn’t really happen - right?

At Eddie’s trailer, it looked like he had cleaned up for you. He seemed nervous, even as you fell to the couch with lips locked together in a passionate make out session. His hand was under your shirt, grasping at your tits.

“Need you again,” he mumbled hurriedly as he pulled your shirt over your head. “Need to be inside you.”

“You sure no one will be home?” you asked, giggling as he leaned forward and kissed at your tits.

“Yeah. My uncle’s at work, we’re fine.”

He pulled your shorts and panties down before shoving his own jeans and boxers down. He spread your legs wide, neither of you caring about a condom this time. He sunk into you, snapping his hips into you wildly. He was desperate for you, no matter how many times he had you.

He groaned loudly, face in your neck again while he pounded into you. Your nails scratched down his shoulders, eyes rolling back at the bliss he was providing with nothing but his cock.

You were so caught up in each other that neither of you heard the key in the front door, or the door opening. However you did hear the shocked gasp that had Eddie pulling out of you in a hurry, covering your body with a throw pillow and yanking his jeans up.

“Jesus, Ed!” the older man exclaimed, covering his eyes. “On the couch??”

“Sorry, shit, sorry! What are you doing here?” Eddie buckled his jeans back up as you hurriedly redressed yourself. “I thought you’d be gone all night!”

“Forgot my lunch,” the man said, his voice gruff. “‘n just because I work nights doesn’t mean you can…do that in the living room, for god’s sake, Ed.”

“Sorry,” Eddie said again, his cheeks bright red. “You can uncover your eyes, we’re okay.”

The man cautiously lowered his hand, looking at the two of you. “I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend.”

Eddie chuckled. “It’s new. Baby, this is my Uncle Wayne. Wayne, this is my girlfriend.” He introduced you by name, and Wayne gave you a friendly smile.

“Well, strange way to meet one another, but glad to meet you,” Wayne said.

“You too,” was all you could offer.

When Wayne grabbed his lunch and left again, you slapped Eddie on the arm. “You said you knew we’d be alone!”

Eddie laughed, dodging you. “How was I supposed to know he’d forget his lunch and come back?”

You supposed he had a point. You couldn’t stay mad at him - not that you really were to begin with. You cared deeply about Eddie, and you wanted to be with him. You just hoped that wouldn’t keep you from being on the cheer team.

part 2?

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glorioustidalwavedefendor · 2 days ago

Text

Me: I know your shit game, if I go to bed before 11:30 you will just wake up at 11:00 and then refuse to fall asleep until my alarm goes of, fuck you!

Body: But I am so tired! I need to sleep! I promis I will sleep ... all night ... I am so tired ... I am slurring my speech, I can barely cordinate please please please with extra sugar on top

Me: promis?

Body: *big inocent baby eye* yes uwu

Me: You will sleep?

Body: *big inocent baby eye* yes yes uwu

Me: All night?

Body: *big inocent baby eye* yes yes yes uwu

Me: until my alam rings?

Body: *big inocent baby eye* yes yes yes yes uwu

Me: for real this time?

Body: *big inocent baby eye* pinky promis

Me *goes to bed at 8:00

Body *at 10:00*:

Me:

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roosterforme · 21 hours ago

Text

Aim for the Sky Part 38 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley works out plans for an anniversary trip, only stopping to enjoy some Halloween candy and a little milk. Everything is wonderful at home, but when you're at work, you notice Indigo in closer proximity that you'd prefer.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, DILF Roo, pregnancy, smut, lactation kink

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley woke up on Sunday to his phone telling him that it was November. The month of his wedding anniversary. Almost two years married to you. He smiled as you continued to sleep soundly, sprawled halfway on top of him, drooling on his shoulder. This is how he wanted to wake up every day for the rest of his life.

Rose hadn't made a peep yet, and he wanted to let you sleep as long as possible after trick-or-treating last evening. The three, well really four, of you had traipsed all over the neighborhood, collecting candy which Bradley had eaten half of while rubbing your feet last night. His stomach was currently gurgling softly, but he wasn't going to move an inch until one of his girls woke up.

In the meantime, he used his free hand to continue his search for the perfect anniversary trip on his phone. He soon had it narrowed down to two options, but he wanted you to pick. He'd ask you when you woke up. He was just ordering a case of non-alcoholic pink champagne and some hot sauce when he felt your arm tighten around his waist.

"Roo," you moaned, arching your back before looking up at him. "What time is it?"

"Almost eight," he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose as you snuggled against him again. He tossed his phone aside in favor of letting his hand rest on your bump, desperate to feel his younger daughter.

"Rose isn't up yet?" you murmured, yawning.

"Not yet," he confirmed as you pulled up his old shirt you fell asleep in, giving him better access to your belly. "Is Nugget Part Deux moving around?"

You hummed softly as he caressed your skin, tracing a line down to your dainty rooster tattoo. "She's a little squirmy. She'll wake up more once I start moving." You yawned again. "Halloween must have wiped Rose out. She had a big night. But my boobs are starting to ache."

Bradley watched you continue to pull the shirt up over your body until your breasts were on full display. He bit his lip, whimpering softly at the sight of your milk beading on your nipple. "There was a question I wanted to ask you, but suddenly I can no longer think straight, Sweetheart," he panted.

You reached for his hand, guiding it up to your heavy breasts, eyes closing as his fingers met your milk. "Do you want to take the edge off for me?"

Bradley's cock was at attention, raring to go as he nodded. Dizzy with need, he watched you pull the shirt off and toss it to the floor before propping yourself on your elbows. "Jesus, fuck. I've never seen anything so perfect in my life."

You giggled, alerting him to the fact that he'd spoken out loud. "Come on, Daddy. Help me out here."

Milk dribbled down to the underside of your tit, and Bradley dragged his tongue through it. You made a delicious little sound as he wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked. Heaven. It tasted like heaven on his tongue. He was leaning on his hand which was planted next to your hip, and his cock rested on your thigh. You didn't stop him when he pressed his hips forward.

"Roo," you whined, running your fingers through his hair, and then gripping him at the roots when he sucked harder. "Oh!" You held him in place as he lapped up his reward. That's what this was. This was his personal treat for getting you pregnant again. A seemingly endless supply of breastmilk to enjoy. He knew it was for the babies, but you knew he loved it, too.

"God," he grunted, switching sides, rubbing his cock on your leg. "I'm fucking obsessed." His voice was muffled as he took your perfectly pert nipple in his mouth. You were tugging on his hair and simultaneously holding him closer as he tried to make sure he didn't suck you dry. But it was so hard to stop, especially when his balls tightened up.

He swallowed and released your breast, dragging his lips to yours. "I'm so fucking close, and you barely even touched me." You laughed against his kisses. "I'm not even fucking kidding." Bradley knew he was in no position to give you an orgasm until he got his out of the way, and he was almost shaking. "Can I give you a pretty creampie?" he begged.

You nodded, wrapping your hand around his cock which was grinding against your hip. "It's not like I'm not already pregnant."

"Fuck," he groaned, letting you guide him to your pussy. Bradley thrust deep as you settled against your pillow, spreading your legs further for him. You looked the part of the perfect woman, belly already swollen from how he couldn't stop fucking you full of his cum, coaxing him closer with your smile.

He came hard by the fifth thrust, hands braced on either side of your head as he panted your name, his hips fucking his cum deeper as he bucked against you. When you sweetly pushed his hair back from his forehead, everything in the whole world made sense to him.

"Oh, I know what I was going to ask you, Baby Girl."

You wrapped your legs around his hips. "Hmm?"

"Mountains or lake?"

"What?" you whispered as Bradley sat back to observe the mess he made.

"For our anniversary," he rasped. "I'm planning our trip. I just need you to answer one question, and I'll take care of the rest. Mountains or lake?" The first drop of his cum slid down to your asshole, and Bradley's brain shut down again as he stared. "Beautiful," he murmured, rubbing his mess back up to your clit.

He worked his fingers, listening to you babble about your anniversary. He let his body hover above yours, being none too gentle with his fingers when he realized that's what you needed at the moment. Your lips parted, head tipping back into the pillow, gasping until your voice was hoarse. As you eventually came around his fingers, you screamed the word, "Mountains!"

"That's all I needed to know," Bradley whispered, kissing your neck as Rose started crying in her nursery. "I'll get cleaned up and play with Rosie until you're ready to feed her. Take your time."

You waved your hand in the air, nodding wordlessly as Bradley kissed your forehead and climbed out of bed with a smile on his face.

---------------------------

The weekend had been luxurious. There was no other way to describe it. Sex and Halloween candy and Bradley cooking dinner. A beach walk with Rose and Tramp. A FaceTime call with your parents. It was perfect. You slept so soundly on Sunday night, Bradley had to wake you as your alarm blared for work on Monday morning.

"Oh, God," you groaned, reaching for your glasses while the baby kicked and Rose fussed down the hallway. You almost wet yourself on the way to the bathroom while Bradley went to hold Rose until you were ready for her. Your belly was tender, and you couldn't control your bladder. It was amazing Bradley couldn't seem to get enough of you, but you believed him. Because he'd been showing you.

Once you got yourself mostly ready for the day, you hustled to the nursery to find your husband holding your daughter. Bradley was wearing his gray sweatpants, and his hair was an absolute mess. His voice was still a little raspy from sleep as he snuggled Rose to his chest and bounced her around the room while she whined.

"Mommy's coming, Nugget. Relax. I miss her, too, but she'll be here in a minute." When you walked in, Bradley bounced her over to the chair so you could feed her. "Here's Mommy." He kissed her fuzzy head of hair before handing her over.

When you sat back in the chair, Bradley groaned, easing himself down to the floor at your feet. "What are you doing?" you asked, his arm snaking around your calf as Rose latched onto you to eat.

He kissed your bare leg; your uniform was the last thing you needed before you were ready for work. "Just want to sit here with you for a minute."

He went quiet with his cheek pressed to the side of your knee, and occasionally you ran your fingers through his hair. "I don't want to go to work," he mumbled. "This weekend was so nice."

"It was perfect," you agreed. "But your students need you there to instruct them."

Bradley shook his head, his mustache rough on your skin. "I don't know if I'm even doing a good job, Sweetheart. I don't think I am."

Oh, you hated Indigo. Hated the very thought of her. You hated that she wanted to sleep with Bradley. You hated that she made your husband feel this way. You hated that she was still lurking around North Island.

You held Rose to your chest and reached down to take Bradley's chin in your palm. His brown eyes were vulnerable. "You're a Top Gun pilot, Bradley. You're the best. Nobody else is going to be able to train younger pilots any better than you can. Now go make me breakfast and put your uniform on."

With another groan, Bradley stood, but he looked a little happier. "Whatever you say, Baby Girl," he whispered, kissing your forehead.

Now, you had your own conundrum to deal with. Normal looking yet uncomfortable uniform? Or comfy maternity tent? There was an obvious answer. You knew what it was. Your body was crying out for it. The tent was calling your name. But you couldn't. You just couldn't do it. Squeezing into your pants was a chore. So was tucking in your shirt. But you did it.

"I guess I'll just stand all day," you muttered to yourself as you ate the avocado toast and hot sauce Bradley left on the counter while he got Rose dressed. The waistband of the pants bit into your side when you tried to bend. This was probably the last day without the tent.

Somehow you managed to get into the passenger seat, and Bradley buckled you with extra care. "I'll drop Rose at the nursery," he said while he drove. "You can go ahead to your lab." He wanted an excuse to make this weekend last a little longer, so you let him leave you off at the door.

"I love you, Roo," you promised. "Love you, Rose," you told your daughter as she tried to chew on her foot. As soon as they pulled away to park, you saw Cam and Maria heading your way, so you waited.

"Oh my god, you're huge now," Cam gasped. "I haven't seen you in like a week, and you're enormous."

Maria shoved him as he reached out to touch your belly. "She is not!"

"Damn," he whispered. "What are you due? January?"

"April first!" you whined miserably, tipping your head back. "I know I'm huge."

"You aren't!" Maria argued. "You look adorable!"

"Your tits look phenomenal," Cam added, and you glared at him until he held the door open for you. "What? Lieutenant Commander Mustache is all over that shit. I just know it."

"Okay, you're probably right about that," Maria said.

Your entire body warmed as your friends reminded you of what you should have never forgotten. They didn't know about Indigo, and now wasn't the time to have a discussion.

"Let's grab lunch one day this week," Cam said as the three of you rode up the elevator.

"Sounds good," you promised, waving goodbye to them when you turned right to head to your office. But when your door came into view, you froze. Even from behind, you knew it was her, pacing back and forth like she was waiting for you.

This was insane. You had nothing to be afraid of. She couldn't hurt you. Bradley didn't want her. She'd been grounded. But you turned on your heel and rushed to your lab instead.

---------------------------------

Bradley had been having a wonderful day. He felt good about his class, and he got to see you at lunch. When you had to pop the button on your pants in order to sit comfortably, he threatened to hide your uniform if you didn't wear maternity khakis tomorrow. But other than that, it was smooth sailing. Until the end of the day when he stopped in the deserted rec room for some stale coffee.

With his cup in hand, Bradley walked past the couches just as the door swung open. Indigo strolled in like she was on a mission, and his stomach lurched as his steps came to a stop.

"Can I help you?" he asked. A slightly terrifying little smile appeared on her lips.

"I don't know, can you?" she asked, voice dripping with innocence. "Or are you still too scared to be alone with me?"

Truthfully, he kind of was, but he'd never admit that. Besides, you had no reason to doubt him now, so he simply stood there and sipped his coffee before clearing his throat. "Lieutenant Jeffries, it's not my responsibility to help you find ways to entertain yourself while you're grounded," he told her smoothly, and her bright blue eyes narrowed.

"I'll just sit in here for the rest of the afternoon. Lieutenants Trace and Seresin kicked me out earlier, claiming I shouldn't have access to the aviators' rec room if I'm not currently flying." Bradley had to fight hard not to laugh, but she kept going. "But both of their jets are in the air now, so nobody is going to stop me."

"Maybe you should listen to what your superior officers tell you," Bradley said, breezing past her toward the door.

Her sharp laughter cut into him. "Maybe you'll heed your own words when Maverick gets back and immediately ends my grounding."

Bradley hated how it always felt like she was gaining the upper hand. "Maybe you should call him Captain Mitchell," he tossed over his shoulder. "Call signs are for aviators to use, Lieutenant Jeffries."

The sound of disgust she made boosted his mood as he plowed through the door. He didn't want to linger in her presence for longer than was absolutely necessary. His quiet office was calling his name anyway. So was the mound of paperwork he needed to complete.

The hallways in his building were nearly deserted, so it came as a surprise when you were waiting by his door. "Sweetheart," he called out, jogging as quickly as he could with his coffee. He'd just been with you less than three hours ago. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you promised, tilting your perfect face up to look at him. "You missed me earlier this morning, and now I was missing you."

Bradley unlocked his door and led you inside. He spent the last forty-five minutes of his work day with you snuggled against him on his lap. His lips occasionally brushed your hair while he got through his paperwork with your arms wrapped around him.

---------------------------------

You bumped into Indigo randomly all week long. With nothing better to do, it seemed as though she made it her new mission to follow you around base more often than not. You'd taken to walking with Cat when you could, and one day Jake accompanied you to lunch. Honestly, you were a little surprised Indigo hadn't simply moved on to another hot officer older than her. Jake would have been a good candidate, which would have been hilarious. Cat would shred Indigo to bits without a second thought.

Cat was busy conducting her aircraft investigation and collecting data from Indigo's Super Hornet which left you conveniently in the lab most of the time. But when Bickel asked you to meet with a mechanic to talk about a new installation technique for a communications component, you found yourself in the busy hangar in your maternity tent.

If the mechanic thought you looked ridiculous, he didn't say a word about it. You'd decided that being comfortable was better than having marks on your sides from your regular pants when you got undressed after work. Now you had no problem breezing through your conversation and leaving the engine parts in the very capable hands of the Top Gun mechanic crew.

You headed back out onto the tarmac, glancing at the tower and Bradley's building. The November sun was glorious. It was hard to miss the east coast on a day like this when the weather in San Diego was pure perfection. But pausing to close your eyes and turn your face to the sky was a mistake.

"Hello, Lieutenant Commander." That voice gave you a chill before you even opened your eyes to see Indigo heading your way. Her face was expressionless, but her tone was cold as she stomped to a stop in front of you. "I would say it's nice to see you, but that would be a lie."

You pressed your lips together, swallowing hard as her blue eyes flashed with something that made your skin crawl. She was so beautiful and so angry, and you hated her so much. "For someone who doesn't want to see me, you sure have been following me around a lot this week," you bit back before considering your words.

"Don't flatter yourself," she replied smoothly. "The last thing I want to look at is your ridiculous uniform."

You loathed her. But now you could translate her words to their true meaning. She was devastatingly jealous of you. A smile curled along your lips as you cradled your belly. Goading her wasn't your best move, but you couldn't stop yourself. "I think I'll just go hang out in the aviators' rec room with my husband and the others. Isn't it funny that I've never piloted an aircraft, but I've also never been kicked out of their lounge?"

She ground her teeth together as you tried not to smile. When Jake told you what he and Nat had done, you'd been in stitches.

"I know you think you're hot shit around here," she snarled, prompting you to take a step back. And that's when she pounced. "But you don't have the power to ground me indefinitely."

"Actually, I do," you replied loudly, fingers curling into fists. "Your aircraft is under my jurisdiction. I'm in charge of the quality of the comms network and components. I am in control of things no matter how much you want to be. And the same goes for my husband."

You were immediately met with silence as her cheeks burned red, clashing with the color of her eyes. You couldn't remember the last time someone looked like they wanted to hit you. As long as she went for your face and not your belly, you'd welcome it. Anything to get her the fuck away from you and your friends and your family.

"As soon as Maverick comes back, you'll be history," she threatened, bumping your shoulder as she stormed away.

------------------------------

Roo loves milk with his candy. And Indigo has a lot of nerve talking to BG that way. Mav is practically family! Maybe I'll let Indigo find out exactly what happens when Mav gets back.

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todays-xkcd · 3 hours ago

Text

The most awkward part is when you have to pause to put on your shoes before you continue rolling out the door.

Excusing Yourself [Explained]

Transcript

[Caption above the panel:] Ways to leave a social interaction:

[An arrow pointing towards the right is shown below the caption. Caption above arrow:] Less polite

[First Panel: From left to right, Ponytail, White Hat, and Megan are sitting at a table with half-full glasses on it. Megan is looking down at her phone.] Megan: Oh, gosh, I can't believe how late I've kept you up! I have to wake up early, so I should really go soon. Megan: Can I help tidy up?

[Second Panel: White Hat and Cueball are sitting at a table (only the right half is shown, so Ponytail may be presumed to be in the left chair as in the first panel), on which there are half-full glasses and a plate.] Cueball: It's been great, but I'm tired and need to sleep.

[Third Panel: White Hat and Black Hat are sitting at a table (again, Ponytail may be in the left chair), with two plates and a half-full wine glass at White Hat's spot. Black Hat's arm is resting on his chair.] Black Hat: We're about done having fun, right? Black Hat: Everyone looks bored. Black Hat: And tired.

[Fourth Panel: Ponytail, White Hat are sitting at the table. Megan is shown in a sequence of actions]

[Action 1: Megan kicks the table, spilling the drinks on it and causing her chair to topple backwards:] Kick Megan: Bye.

[Action 2: Megan and her chair crash to the floor.] Crash [Action 3: Megan rolls away from the table. She is now upside down and crouched on the floor.]

#xkcd #xkcd 3057 #excusing yourself #politeness #webcomics

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mvrlqni · 3 days ago

Text

꩜ — ❝ 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 ❞

pairing — lee byung hun x co-star ! reader

synopsis — taking a flight home from touring, thinking you had spent your birthday just flying, you come home to find a lovely surprise.

warnings — a lot of fluff, kissing, swearing, age gap, lee byung hun is 54, reader is in her late 20’s or early 30’s, proofread but might have mistakes, i don’t really know lol

wc — 1.7k

AN — it’s my birthday so I thought i’d just write a little smth ! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

a tired sigh left you as you escaped the crowd of fans and was rushed into your car by you security. after making sure your bags were in the trunk, the security signalled for your chauffeur to drive off as they entered their own car, following after.

“nice plane ride, ms l/n?” your chauffeur, mr alfred, a nice elderly man spoke as you shrugged in reply.

“tiring…such a shame i wasted my birthday by doing nothing…”

mr alfred chuckled and glanced at you through the rearview mirror. “im sure everything will settle down once we arrive home.”

you hummed, not paying attention to his words as you rested your head against the window and closed your eyes.

the drive was silent after that, mr alfred leaving you to rest as you were understandably tired, flying place to place and always on the move.

the gates to your house swung open, and the cars followed in after yours. the gravel in the driveway made the entrance a bit bumpy, causing you to bump your head against the window and wake you up.

a muttered curse escaped your lips as you rubbed your head before taking a look around your home. you had to admit, during the multiple plane rides you felt somewhat homesick and so you were grateful to be back home again.

“welcome home, ms l/n.” mr alfred smiled as he parked the car and got out, opening your door to help you out.

you stretched and yawned before moving to the trunk to get your luggage. you were definitely going to sleep after a nice, hot shower. mr alfred stopped you when the trunk opened, gently pushing you aside.

“no, no, it’s fine, ms l/n, i can handle the luggage.” you were about to speak up before his insistence became too much and you begrudgingly moved aside to let the old man take your luggage. “go inside, ms l/n, i’ll handle it.”

you sighed but nodded and made your way to the front door. the door creaked as you pushed it open and stepped inside. it was eerily quiet and none of your cats were around.

making your way further into the home and turning on the lights, you entered the living room. reaching for the light switch, you flicked it on as party poppers went off and a large group of people suddenly jumped out and yelled—

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

“AHH FUCK!”

a chorus of giggles and laughter erupted as your heart pounded before settling down as you made out the different people in your home. byung-hun, jung-jae, yu-ri, ho-yeon, ha-joon, and even the director, dong-hyuk was all in your living room.

“holy shit, nearly gave me a heart attack.”

a knee buckling chuckle could be heard from the crowd before byung-hun wrapped his arms around you, that sweet smile of his stuck on his face.

“happy birthday, sweetheart.” you blushed and stammered over yourself like a fool whilst dong-hyuk, curse that sweet man, clapped and took a photo.

“i—thank you— how did you all get in here??” you questioned and jung-jae grinned.

“your driver let us in, very nice man he is.”

byung-hun, meanwhile, was completely focused on you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before finally removing his arms around you.

yu-ri went for a hug when byung-hun pulled away. you giggled at how tightly she hugged you. “how were the interviews??”

“fun, you know how they are, but it was different without you guys.” you admitted.

“i haven’t been to one of your interviews!” ho-yeon exclaimed while you pull her into a hug.

“maybe someone shouldn’t have died.”

“hey, blame it on the man himself over there!”

laughter erupted again as ho-yeon pointed to the director, a mischievous grin on his face.

you took the time to realise how your living room was filled with balloons, the floor covered in littering from the party poppers.

“why are you all dressed so fancy?” you scoffed and smiled, glancing at byung-hun in his suit. he smirked and gently wiped off some of the littering from the party poppers off your hair.

“we plan on taking you to a restaurant which—” he paused, looking at his watch. “is nearly time for the reservation we have. you have twenty minutes to get ready.

guess plan of falling asleep after your shower was down the drain.

surprisingly, you managed to get ready in time, wearing white silk dress with your hair in a half up, half down hairdo and a matching bow. As you came into view, byung-hun’s cheeks flushed red, flustered at how gorgeous you looked in that dress.

“you look beautiful.” he murmured, flashing you his smile before kissing your cheeks.

you were all then separated into different cars, it had turn out that their cars were parked behind your home so you wouldn’t see them when you had arrived. you of course went with byung-hun. the car ride was eventful—you felt as if you never wanted it to end with how often byung-hun smiled at you, his laughter every time you made a joke, he was perfect.

the restaurant they had made a reservation at was a fancy one of course, byung-hun took your hand as he lead you out the car, the others seemingly inside already.

“what took you guys so long?” ha-joon asked, raising a brow when you both found the private table.

“i saw byung-hun turn the other way at the stop…which means he purposefully took the long way.” yu-ri explained with a cheeky smile, meanwhile, byung-hun faltered and blushed.

“i did not, i went the correct way.”

“nuh-uh, that way takes longer than the one we were supposed to take.”

byung-hun merely grumbled and took his seat beside you, his features softening when you giggled once again. “was that funny, darling?”

“maybe.”

he rolled his eyes and held back a smile, watching as jung-jae and ho-yeon suddenly started bickering on what they wanted to order on the menu, meanwhile you and byung-hun had taken another menu, looking at it together.

everyone was stuffed after eating, jung-jae was a tad bit drunk from the amount of soju he drank so now dong-hyuk was watching him. you were all still at the restaurant, joking around and having a good time. byung-hun was also making sure you weren’t drinking too much, keeping a close eye on you as he did.

despite the group claiming how full they were, there was still the cake to come out. ho-yeon and yu-ri had gotten the cake commissioned and picked it up earlier that day before you arrived. when they had gotten to the restaurant, the staff kept the cake in their fridge before bringing it out.

ha-joon had called a waitress over, murmuring to her before the waitress left. when the waitress came back, she, followed by other waiters and waitresses, held a cake in her hands. the cake being a sponge cake with strawberry on top.

included on the cake was also a picture of byung-hun attached to a stick that stabbed the cake. he immediately groaned and glared at the two girls, his phone (that he had taken out to record) subtly put down.

“i never mentioned anything about putting my face on the cake.” he stated, sending the two girls a stern look before you interrupted him with a chuckle.

“why not? i’d love to eat a cake with your face on it…”

he froze and blushed before grumbling under his breath and smiling at you.

the cake was set down onto the table and the candles were lit up. you watched, tears welling in your eyes before you laughed it off as everyone sang to you.

when they were done singing, byung-hun, smiled at you once again. “don’t forget to make a wish.” he whispered.

you laughed but did make a wish, blowing out the candles afterwards with jung-jae clapping loudly. “thank you, everyone, for doing this— i am eternally grateful to have you all by my side, i really love you all so much.” you claimed, tears welling up in your eyes again before byung-hun wrapped his arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to wipe the tears away, before placing a kiss on your cheek.

“byung-hun has a gift for you!!!” jung-jae nearly yelled, his words slurring a bit. dong-hyuk sighed, quickly shushing him.

“i was just getting to that, jung-jae.” byung-hun grumbled before ha-joon passed him something. byung-hun placed a teddy bear in your lap. you raised a brow and laughed a bit, glancing at the teddy bear.

“how cute.”

“oh hush, darling, this is only the beginning of my many gifts.”

somehow, you all managed to finish the cake despite the amount of food you all ordered and now, the group decided to go for a walk. byung-hun stayed close to you, his heart melting as you held the teddy bear close.

his eyes were practically on you the whole time and as it got colder, he eventually took off his jacket, offering it to you. you smiled and accepted it of course, allowing him to place his jacket over your shoulders.

dong-hyuk began reminiscing when they had first started shooting squid game—back in 2021. he rambled on and eventually bought up a haunting memory you have tried forgetting. the first time you had met byung-hun, you were a fan, a huge fan. you gushed over him to jung-jae on set when byung-hun was standing right behind you, hearing everything.

you groaned and blushed in embarrassment as everyone started to talk about your embarrassing moments. byung-hun contributed which caused you to jump at him, an attempt to shut him up.

after the walk, everyone parted ways, bidding each other goodnight. byung-hun drove you back home, a hand resting on your thigh as he did.

when you had arrived back at your place he walked you to the front door.

“thank you…for everything, byung-hun.” you spoke, your tone soft and your smile so sweet he felt like melting. “i really appreciate you…”

something inside of him took control and he pulled you into his arms, his lips smashing against yours.

your eyes widened but you quickly closed them, kissing him back. he groaned against your mouth and shoved his tongue inside.

you two made out for a few good minutes or so before pulling away, the both of you panting heavily. your lips were swollen and more reddish than usual from his assault on your lips. you bit your lip and glanced up at him with that innocent look in your eyes when really you were no where close to innocent.

“spend the night…”

he held his breath back as you asked him to stay the night. he groaned and rested his forehead against yours before nodding.

“anything for you…”

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tastykeratin · 24 hours ago

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Is anything real? Are these hints to some sleeping dreaming god that it's time to wake up and they just aren't listening? I don't know, but it is tacky and stupid as shit. Imagine your god being this stupid and incoherent.

Big day for deranged evangelical freaks

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aureatelys · 2 days ago

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as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader w.c.: 6k a/n: inspired by that one gifset of hotch desperately needing some moisturizer on his neck im so sorry. also my first time writing hotch's pov, pls be gentle. c.w.: fluff! friends to lovers, kinda sunshine/girly!reader, mutual pining, alcohol mention, author pretending like they know about skincare, hotch is whipped and touch starved af, no y/n

summary:

You think Hotch needs to take better care of himself. Hotch doesn't know what to think. Or, 5 times you teach Hotch about skincare more than he wants to and 1 time he teaches you.

read below or ao3 here

one.

When Hotch first walks into the conference room ready to go over a new case, there’s something different that he can’t quite put his finger on.

Words dying in his throat, he sweeps his eyes over the entire room and doesn’t see anything significantly out of place. Then he’s passing over everyone’s faces, mentally keeping a note on how exhausted most of them are looking, and then landing on you.

Having only joined a couple of months ago, you were still fairly new to the team. However, with your sunny disposition and eagerness to learn, you blended right in. Hotch had watched in amusement as you were able to keep up with Reid’s ramblings, Morgan’s flirting, and Garcia’s antics. You were insightful, able to give new perspectives that Hotch would never have even considered, patient with victims and their families, and Hotch admired you for that.

Today, however, you look considerably suspicious as you give him a sheepish smile and a little wave. “Morning, Hotch,” you say, eyes sparkling, followed by a round of greetings from the rest of the team.

“Morning.” And then he spots a machine on the table near the wall, shaped and designed like a cat and spouting off what looks like steam at a steady and continuous rate.

Now that he’s noticed it, he realizes the conference room feels significantly stickier, the sudden humidity a stark contrast to the dry winter air outside. He can sense the slight congestion he’s been waking up to the past several months gradually disappearing.

“It’s a humidifier,” you explain after spotting the slightly confused expression Hotch was wearing, as if he’s never seen one before. To be fair, he doesn’t think he’s seen one in years as Haley was usually the one who dug it out of storage when Jack wasn’t feeling well. “I brought it from home, I thought it was a little dry in here. Is that okay?”

“I hope so, I was worried about getting a nosebleed the other day.”

“It’s good to have it around during this time of year, Hotch. Did you hear Anderson coughing this morning?”

“It’s also beneficial to have one on while you sleep, both with the white noise and being able to clear your sinuses and breathe easier with its optimal humidity levels.”

Truthfully, Hotch doesn’t care and he’s sure there isn’t some ridiculous regulation about not allowing a small humidifier, especially when Garcia has two space heaters in her office that you’ve had to ask to borrow at least twice a week.

However, the way you’re glancing up at him now from your spot at the round table, eyes wide and fluffy pink scarf wrapped around you because you apparently run colder than the rest of the team, Hotch would probably let you get away with anything.

He immediately sets that thought aside, not wanting to dwell on exactly what that means right now. He takes the only empty seat left that just happened to be right next to you, making sure to keep a respectable distance. “It’s fine. Just make sure to turn it off and empty it before we go.”

You give him a blinding smile that momentarily distracts him from the bubbling humidifier and the clouds of mist that are nearly falling into his face. “Sure thing. Did you know that it can also help with dry skin? So technically, we’re just taking care of our bodies if they ask why we need it.”

Although it makes sense now that he thinks about it, Hotch didn’t know that. He also doesn’t remember the last time he put on lotion or moisturizer, no matter how dry his hands felt.

Just then, Garcia wobbles in with her yellow heels and coffee mug, immediately launching into the brutal details of the case and where the team will be headed out to for the next couple of days.

When Hotch gets up to grab his go-bag from the office, he tries to ignore how it feels like he can breathe a little bit easier.

two.

“God, it’s freezing in here.”

Hotch glances up from his laptop mid-report to witness you taking the seat next to his with a resounding oof. You’re wrapped up in a blanket that you had brought from home that has somehow taken permanent residence on the jet, shivering despite the heater being on full blast. The corner of it lands on his knee, soft and warm.

The team had just finished a case in rural Montana, surrounded by mountains of snow and the wilderness. You had remembered to pack warmly at least, as Hotch had witnessed you struggling to take off the several layers of sweaters every time you arrived at the precinct. He remembers frowning in the car on the way to apprehend the unsub as you shivered in the passenger seat, having had to wear only a layer or two due to the bulky Kevlar vest and needing to be quick on your feet.

“It’ll warm up here in a second,” Hotch says, already wracking around his brain to see if there was another blanket hidden in a compartment somewhere. “A cup of tea will probably help.”

You slouch down further in your seat, cocooning yourself even further under the thick blanket. “I don’t want to get up.”

Hotch is almost tempted to lock his computer and get up to make you that cup of tea himself, however he glances around the cabin and notices several knowing pairs of eyes on him. He doesn’t have to be a profiler to know what the rest of the team thinks—that he’s gone soft on you.

You with your fuzzy blue blanket wrapped around your shoulders like a cape and the thick socks that you put in your bag specifically for the plane ride home. He knows he’s not imagining the lingering glances you throw at Hotch or the way you occasionally stay late as an excuse to bother him in his office.

And he doesn’t necessarily mind. There’s a strange, innate pull that tugs in his stomach when it comes to you, causing him to watch you more carefully and seeking out your presence at almost every opportunity. The sheer grip of panic on his heart when you were shot after taking down an unsub by yourself and without backup several months ago had Hotch re-evaluating everything he knew about himself.

He’s aware of the possible repercussions, which is exactly why Hotch has learned to be patient when it comes to you, who has threatened him to forgo his patience altogether with every bubbly laugh he can hear from his office or knock of your shoulders against his in the conference room.

So he doesn’t get up to make you that cup of tea despite knowing how you take it with a splash of milk and two sugars, and instead turns back to finish the action report.

It’s only several minutes later when he notices you rummaging around in your bag out of the corner of his eye before you pull out a small and colorful lotion bottle with a triumphant noise. You pop the cap open and slather some on your hands before you’re turning to face Hotch again, the novel that Reid recommended to you untouched on the table. “Do you want some?”

The bottle in your hand looks somewhat familiar, most likely something he’s passed by at the store or on your desk, but Hotch balks at the pink flowers painted all over the bottle. He’s lucky the undoubtedly suffocating smell hasn’t hit him yet. “I’m fine, thanks.”

But you don’t put the lotion back in your bag, instead shifting in your seat until you’re fully facing him. Your blanket is nearly draped over Hotch’s thigh. “Are you sure? You know, it’s really important to make sure your hands are moisturized, especially with how cold it is here.”

He doesn’t know why you’re so adamant about this, peering up at him with bright and eager eyes and the open lotion bottle poised over his hands. He’s never liked putting on lotion, or any kind of creams, as it always made his hands feel uncomfortably greasy. He would eventually wash it off anyway.

He turns his attention back to his laptop, yet wordlessly puts a hand out towards your direction.

He thinks you’re going to pour a generous dollop and let him rub his own hands together, but instead, he nearly jumps in his seat when you’re grabbing onto his hand with both of yours and slathering whatever’s leftover on your hands into his palms and the back of his hands.

Your hands are cold, even moreso than his, but the sharp tingle that runs up his arm at your touch causes something warm to bloom in his chest.

“I didn’t want to waste it,” you respond to the confusion on his face. You’re thorough; making sure to slather the cream in between his fingers and even down to his wrists. He senses the sneaking glances the rest of the team are throwing his way, maybe even smug, but he’s painstakingly distracted by the way your hands look in his, the way he can feel both of your hands gradually warming up.

And then you’re pulling away, and Hotch suddenly misses your tender touch.

Like he expected, his palms suddenly feel gross, unpleasantly slippery like he has oil all over them. He wants to rub his palms on his pants or go wash his hands, but your watchful eyes stop him.

And then it hits him— the sudden scent of you, floral with some hints of vanilla, overwhelming his senses. It’s undeniably the same scent as your perfume, the one that seems to linger every time you stride past him at the office or when you’re leaning over Hotch to laugh at something Morgan said. Now, it causes him to sharply inhale, chest feeling unnervingly tight as he unconsciously marks it to his memory.

You’re still watching him with an expectant smile, bottle stored away in your bag for you to pull out again after you’ve gotten up to use the restroom and used the cheap hand soap that you’ve repeatedly complained about before. You look unfazed, as if your simple touch hasn’t sent Hotch’s brain reeling.

“It’s nice,” Hotch manages to say, voice only slightly strained. The smell is not as strong as he expected, but it’s still doing strange things to his heart more than he’d like to admit.

If possible, your smile widens. “Just nice?”

“Well, I don’t think it’s quite my signature scent.”

You hum and turn away, picking up your book despite Hotch knowing you’re not going to read a single page of it today, the spine already creased from where you’ve been laying it face down multiple times over the past month. “No, your signature scent already fits you.”

Hotch says nothing, not entirely sure how to respond to that, but your attention is already caught by the game of cards Reid and Emily are playing several seats away. You immediately set your novel down and scramble up and out of your seat to be their enthusiastic audience, leaving a trail of vanilla behind you.

Hotch immediately misses the warmth of your blanket.

three.

“What are you looking for now?”

You’ve been digging through your bag, your pink personal one that’s almost as big as your go bag, for the past five minutes. Hotch can hear the various items clinking around and the crinkling of multiple old receipt papers as you curse under your breath. He frowns, tempted to encourage you to clean out your bag if only to make packing more convenient for you. He couldn’t count the number of times you’ve exclaimed on the jet that you had forgotten something.

The team had gotten called to another small rural town in North Dakota for an unsub that’s been killing during the protective guise of blizzards, which is why Hotch was driving so painstakingly slow that Morgan would’ve surely had an aneurysm if he was in the same car. Despite the roads having already been salted, there was still a concerning amount of ice on the roads that had Hotch sitting ramrod straight in his seat and gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were nearly turning white.

Luckily, it was only you and Hotch in the car, heater on full blast. You’re wearing at least three sweaters today with your coat draped over your legs and haven’t even complained once about it being too cold, citing how you’ve never seen this much snow before in your life. Hotch found it all extremely endearing watching you nearly jump in your seat at how the evergreen trees looked covered in snow. Like a Christmas movie, you had said.

“Found it!” You pull out a travel sized bottle of sunscreen, hurriedly twisting the cap open to squeeze and draw lines down three fingers.

Hotch glances at you out of the corner of his eye, brow furrowed in confusion at your strange method. “Sunscreen? Are we going to the beach?”

“God, I hope not. I didn’t think to pack a swimsuit.” You roll your eyes while slathering the cream on your forehead, cheeks, down your neck, and even strangely over your ears before rubbing the rest on the back of your hands.

Hands tightening on the steering wheel, Hotch clears his throat. “I didn’t expect you to be so invested in your skin health.”

“It’s called skincare, Hotch,” you tease, screwing the cap back on but suspiciously leaving it out on your lap. “And it’s important to take care of your skin. Did you know that snow reflects UV rays, so even during winter you should put on sunscreen?”

Hotch chuckles before he could stop himself. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”

“Did you want some?” You’re twisting your body again to face Hotch, eyes sparkling despite it being horribly dreary and cloudy outside.

The only times Hotch has worn sunscreen was during especially hot summer days when he took Jack to the park or to go swimming. He’s seen you apply sunscreen in the office even when it was raining outside and the sun wasn’t forecasted to come out that day. He’s grown to learn not to ask questions.

“I’m okay, thanks.” The answer’s immediate, partly because he doesn’t need sunscreen and partly because he is concentrating on not crashing into a ditch.

“Come on, Hotch, it’s good for you!” He knows this is exactly the same thing you said on the jet several weeks ago, and since then, every time you’re putting on lotion and he’s somewhere in the near vicinity, you’re already squeezing some on his hands before he could respectfully decline. Luckily, you haven’t tried to apply it for him again.

You’re incredibly stubborn and Hotch wonders if you’re persuading the rest of the team to invest in expensive and fruity-smelling creams in an effort to have everyone properly take care of their bodies like you are with him.

“Alright.” And then he’s pulling his foot off the gas pedal just a bit to compensate for the distraction of having to put his hand out, desperately hoping you’re not going to lean over to apply it to his own face.

You luckily don’t squeal in excitement like he expected, just silently squirting the cream into careful and meticulous lines on his three fingers. Hotch can tell it’s definitely more of an expensive brand than what he was used to during the summer—lightweight and smelling like nothing.

Hotch carefully slathers it onto his face, starting at his forehead, down his nose, and then out to his cheeks and his chin. There’s still quite a lot left on his fingers and he remembers how you made sure to spread some on your neck, so Hotch does the same thing. However, he is definitely not going to put some on his ears.

Satisfied, you put the sunscreen away and twist as best as you could underneath your thick layers to put your bag in the backseat, because the floor of the car was too wet from the snow from your shoes.

“Happy?” Hotch’s face inexplicably feels greasier than he would like, but it’s not as bad as the vanilla-scented lotion or the cheap sunscreen laying forgotten in his closet. It’s already absorbed into his skin and when he rubs a hand along his jaw, he realizes that it must have had some moisturizer in it as well because his face feels softer than he was used to.

“Ecstatic,” you say, turning your face towards the window to hide the wide grin spreading across your face.

four.

The fourth time Hotch learns about skincare from you was completely and utterly by accident.

It had been a long and brutal couple of days chasing a serial in Tennessee, one that had nearly as much technological experience as Garcia. He had been two steps ahead of them until tonight, when they had finally caught a break and caught him before he could take any more women to hold hostage.

The all-consuming relief was palpable during dinner at the hotel restaurant despite the underlying knowledge that the same thing was going to happen next week. Conversation flowed, drinks were had, and Hotch was adamantly ignoring the fleeting looks you were throwing his way across the table.

Hotch and you had been dancing around each other for months, tension so tangible that the rest of the team were starting to feel uncomfortable. He’s been able to brush off Dave’s sly remarks in the privacy of his office, Morgan and Emily’s raised eyebrows tossed in his direction at every interaction he had with you, and Garcia’s elbow jabs at every possible second when you were in the room.

It's been frustrating for him, to say the least. He can’t tell them that he can’t make that choice for you, that he’s too conscious to not cross any of those professional boundaries himself. If that means that Hotch has to wait for several more months for you to make the first move, if that even happens, then so be it.

When Hotch watches the way you throw your head back in laughter at something Dave says at dinner, eyes bright and face slightly flushed from the wine, he thinks he’d be willing to wait as long as you wanted.

After being nearly kicked out of the restaurant from being too rowdy and Hotch hinting at being able to take the rest of tomorrow off once they fly back in town early, the team quietly shuffles back to their respective rooms. He knows there’s about a 50/50 chance that most of them will sneak out to a nearby bar in ten minutes, but at least he warned them ahead of time.

“Night, Hotch,” you had said, giving him a little smile and wave before your door across the hallway clicked shut.

Something warm settled in Hotch’s chest at that, so he did the most reasonable thing to cope with the unfamiliar and turned the TV on to a random news channel. With the volume on low and his laptop and files laid out on the rickety table, he got to work.

Several hours pass like that as he throws himself into the fine print, going over everyone’s action reports from last week and shuffling through old crime photos to make sure everything matched. It was a familiar process, and almost concerning with how much comfort he’s found in it—the scratch of his pen, the drone of the city several floors down, and the growing smudge of ink on his hand from his thoughts running faster than he could write.

When he gets to your report and notices it’s missing several key points of the case, as well as your loopy signature, he frowns.

The immediate thought that comes to mind would be to just put the file aside and move onto the other one. It wasn’t as if the report was due this second and he knows there were plenty of others that required more immediate attention.

The other thought that emerges, almost reluctantly, was that Hotch could easily go across the hallway and ask you to take a look at it and finish the report rather than waiting for the following morning on the jet when the rest of the team was undoubtedly going to be hungover. Prentiss was most certainly going to be cranky and demand everyone to be quiet because the hum of the jet was already grating enough. He’d just be doing the team a favor.

That’s what Hotch tells himself as he stands up from the low desk, neck and back aching, and makes his way out his room and to yours across the hall.

He briefly pauses, straining his ears as if he could hear anything through the door and over the erratic thumping of his own heart. Hotch is suddenly aware that you may be sleeping, or even out with the rest of the ladies to a sleazy bar, and he’s about to turn back around with defeat weighing heavy on his shoulders when he hears the click of the bathroom door open and your humming, faint even through the thick wooden door.

Feeling confident that he’s not disturbing you and something else Hotch can’t name at the fact that he’s going to be seeing you in the privacy of your hotel room, he raps twice against the door.

“Just a second!” And then the door swings open.

Hotch’s attention is immediately caught by the fluffy headband you’re wearing, light pink and with a comically large bow in the center. You’ve clearly just gotten out of the shower, the scent of your body wash infiltrating Hotch’s senses and causing him to tighten his grip on the files he forgot he was holding in the first place.

You’re wearing a matching set of light blue pajamas, short and clinging to your body in a way that has Hotch immediately tearing his gaze away and back to your bare face. Your lips are glossy, slicker than normal, there’s a drop of water slowly trailing down the side of your neck, and a dab of cream on your cheek that you seem to have not noticed.

“Hotch?” you ask, confused, before letting out a squeak and crossing your arms over your chest in an effort to hide your modesty. Hotch ignores the fact that it just makes everything worse. “Is everything okay? Don’t tell me there’s a case.”

The droplet of water has disappeared underneath the collar of your shirt and the scent of vanilla nearly suffocates him. “No case. Just needed to get your final touches and signature on this report.”

He hopes his voice doesn’t sound as strained to you as it does to him as he remembers why he was standing in your hotel doorway in the first place, the files in his hand suddenly weighing like a ton.

You don’t seem to notice anything wrong, if anything, a slow smile spreads across your face that has Hotch’s stomach flipping.

You look radiant, the intimacy of being near you in your pajamas when you were clearly in the middle of your nighttime routine not going unnoticed. He peers over the top of your head to notice your go bag on your bed, clothes and your personal laptop strewn all over the comforter, and the TV being tuned to what you’d call an “entertaining yet trashy show.”

“You’re still working even though you’re the one who suggested having an early night? It’s late.”

Hotch blinks at you because what else would he have done if not attempt to catch up on the seemingly never-ending pile of papers and reports? “You’re still up late too.”

You roll your eyes. “I was just about to go to bed before you knocked, so technically I have better work-life boundaries than you.”

“Do you want me to come back tomorrow?”

You study him—still wearing his suit sans the jacket, tie only slightly loosened and sleeves rolled up his forearms. He hadn’t even bothered to put his shoes back on, comfortable enough with the hotel’s reputation to be in his room and take the two steps across the carpeted hallway in his socks.

“As long as you make it fast.” And then you’re stepping aside and opening the door further, the sweetness of the vanilla nearly pulling Hotch in.

Except he’s somehow distracted by the dollop of cream still on your cheek, right underneath your eye. Witnessing first-hand the twinkling of your eyes as you glance up at him and the way your pink headband has your hair pushed back, baring the most of your face he’s ever seen, has him sidetracked.

“You have a little…” He motions to his own face, hoping that you will take the hint.

And you don’t, not exactly, because of course you don’t. You immediately swipe at your face but on the wrong cheek and stare down at your hand when you don’t catch anything. “What?”

Hotch is a problem-solver, meticulous, and always thinks things through. That’s his job, to always be two steps ahead of anyone and everyone. So he’s not sure how or why he’s suddenly reaching a hand out to swipe at the cream on your face with his thumb, his touch lingering on the warmth of your cheek.

Whatever Hotch was going to say dies in his throat at the very audible hitch of your breath, the way your eyes widen at his close proximity. Your skin is smooth, softer than anything he’s ever felt, and he ignores the way you’re staring into him as he pulls back and absentmindedly rubs the moisturizer in the palm of his other hand. If he tries hard enough, the cream on his own skin nearly replicates the feeling of yours.

He's about to clear his throat to apologize, maybe even mention something about how the report can technically wait until tomorrow and turn right on his heel back into his room to ignore the adamant weight pressing down on his chest, when your expression changes.

Something almost akin to smugness tugs at the corners of your lips, the shininess inexplicably different and more distracting than your usual lipstick. Your bright eyes dance with amusement before your arms fall from where they were crossed on your chest to your sides.

“You know, I’m wearing a lip mask right now if you want some of that too.”

“Excuse me?”

If possible, your grin widens, causing Hotch to internally deny that he was suddenly feeling breathless. “I use a lip mask every night. They just make them look so kissable, right?”

Something in Hotch snaps, because if that wasn’t a clear invitation, he doesn’t know what is.

When he finally steps into your room, closing the door behind him, you’re slowly backing up until you’re pressed up against the nearest wall with that infuriating grin on your face.

You’re playing with him, you’ve been playing with him, but he doesn’t care and can’t even think about that when you’re peering up at him with soft eyes.

When Hotch brings a hand up to cradle your cheek, he thinks his stomach nearly twists itself into a knot at the immediate way you lean into him and the way your eyes flutter shut.

When he finally kisses you, he can smell the sweetness of the raspberry lip mask before he tastes it, seamlessly blending in with your vanilla body wash and making him feel more drunk than he’s felt in a long time.

You place your hands on his chest, your warmth seeping through the fabric of his shirt, and something about touching him has you unconsciously parting your lips to deepen the kiss, causing the smell of raspberry to become stronger.

Hotch can immediately feel the stickiness of your mask on his mouth, and he’s tempted to pull away at the unfamiliarity of something on his lips, but then you’re sighing into him and his hands are suddenly on your waist where the bottom of your pajama top has barely lifted. The warmth of your skin was intoxicating.

You have to be the first one to break the kiss, and when Hotch opens his eyes, you’re staring at him, your smirk having morphed into a smile of disbelief. His eyes flit to the almost imperceptible smear of gloss at the corner of your mouth.

“You have a little…” You trail off, your eyes drifting to his own lips, your smile doing nothing to calm the erratic rhythm Hotch’s heart has taken.

Hotch wonders how much you had put on yourself because the amount that he can feel on his lips makes him immediately want to swipe at his mouth. But that would mean having to take his hands off of you and he doesn’t think he has the willpower for that.

Instead, he rubs his lips together in an effort to spread the tackiness equally over his lips before he says “I like it, but I don’t think I got enough.”

You huff a laugh at that, your fingers tightening from where they’re gripping the lapels of his dress shirt. “I think I can help you with that.”

five.

“Are you okay in there?”

“Just five more minutes, I promise!”

That’s what you had said ten minutes ago. It’s not like Hotch is impatient per se, just content that you had agreed to sleep over again after another late date night and there wasn’t a looming case coming up.

You had only slept over one other time when the team had gotten back from a case late and Hotch wasn’t going to let you drive yourself home when you could barely keep yourself standing. You had dozed off the entire car ride home, head leaning against the window which caused Hotch to adamantly avoid all the potholes and tight turns, and yet you still managed to do your skincare routine in his ensuite bathroom before coming to bed.

After that night in your hotel room, you’ve become bolder. You’re now sitting next to Hotch on the jet, you make your way up to his office when there were still plenty of people milling about in the bullpen, and the way you peer up at him through your eyelashes during case briefings has him itching for a cold shower.

Neither have you said anything to the rest of the team, but at this point, Hotch doesn’t think he has to with the way both Dave and Morgan have patted him on the back the day after you laughed at something Emily had said and leaned against him, leaving his shoulder thrumming from your warmth for the next hour.

Another five minutes pass and Hotch can still hear the clinking of your serums as you rummage through your cosmetics bag. He silently sets aside his phone to get up from his extremely comfortable spot in the bed to pad his way over to the bathroom.

The sight that greets him has Hotch’s stomach plummeting all over again.

You’re sporting that same headband with the pink bow again, however this time, you’re wearing one of his old academy shirts that had mysteriously gone missing from his dresser several weeks ago. You’re freshly showered and you’re holding onto some kind of strangely shaped metallic instrument that you’re scraping over your cheekbones and then down your neck. The way it drags over your skin has Hotch cringing sympathetically.

You immediately spot him, meeting his gaze through the mirror, and the way your eyes immediately light up has a small smile forming on Hotch’s face before he can help it. “Hey you.”

“Hey.” Hotch leans against the doorway, content to watch the clearly practiced movements of you rubbing your skin with this strange contraption. “It’s been over five minutes.”

You pout. “Sorry, I’ve been holding this off all week and I need to do it tonight.”

Hotch was sure that “need” was a strong word, but he doesn’t question it. He stopped questioning your thorough skincare routine months ago.

And then you turn to him, something mischievous tugging at your glossy lips. “Wanna try it?”

Apprehension thuds in his chest, but he takes a step forward into the glow of the bathroom anyway. “And what is it exactly?”

Detecting your hesitation a mile away, you give him a warm smile as you hold it up to him. “It’s called a gua sha. It’s supposed to help with blood flow and getting rid of toxins and all that.”

Hotch may not be a beauty or skincare expert, but he has doubts that this piece of metal can actually do all of those things. To be fair, he’s had quite a few doubts about most of the items you use and not so subtly make him try.

The delight painted clear on your face though has Hotch tucking those thoughts away. He’s sure he has no right to question one’s own method on how to relax.

“Okay.”

You immediately muffle a squeal and turn to grab some other serum you left out on the sink, a light gold swimming around in the bottle.

“I’ll only do half of your face, I promise.” You squeeze some of the mysterious liquid on your hands and reach up to pat the left side of his face.

It’s thicker than your usual products, most likely some kind of oil that smells like roses, but the heat from your hand and your close proximity has Hotch feeling inexplicably warm all over.

“Okay, now you just use this side to run up your cheekbone like this.” You demonstrate for him and he adamantly makes note of the light pressure you’re using. “And then you run it down your face and down your neck.”

When he attempts to copy your movements with the warm metal, he doesn’t notice any difference in how his skin feels or the blood flow in his face, but you’re studying him so closely that Hotch is tempted to say he does.

It’s a strange sensation, but honestly it doesn’t feel any different than if he used his own fingers to rub up against his cheekbone or jawline.

When he puts the piece of metal back in your open palm, you’re nearly teeming with excitement. “So, what do you think?”

He pauses. “I don’t think it’s for me, sweetheart.”

You pout but he can tell that you’re not offended. “Boo. Fine, I’ll meet you in bed, handsome.”

Hotch is about to turn back to go to bed before he remembers the thick oil covering half of his face, evenly dispersed but still uncomfortable and will surely stain his pillowcase. He attempts to discreetly wipe at it with his hand as best as he can before quickly rubbing it off on your arm and escaping.

The screech you let out echoes in his bathroom as you try to swat at him and narrowly miss, and the way he feels heat tinge at the tip of his ears is better than any metallic contraption’s claim to improve blood flow.

On his days off, Hotch much prefers spending as much time as he can at home, either with Jack, you, or, more recently, both. Even if Hotch technically sees you every day in the bullpen, you at work is much different than the you at home.

Or at least, he likes to think there’s a difference as you drag him to the grocery store during what was possibly the quietest afternoon he’s had in several months.

I just have to pick up a couple of things, you had said as you buckle your seatbelt in the passenger side. We’ll be back home in a jiffy.

Never mind the fact that the word home coming from your lips has Hotch’s mind reeling. You’ve been seeing each other for several months now and he’s almost sure that you haven’t stepped foot in your own apartment for at least a month. You’ve taken up half of his dresser, most of his closet space, and the entirety of the counter space in the bathroom with your multi-colored serums and skincare tools that don’t work no matter what you claim.

He follows you around the store, dutifully pushing the grocery cart, as you mentally go through your checklist on all the toiletries you’re almost out of. Which is why he finds himself in the cosmetics aisle when you exclaim “Oh, I forgot about tomatoes for taco Tuesday!” and scamper off before he could say there were plenty of tomatoes from last time in the fridge because Jack has suddenly decided he doesn’t like them anymore.

He's content to wait, maybe check his emails on his phone, when he spots the familiar label of his face wash out of the corner of his eye.

It’s a brand that Haley had recommended for him when they were in college and Hotch knew absolutely nothing about skincare then, so he just continued buying it. He’s gone through countless bottles over the years, having used it nearly every day, yet Hotch finds himself frowning as he stares at the bright orange bottle.

The large bold letters advertise the cleanser being able to effectively combat oiliness, but Hotch distinctly remembers you offhandedly mentioning how lucky he was to have dry skin and not a combination like you.

Honestly, he had no idea, but it would make sense with how you were constantly slathering him in lotions and creams any chance you got.

He browses through the available cleansers, keeping an eye out for those that treat dry skin, when you sidle up next to him with a bag of tomatoes that were undoubtedly not going to get eaten. He can hear the hesitation in your voice when you ask “What are you doing?”

“Looking for something different.”

“Oh yeah? I knew I was wearing you down, Hotchner. Soon, you’re going to be begging me to take you to Sephora.” You’re joking but Hotch can detect the underlying seriousness in your voice.

He continues as if he didn’t hear you. “I’ve been using the wrong face wash for my skin so I’m looking for a different one. I probably haven’t been doing my skin any favors all these years.”

A pause. And then, incredulously, you say “Who taught you that?”

Finding one that was a good size and affordable enough to try, Hotch grabs it and throws it into the cart. When he meets your eyes, you’re staring up at him with a disbelieving smile.

“You did.” And it’s true—Hotch would’ve never thought about the long-term benefits of having a humidifier in the bedroom or the importance of sunscreen everyday if it weren’t for you. Taking care of your appearance was clearly important to you, which meant it was now important to him.

You stare at him, lips parted as if you’re at a loss for words. Your skin is glowing even under the harsh fluorescent grocery store lighting. “You’re such a sweet talker, you know that?”

You toss the tomatoes in the cart, making him wince, and loop your arm through his to tug him along the aisle. You smell sugary sweet with maybe a hint of his cologne from where you had slept in one of his old shirts last night. Hotch remembers how he had felt lightheaded, fondness flooding his chest, when he woke to you laying on his chest this morning. He tugs you closer into his side.

“Does this mean that you’ll try that new light therapy mask that I bought?”

“One step at a time, honey.”

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